Whose lines are mottoes of the heart, Whose truths electrify the sage. Ye mariners of England! That guard our native seas; Ode to the Memory of Burns. Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, The battle and the breeze! Britannia needs no bulwarks, No towers along the steep; Ye Mariners of England. The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn; Till danger's troubled night depart, There was silence deep as death; The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Ibid. Battle of the Baltic. Few, few, shall part where many meet! 1 When the stormy winds do blow. Hohenlinden. Ibid. Martyn Parker, Ye Gentlemen of England. There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin, To bear is to conquer our fate. The Exile of Erin. On visiting a Scene in Argyleshire. The sentinel stars set their watch in the sky.1 The Soldier's Dream. In life's morning march, when my bosom was young. But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn, Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky A stoic of the woods, Ibid. Ibid. To the Rainbow. a man without a tear. Gertrude of Wyoming. O Love! in such a wilderness as this. Part i. Stanza 23. Part iii. Stanza 1. The torrent's smoothness, ere it dash below! Again to the battle, Achaians! Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance! Our land, the first garden of Liberty's tree, Stanza 5. It has been, and shall yet be, the land of the free. Drink ye to her that each loves best, And if you nurse a flame That 's told but to her mutual breast, 1 The starres, bright centinels of the skies. Song of the Greeks. Drink ye to her. Habington, Castara, Dialogue between Night and Araphil. Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree.1 The Beech Tree's Petition (1802). CLEMENT C. MOORE. 1779-1863. 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; A Visit from St. Nicholas. PRINCESS AMELIA. Unthinking, idle, wild, and young, 1783-1810. I laughed, and danced, and talked, and sung. JAMES KENNEY. 1780-1849. Behold, how brightly breaks the morning, 1 Woodman, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough! Behold how brightly breaks. Morris, Woodman, spare that Tree. JANE TAYLOR. 1783-1824. Far from mortal cares retreating, I thank the goodness and the grace Hymn. A Child's Hymn of Praise. When looks were fond, and words were few. Ibid. Poet's Bridal-Day Song. SIR WALTER SCOTT. 1771-1832. Such is the custom of Branksome Hall. Lay of the Last Minstrel. Canto i. Stanza 7. If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, O fading honours of the dead! I was not always a man of woe. Canto ii. Stanza 1. Stanza 10. Stanza 12. I I cannot tell how the truth may be; Stanza 22. In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, Her blue eyes sought the west afar, Along thy wild and willowed shore. Ne'er Was flattery lost on poet's ear: Call it not vain; - they do not err Canto iii. Stanza 1. Stanza 24. Canto iv. Stanza 1. Stanza 35. Canto v. Stanza 1. |