"And should they seem to thee to wear
Of graver thoughts the hue;
With such I know that thou wilt bear,
If feeling own them true.
The brightest, gayest thoughts of mirth,
If thought to mirth be given,
Can only lend a charm to earth;
But graver—lead to Heaven!"
O POESY! thou dear delightful art!
The most ennobling, and the most sublime!
Who, acting rightly thy illustrious part,
Art Virtue's handmaid, censor of stern of crime,
Nature's high-priest, and chronicler of time;
The nurse of feeling: the interpreter
Of purest passion,—who, in manhood's prime,
In age, or infancy, alike canst stir
The heart's most secret thoughts:—thee still I must prefer
To worldly honours. Unto thee I owe
Nor wealth, nor fame; yet hast thou given to me
Some secret joys the world can ill bestow—
Delights, which ope not to its golden key,
And bend not to its sordid pride the knee:
For thou hast nourish'd, in these lonely hours,
That have been spent in intercourse with thee,
Kind feelings, chasten'd passions, mental powers,
And hopes which look through time. These are not worldly dowers.
Lines to a Portrait
The Complaint; or, "Weep with me"
The Consolation; or, Answer to the Complaint
Written on hearing my Father say, "I am as an Autumn tree, and fade away"
To the Moon
On a sleeping Infant
To —— ——
To a dear Friend
To the same
To a Mother on the Loss of her Babe
To H. —, on her persuading a Friend to tell the Initials of his Favourite Lady
To an unknown Poet
Lines to a Friend, accompanying a Butterfly upon a Sprig of "Forget me not" in Water-colours
A Tribute of Gratitude to Mrs. H. More
Written on hearing a Mother and Child conversing
Lines to a Friend, on her imitating that she thought the Writer not fond of Domestic Life
The faded Bud
"Redeeming the Time"
To a departing Spirit
To —— ——
On the Death of a Youth
To a Friend
To Mary, on her Birthday
To the "Catmear," or Flower of an Hour
Written in St. Paul's Cathedral, at the Festival of the Sons of the Clergy
"Forget me not" to a Friend
Youth, Beauty, Love, Hope, and Happiness
Written on seeing the Tomb of a Young Man with a Rose-tree in bloom by its side
"Every heart knoweth its own bitterness"
A Farewell to the closing Year
A Tribute of Affection to the Memory of Miss H. Jerram
An unfinished Tale from Life
The Search for Happiness
To a little Bird
Written on plucking a white Convolvolus from a Hedge in Trinity-Gardens, Cambridge
To the dying Christian
To a young Friend