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Oh could my mind, unfolded in my page,
Enlighten climes and mould a future age;
There as it glowed, with noblest frenzy fraught,
Dispense the treasures of exalted thought;
To Virtue wake the pulses of the heart,
And bid the tear of emulation start!
Oh could it still, thro' each succeeding year,
My life, my manners,

and

my name endear; And, when the poet sleeps in silent dust, Still hold communion with the wise and just ! Yet should this Verse, my leisure's best resource, When through the world it steals its secret course, Revive but once a generous wish supprest, Chase but a sigh, or charm a care to rest; In one good deed a fleeting hour employ, Or flush one faded cheek with honest joy; Blest were my lines, tho' limited their sphere, Tho' short their date, as his who traced them here.

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The Boy of Egremond
Written in a sick Chamber
To...
To a Friend on his Marriage
To the youngest Daughter of Lady * *
The Alps at Day-break
To --
To the Torso
A Wish
To the Gnat.
An Epitaph on a Robin-Redbreast
An Italian Song
To the Butterfly
Written in the Highlands of Scotland .
Inscription in the Crimea
Inscription for a Temple .
Written in 1834
An Inscription
Reflections
Written at Dropmore
Written in July, 1834
Written in Westminster Abbey
The Voyage of Columbus

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