The fight was o'er; the flashing through the gloom, Which robes the cannon as he wings a tomb, Had ceased; and sulphury vapours upward driven Had left the Earth, and but polluted Heaven:...
These locks, which fondly thus entwine, In firmer chains our hearts confine, Than all th' unmeaning protestations Which swell with nonsense, love orations. Our love is fix'd, I think we've prov'd it;...
Ye Cupids, droop each little head, Nor let your wings with joy be spread, My Lesbia's favourite bird is dead, Whom dearer than her eyes she lov'd: For he was gentle, and so true,...
When I rov'd a young Highlander o'er the dark heath, And climb'd thy steep summit, oh Morven of snow! [1] To gaze on the torrent that thunder'd beneath,...