WILLIAM MASON. A PLAINTIVE Sonnet flow'd from Milton's pen, BEING OF BEINGS! Yes, that silent lay, Which musing Gratitude delights to sing, Still to thy sapphire throne shall Faith convey, And Hope, the cherub of unwearied wing. SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. TO THE AUTHOR OF THE ROBBERS. SCHILLER! that hour I would have wish'd to die, Could I behold thee in thy loftier mood Beneath some vast old tempest-swinging wood! SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. TO THE RIVER OTTER. DEAR native Brook! wild Streamlet of the West! What happy, and what mournful hours, since last But straight with all their tints thy waters rise, Thy crossing plank, thy marge with willows grey, Gleam'd through thy bright transparence! On my way Lone manhood's cares, yet waking fondest sighs: Ah! that once more I were a careless child! CHARLES LAMB. We were two pretty babes, the youngest she, The youngest and the loveliest far, I ween, And Innocence her name. The time has been, We two did love each other's company; Time was we two had wept to have been apart. I left the garb and manners of a child, Defiling with the world my virgin heart, That I may seek thee the wide world around? ANNA SEWARD. FAREWELL, false friend! our scenes of kindness close! To cordial looks, to sunny smiles farewell! To sweet consolings, that can grief expel, For alter'd looks, where truth no longer glows, N |