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Reflections on having left a Place of Retirement. Blest hour! it was a luxury to be!

Hymn in the Vale of Chamouni. Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star In his steep course ?

Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines.

Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts !

Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God.

The Three Graves.
A mother is a mother still,

The holiest thing alive.

The Visit of the Gods.
Never, believe me,
Appear the Immortals,
Never alone.

The Knights Tomb.
The Knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust ;
His soul is with the saints, I trust.

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On Taking Leave of - 1817. To know, to esteem, to love and then to part, Makes

up life's tale to many a feeling heart !

Epitaph on an Infant.
Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade,

Death came with friendly care;
The opening bud to Heaven conveyed,

And bade it blossom there.

Dejection. An Ode.

St. 5.
Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud,

We in ourselves rejoice!
And thence flows all that charms, or ear or sight,

All melodies the echoes of that voice,
All colors a suffusion from that light.

Reproof. Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends ! Hath he not always treasures, always friends, The good great man? Three treasures, love and light, And calm thoughts, regular as infants' breath ; And three firm friends, more sure than day and night, Himself, his maker, and the angel death.

A Christmas Carol. Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn.

Cologne.
The river Rhine, it is well known,
Doth wash your city of Cologne;

But tell me, nymphs ! what power divine
Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine ?

Wallenstein.

Part i. Act ii. Sc. 4. The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason.

The Death of Wallenstein.

Act v. Sc. 1. Clothing the palpable and familiar With golden exhalations of the dawn.

Act v. Sc. 1.

Often do the spirits
Of great events stride on before the events,
And in to-day already walks to-morrow.

To a Lady,

OFFENDED BY A SPORTIVE OBSERVATION THAT WOMEN HAVE NO SOULS

I have heard of reasons manifold
Why love must needs be blind,
But this the best of all I hold
His eyes are in his mind.

What outward form and feature are

He guesseth but in part ;
But what within is good and fair

He seeth with the heart.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

1774-1843.

Thalaba.

How beautiful is night!
A dewy freshness fills the silent air ;
No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain,

Breaks the serene of heaven:
In full-orbed glory, yonder moon divine
Rolls through the dark-blue depths.

Beneath her steady ray

The desert-circle spreads,
Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky.

How beautiful is night!

The Curse of Kehama.

Canto x.
They sin who tell us love can die.
With life all other passions fly,

All others are but vanity.

CHARLES LAMB.

1775-1834.

Old Familiar Faces. I have had playmates, I have had companions, In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days; All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

Detached Thoughts on Books. Books which are no books.

THOMAS CAMPBELL.

1777-1844.

PLEASURES OF HOPE.

Part i. Line 7.

'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.

Line 359.

0 Heaven! he cried, my bleeding country save.

Line 381.
Hope for a season bade the world farewell,
And Freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell !

O'er Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow,
His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below.

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