Chase from our minds th' infernal foe,
And peace, the fruit of love, bestow;
And, lest our feet should step astray,
Protect and guide us in the way.

Make us eternal truths receive,
And practise all that we believe:
Give us thyself, that we may see
The Father, and the Son by thee.

Immortal honour, endless fame,
Attend th' Almighty Father's name:
The Saviour Son be glorified,
Who for lost man's redemption died:
And equal adoration be,
Eternal Paraclete to thee!



FASHION, leader of a chatt'ring train, Whom man for his own hurt permits to reign, Who shifts and changes all things but his shape, And would degrade her vot'ry to an ape, The fruitful parent of abuse and wrong, Holds a usurp'd dominion o'er his tongue, There sits and prompts him with his own disgrace, Prescribes the theme, the tone, and the grimace, And when accomplish'd in her wayward school, Calls gentleman whom she has made a fool.



BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms, Which gaze on so fondly to-day,

Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Like fairy-gifts, fading away!

Thou would'st still be adored, as this moment thou art,

Let thy loveliness fade as it will,

And, around the dear ruin, each wish of my heart
Would entwine myself verdantly still!

It is not, while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,

That the fervour and faith of a soul can be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear!
Oh! the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,

As the sun-flower turns to her god when he sets,
The same look which she turn'd when he rose.


THAT'S false! a truer, nobler, trustier heart,
More loving, or more loyal, never beat
Within a human breast. I would not change -
My exiled, persecuted, mangled husband,
Oppress'd but not disgraced, crush'd, overwhelm'd,
Alive, or dead, for prince or paladin
In story or in fable, with a world

To back his suit. Dishonour'd!-he dishonour'd!
I tell thee, doge, 't is Venice is dishonour'd.



SHE that would raise a noble love, must find
Ways to beget a passion for the mind;

She must be that which she to the world would


For all true love is grounded on esteem:

Plainness and truth gain more a generous heart,
Than all the crook'd subtleties of art.



THERE are, who to my person pay their court:
I cough like Horace, and, though lean, am short.
Ammon's great son one shoulder had too high,
Such Ovid's nose, and, sir! you have an eye!
Go on, obliging creature, make me see,
All that disgraced my betters, met in me;
Say, for my comfort, languishing in bed,
Just so immortal Maro held his head;
And when I die, be sure you let me know,
Great Homer died three thousand years ago.



LIKE to the falling of a star:
Or as the flights of eagles are;
Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue,
Or silver drops of morning dew;
Or like a wind that chafes the flood,
Or bubbles which on water stood;
Even such is man, whose borrow'd light
Is straight call'd in, and paid to night.
The wind blows out, the bubble dies;
The spring entomb'd in autumn lies;
The dew dries up; the star is shot;
The flight is past; and man forgot.



REFLECT that life and death, affecting sounds,
Are only varied modes of endless being,
Reflect that life, like every other blessing,
Derives its value from its use alone;

Not for itself but for a nobler end

Th' Eternal gave it, and that end is virtue.
When inconsistent with the greater good,
Reason commands to cast the less away;
Thus life, with loss of wealth, is well preserved,
And virtue cheaply saved with loss of life.



OH! thou, whose garment is the light,
Whose throne the vaulted sky,
Who spread the curtains of the night,
And hung the stars on high:

Thou, at whose word Creation rose,
In all its bright array;
Though for our eyes no radiance glows,
No living waters play;

We waft the music of our hearts
In gratitude to thee;

For all the beams thy love imparts
Our minds can clearly see!

We see thee in thy sacred truth,
In inspiration told;

We see thy hand direct our youth,
And lead us weak and old.

We see thee on our mental eye
The light of science pour,
And for such blessings humbly try
To worship and adore.

Oh! Father, hear our feeble hymn-
Behold us while we pray-
And pierce these helpless orbs, so dim,
With thy celestial ray!



IN thee alone, my brightest, fairest, best!

My wandering heart seeks refuge like the dove; Bearing the olive branch of peace and love, To find sweet shelter in its ark of rest; My flight has been wide o'er the angry wave, Nor bower nor tree nor mantling wine was there; But, like rich pearls deep in some ocean cave, Were hidden all things beautiful and fair.

me not forth again! though the blue sky Smile o'er the emerald garniture of Earth, Leaves, buds and roses spring once more to birth, And on the air float songs of melody; Still to its resting-place, that dove would fleeAngel of beauty, shall it dwell with thee?



I REMEMBER thee, Granada!

Cid Ramon spurr'd his good steed fast,
His thousand score were near;
And from Sevilla's walls aghast,

The watchmen fled with fear:
For Afric's Emir lay around,

The town was leaguer'd sore,
And king Mohammed wept with shame
To be a king no more.

I remember thee, Granada!

The Emir's powers were round and nigh,
Like locusts on the sward;

And when Cid Ramon spurr'd his steed,
They struck him fast and hard.

"But," quoth the Cid," a knight am I,
With crucifix and spear;
And for Mohammed ride I on,
And for his daughter dear."-

I remember thee, Granada!

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