All that's bright must fade. The brightest still the fleetest; But to be lost when sweetest. Farewell! But whenever you welcome the hour. You may break, you may shatter the vase, if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still. Ballad Stanzas. I knew by the smoke that so gracefully curled The Blue Stocking. To sigh, yet feel no pain, To weep, yet scarce know why; This World is all a Fleeting Show. This world is all a fleeting show, For man's illusion given; The smiles of Joy, the tears of Woe, Oft in the Stilly Night. Oft in the stilly night E'er slumber's chain has bound me, Of other days around me. REGINALD HEBER. 1783-1826. Palestine. No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung; * Christmas Hymn. Brightest and best of the sons of the morning! First Sunday after Epiphany. No. ii. By cool Siloam's shady rill How sweet the lily grows. *Altered in later editions to No workman steel, no ponderous axes rung, No sound of hammer or of saw was there. The Winter Morning Walk, B. V. COWPER Seventh Sunday after Trinity. When spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing Thou art gone to the grave! but we will not deplore thee, Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb. On heavenly hope and earthly hope. Thus heavenly hope is all serene, Missionary Hymn. From Greenland's icy mountains, JONATHAN M. SEWALL. Epilogue to Cato. WRITTEN FOR THE BOW STREET THEATRE, PORTSMOUTH, N. H. 1778. No pent up Utica contracts your powers, SAMUEL WOODWORTH. 1785-1842. The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, LORD BYRON. 1788-1821. CHILDE HAROLD. Canto i. St. 9. Maidens, like moths, are ever caught by glare, spair. Stanza 15. Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see What Heaven hath done for this delicious land. Canto ii. St. 2. A school-boy's tale, the wonder of an hour! Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of power. Stanza 6. The dome of Thought, the palace of the Soul. Stanza 23. Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy? Childe Harold Continued. Stanza 40. By Heaven! it is a goodly sight to see Stanza 73. Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Stanza 76. Hereditary bondsmen! know ye not, Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow? Stanza 88. Where'er we tread, 't is haunted, holy ground. Age shakes Athena's towers, but spares gray Marathon. Canto iii. St. 1. Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart. Stanza 21. There was a sound of revelry by night. Music arose with its voluptuous swell. And all went merry as a marriage-bell. Stanza 28. Battle's magnificently-stern array! Stanza 55. The castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine. |