SONNET

Lines, written on the sixth of September

Sonnet—­To Faith

Stanzas

Sonnet—­To Hope

Thoughts on Peace

Sonnet—­To Charity

Prologue to Public Readings

Sonnet—­The Beggar

To ——. —­Come, Jenny, let me sip the dew

* The Runaway

* Song—­The Blue-eyed Maid

Bertram and Anna

Invocation to Sleep

Sonnet—­To Music

0!  Nymph with cheeks of roseate hue

On the Death of General Washington

Song—­Oh! never will I leave my love

* Burlesque sonnet—­To a Bee

Mary

Sonnet—­To Lydia, on her Birth-Day

Stanzas, written Impromtu on the late Peace

Sonnet—­To ——­ on her Recovery from Illness

* A Fragment

Lines, to the Memory of a Lady

* The Recall of the Hero

Lines, written on seeing the Children of the Naval Asylum

* Rosa’s Grave

Lines, written in Hornsey Wood

Sonnet—­To ——­

The Complaint

SONNET

* Reflections of a Poet, on being invited to a great Dinner

Sonnet—­On seeing a Young Lady confined in a Madhouse

To Thaddeus

Sonnet—­To a Lyre

Address to Albion

Sonnet—­On the Death of Toussaint L’Ouverture

Epitaph—­On Matilda

Sonnet—­To Peace

* Love

* Sonnet—­In the Manner of the Moderns

* Lines, delivered at a Young Ladies’ Boarding School

On the Death of Sir Ralph Abercrombie

To ——­

Sonnet—­To Melancholy

* Prometheus

To my Readers_ [This section may no longer exist.]

TO THE REVIEWERS.

Oh, ye! enthron’d in presidential awe,
To give the song-smit generation law;
Who wield Apollo’s delegated rod,
And shake Parnassus with your sovereign nod;
A pensive Pilgrim, worn with base turmoils,
Plebian cares, and mercenary toils,
Implores your pity, while with footsteps rude,
He dares within the mountain’s pale intrude;
For, oh! enchantment through its empire dwells,
And rules the spirit with Lethean spells;
By hands unseen aerial harps are hung,
And Spring, like Hebe, ever fair and young,
On her broad bosom rears the laughing loves,
And breathes bland incense through the warbling groves;
Spontaneous, bids unfading blossoms blow. 
And nectar’d streams mellifluously flow. 
There, while the Muses, wanton, unconfin’d,
And wreaths resplendent round their temples bind,
’Tis yours, to strew their steps with votive