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All that's bright must fade,—
The brightest still the fleetest ; All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest.
All that's Bright must Fade.
As half in shade and half in sun
This world along its path advances, May that side the sun's upon
Be all that e'er shall meet thy glances.
To sigh, yet feel no pain,
Peace be Around Thee.
To weep, yet scarce know why;
To sport an hour with Beauty's chain,
Then throw it idly by.
The Blue Stocking.
Oft in the stilly night
E'er slumber's chain has bound me,
Fond Memory brings the light
Of other days around me.
The eyes that shone
Now dimmed and gone.
Oft in the Stilly Night.
I feel like one
Who treads alone
Some banquet-hall deserted,
Whose lights are fled,
And all but he departed.
I knew by the smoke that so gracefully curled
Above the green elms that a cottage was near, And I said 'if there's peace to be found in the world, A heart that was humble might hope for it here.'
I give thee all I can no more
Tho' poor the offering be;
My heart and lute are all the store
My Heart and Lute.
This world is all a fleeting show,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow-
The World is all a Fleeting Show.
Come, ye Disconsolate.
Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.
A Persian's Heaven is easily made,
'T is but black eyes and lemonade.
Intercepted Letters. Letter vi. Who ran
Through each mood of the lyre, and was master of all.
On the Death of Sheridan.
Whose wit, in the combat, as gentle as bright,
Weep on, and as thy sorrows flow,
* From KEMBLE'S Lodoiska, Act iii. Sc. 1,
The minds of some of our statesmen, like the pupil of the human eye, contract themselves the more, the stronger light there is shed upon them.
Preface to Corruption and Intolerance.
No hammers fell, no pondrous axes rung ;*
Like some tall palm, the mystic fabric sprung.
Brightest and best of the sons of the morning!
By cool Siloam's shady rill
How sweet the lily grows.
First Sunday after Epiphany. No. ii.
When spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing
Seventh Sunday after Trinity.
Death rides on every passing breeze,
He lurks in every flower.
At a Funeral.
* Altered in later editions to
No workman steel, no ponderous axes rung,
Silently as a dream the fabric rose,
No sound of hammer or of saw was there.
COWPER. The Winter Morning Walk.
Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore
Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb.
At a Funeral. No. ii.
Thus heavenly hope is all serene,
On Heavenly Hope and Earthly Hope.
From Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand,
JONATHAN M. SEWALL. 1748-1808.
O pent up Utica contracts your powers,
Epilogue to Cato.*
JOSEPH STORY. 1779-1845.
ERE shall the Press the People's right maintain,
Unawed by influence and unbribed by gain ;
Here patriot truth her glorious precepts draw,
Pledged to Religion, Liberty, and Law.
Motto of the Salem Register. †
* Written for the Bow Street Theatre, Portsmouth, N. H.
SAMUEL WOODWORTH. 1785-1842.
HE old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well.
LORD BYRON. 1788-1824.
CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE.
MAIDENS, like moths, are ever caught by glare,
And Mammon wins his way where Seraphs
My native land-good night!
Canto i. Stanza 9.
Canto i. Stanza 13.
Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see
What Heaven hath done for this delicious land.
Canto i. Stanza 15.
In hopes to merit Heaven by making earth a Hell.
Canto i. Stanza 20.
By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see
Canto i. Stanza 40.
War, war is still the cry, 'war even to the knife!"
Canto i. Stanza 86.
* ' War even to the knife,' was the reply of Palafox, the governor of Saragossa, when summoned to surrender by the French when they besieged that city in 1808.