XLVIII. ASHES. Under the grate the ashes lie They are the same that shone so bright They may even now some thought suggest, VOL. VIII. XLIX. THE GRATEFUL HEART. The grateful heart for all things blesses; L. DECLINE OF LIFE. How calm, O life, is thy decline! His hot and headstrong course hath run, LI. TO THE CYCLAMEN. Thou Cyclamen of crumpled horn Toss not thy head aside; Repose it where the Loves were born, Whatever flowers, on mountain, field, Or garden, may arise, Thine only that pure odour yield Which never can suffice. Emblem of her I've loved so long, LII. LATE LOVE. Sitting up late, incautious Love takes cold, T LIII. A SENSIBLE GIRL'S REPLY TO MOORE'S "Our couch shall be roses all spangled with dew." It would give me rheumatics, and so it would you. LIV. TO A YOUNG POET. The camel at the city-gate Bends his flat head, and there must wait. And pierced the thorn to give its balm. LV. WISE AND UNWISE. To love and to be loved the wise would give LVI. FIRMNESS. Firmer the tree when winter whirls the leaves; And should not we Be like the tree? Winter is sure, but often spring deceives. LVII. PITY AND COMPASSION. Let pity and compassion be outspread, Without returning to it, soon or late, And driving back the strides of adverse fate. LVIII. LIFE'S ROMANCE. Life's torn Romance we thumb throughout the day: Cast it aside: 'tis better this be done Ere fall between its leaves the dust that none Can blow away. LIX. THE CRIMEAN HEROES. Hail, ye indomitable heroes, hail! LX. OBSERVING A VULGAR NAME ON THE PLINTH OF AN ANCIENT STATUE. Barbarians must we always be? Wild hunters in pursuit of fame? May every God watch over thee! LXI. THE BIBLE. The Bible is the Earth; and we begin LXII. SYMPATHY. When our eyes melt not with another's woes LXIII. TO SOUTHEY. Ah Southey! how we stumble on thro' life LXIV. WHO ARE THE BEST LABOURERS ? You in good blinkers can see nothing shocking, LXV. FRIENDSHIP. There is a flame that flickers over us, LXVI. TO ONE UNEQUALLY MATCHED. Bear it, O matcht unequally, you must, LXVII. FAULTS ACKNOWLEDGED. The soft I own to; then of fun LXVIII. LIFE HURRIES BY. Life hurries by, and who can stay And train the woodbine round the door. LXIX. WHAT SIGHS DO. Each year bears something from us as it flies, We only blow it farther with our sighs. LXX. ON FREEDOM. Let Freedom on thy breast descend, LXXI. WHERE ARE SIGHS? Unless my senses are more dull LXXII. PROMISE. I may not add to youth's brief days, LXXIII. WHAT IS DEPLORABLE. It is deplorable to fear an enemy, LXXIV. WHY NEVER SEEN. You ask me why I'm "never seen." In the deep forest swells the oak. LXXV. CREEDS. A We have outlived low Creeds; the high remains. |