Dearest, I know thee wise and good,
Beloved by all the best;
With fancy like Ithuriel's spear,
A judgment proof 'gainst rage or fear,
Heart firm through many a stormy year,
And conscience calm in rest.

After Thomas Kempis

© George MacDonald

Who follows Jesus shall not walk
In darksome road with danger rife;
But in his heart the Truth will talk,
And on his way will shine the Life.

To a Gentleman and Lady on the Death of the Lady's Brother and Sister, and a Child of the Name Avis, Aged One Year

© Phillis Wheatley

But, Madam, let your grief be laid aside,
And let the fountain of your tears be dry'd,
In vain they flow to wet the dusty plain,
Your sighs are wafted to the skies in vain,
Your pains they witness, but they can no more,
While Death reigns tyrant o'er this mortal shore.

The Owl And The Lark

© Alfred Austin

A grizzled owl at midnight moped
Where thick the ivy glistened;
So I, who long have vainly groped
For wisdom, leaned and listened.

The Chalk-Pit

© Edward Thomas

Is this the road that climbs above and bends

Round what was once a chalk-pit: now it is

Upon Nothing

© John Wilmot

Nothing! thou Elder Brother ev’n to Shade,

That hadst a Being ere the World was made,

Answer To Some Elegant Verses Sent By A Friend To The Author, Complaining That One Of His Descriptio

'But if any old lady, knight, priest or physician
Should condemn me for printing a second edition;
If good Madam Squintum my work should abuse,
May I venture to give her a smack of my muse?'~New Bath Guide.

Everyday Characters V - Portrait Of A Lady

IN THE EXHIBITION OP THE ROYAL

ACADEMY

Pauline, A Fragment of a Question

And I can love nothing-and this dull truth
Has come the last: but sense supplies a love
Encircling me and mingling with my life.

Forward Ho!

Forward ho! Forward ho! Soldiers of liberty,

Hope on; fight on; till mans whole race shall be

For Una

I built her a tower when I was young—
Sometime she will die—
I built it with my hands, I hung
Stones in the sky.

© André Breton

I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!
Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee:
I saw thee every day; and all the while
Thy Form was sleeping on a glassy sea.