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And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen, The maiden herself will steal after it soon. Ill Omens.

But there's nothing half so sweet in life

As love's young dream.

Eyes of unholy blue.

To live with them is far less sweet

Than to remember thee!11

"T is the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone.

When true hearts lie withered

And fond ones are flown,

Oh! who would inhabit

This bleak world alone?

Love's Young Dream.

By that lake.

I saw thy form.

Last Rose of Summer.

Ibid.

And the best of all ways

To lengthen our days

Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!

The Young May Moon.

You may break, you may shatter the vase, if you will,

But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.

Farewell! But whenever you welcome the hour.

Thus, when the lamp that lighted

The traveller at first goes out,

He feels awhile benighted,

And looks around in fear and doubt.

But soon, the prospect clearing,

By cloudless starlight on he treads,

And thinks no lamp so cheering

As that light which heaven sheds. I'd mourn the hopes.

1 In imitation of Shenstone's inscription, "Heu! quanto minus est cum reliquis versari quam tui meminisse."

No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us,
All earth forgot, and all heaven around us.

The light that lies

Come o'er the sea.

The time I've lost.

In woman's eyes.

My only books

Were woman's looks,

And folly 's all they 've taught me.

I know not, I ask not, if guilt 's in that heart,
I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art.

To live and die in scenes like this,
With some we 've left behind us.

Ibid.

Come, rest in this bosom.

As slow our ship.

Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free, First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea.

All that's bright must fade,

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The brightest still the fleetest;

All that's sweet was made

Remember thee.

But to be lost when sweetest! All that's bright must fade.

Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells,

Of youth, and home, and that sweet time
When last I heard their soothing chime!

As half in shade and half in sun

This world along its path advances, May that side the sun's upon

Those evening bells.

Be all that e'er shall meet thy glances!

Peace be around thee.

If I speak to thee in Friendship's name,
Thou think'st I speak too coldly;
If I mention Love's devoted flame,
Thou say'st I speak too boldly.

How shall I woo?

A friendship that like love is warm,
A love like friendship steady.

Oft in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light

Of other days around me;

The smiles, the tears,

Of boyhood's years,

The words of love then spoken;
The eyes that shone

Now dimmed and gone,

The cheerful hearts now broken!

I feel like one

Who treads alone

Some banquet-hall deserted,

Whose lights are fled,
Whose garlands dead,

And all but he departed!

O, call it by some better name,
For Friendship sounds too cold.

How shall I woo?

Oft in the stilly night.

Ibid.

O, call it by some better name.

When twilight dews are falling soft
Upon the rosy sea, love,

I watch the star whose beam so oft
Has lighted me to thee, love.

To sigh, yet feel no pain,

To weep, yet scarce know why;
To sport an hour with Beauty's chain,
Then throw it idly by.

When twilight dews.

The Blue Stocking.

Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
Jehovah has triumphed, his people are free.

Sound the loud timbrel.

This world is all a fleeting show,
For man's illusion given;

The smiles of joy, the tears of woe,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow,
There's nothing true but Heaven!

This world is all a fleeting show.

Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish: Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.

Come, ye disconsolate.

Where bastard Freedom waves

Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.

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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."

Faintly as tolls the evening chime,

Ballad Stanzas.

Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time.

A Canadian Boat Song.

Row, brothers row, the stream runs fast,
The rapids are near, and the daylight 's past.

Ibid.

To Greece we give our shining blades. Evenings in Greece.
Ay, down to the dust with them, slaves as they are!
From this hour let the blood in their dastardly veins,
That shrunk at the first touch of Liberty's war,
Be wasted for tyrants, or stagnant in chains.

On the Entry of the Austrians into Naples, 1821.

1 This song was introduced in Kemble's Lodoiska, Act iii. Sc. 1.

Who has not felt how sadly sweet

The dream of home, the dream of home, Steals o'er the heart, too soon to fleet, When far o'er sea or land we roam?

A Persian's heaven is easily made, "T is but black eyes and lemonade.

The Dream of Home.

Intercepted Letters. Letter vi.

Humility, that low, sweet root,

From which all heavenly virtues shoot.

Loves of the Angels. The Third Angel's Story.

Who ran

Through each mode of the lyre, and was master of all.

On the Death of Sheridan.

Whose wit, in the combat, as gentle as bright,
Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade.

Ibid.

Though an angel should write, still 't is devils must

print.

The Fudges in England.

Weep on; and, as thy sorrows flow,
I'll taste the luxury of woe.

Anacreontic.

Good at a fight, but better at a play,

Godlike in giving, but the devil to pay.

On a Cast of Sheridan's Hand. 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. Like a young eagle, who has lent his plume To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom, See their own feathers plucked, to wing the dart Which rank corruption destines for their heart.1

1 Compare Waller. Page 176.

Corruption.

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