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THOMAS HOOD. 1798-1845.

́E watched her breathing through the night,
Her breathing soft and low,

As in her breast the wave of life

Kept heaving to and fro.

Our very hopes belied our fears,
Our fears our hopes belied;

We thought her dying when she slept,

And sleeping when she died.

One more Unfortunate

Weary of breath,

Rashly importunate,
Gone to her death.

Take her up tenderly,
Lift her with care;

Fashioned so slenderly,

The Death-Bed.


The Bridge of Sighs.

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That makes the heart afraid. Ode to Melancholy.

There's not a string attuned to mirth,

But has its chord in Melancholy.

I remember, I remember

The fir-trees dark and high;

I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky ;
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 't is little joy

To know I'm further off from heaven

Than when I was a boy.


I Remember, I Remember.

Seemed washing his hands with invisible soap

In imperceptible water.

Miss Kilmansegg.

* It's no fish ye're buying, it's men's lives.

SCOTT. The Antiquary. Chap. xi.

Gold! Gold! Gold ! Gold !

Bright and yellow, hard and cold.

Her Moral.

Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old

To the very verge of the churchyard mould.

How widely its agencies vary

To save-to ruin-to curse- -to bless

As even its minted coins express,


Now stamped with the image of Good Queen Bess,

And now of a Bloody Mary.

Oh! would I were dead now,

Or up in my bed now,


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I never was on the dull, tame shore,
But I loved the great sea more and more.

The Sea.



SAMUEL ROGERS. 1763-1855.

GUARDIAN-ANGEL o'er his life presiding,
Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing.
Human Life.

The soul of music slumbers in the shell,

Till waked and kindled by the master's spell;

And feeling hearts-touch them but lightly-pour

A thousand melodies unheard before!

Then, never less alone than when alone.*

Human Life.

Those that he loved so long and sees no more, Loved and still loves,—not dead, but gone before, --He gathers round him.

Mine be a cot beside the hill;

A beehive's hum shall soothe my ear;
A willowy brook, that turns a mill,
With many a fall, shall linger near.

That very law which moulds a tear
And bids it trickle from its source,
That law preserves the earth a sphere
And guides the planets in their course.

She was good as she was fair.
None-none on earth above her!
As pure in thought as angels are,
To know her was to love her.+


A Wish.

To a Tear.

Jacqueline. St. 1.

* Numquam se minus otiosum esse, quam quum otiosus, nec minus solum, quam quum solus esset.-CICERO. De Officiis. Lib. iii. cap 1.

To see her is to love her,
And love but her for ever.

BURNS. Bonnie Lesley.

I will, if you please, take you to the house, and introduce you to its worthy master, whom to know is to love.-SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. Salmonia. Eighth Day.

None knew thee but to love thee.

HALLECK. On the Death of Drake.



The good are better made by ill,

As odours crushed are sweeter still.

Jacqueline. St. 3.


BENEATH the rule of men entirely great

The pen is mightier than the sword.

Richelieu. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Take away the sword,

States can be saved without it.

In the lexicon of youth, which fate reserves
For a bright manhood, there is no such word


Act ii. Sc. 2.

WILLIAM MASON. 1725-1797.


'HE fattest hog in Epicurus' sty.

Heroic Epistle.


LOVE took up the harp of Life, and smote on all

its chords with might;

Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling passed in

music out of sight.

Locksley Hall.

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