September 21, 1870 [1]

"Over the camp-fires     Drank I with heroes,     Under the Donau bank,     Warm in the snow trench:     Sagamen heard I there,     Men of the"

"I would have loved:    there are no mates in heaven;     I would be great:    there is no pride in heaven;     I would have sung, as doth the ni"

"He wiled me through the furzy croft;          He wiled me down the sandy lane.     He told his boy's love, soft and oft,          Until I told"

"And should she die, her grave should be Upon the bare top of a sunny hill, Among the moorlands of her own fair land, Amid a ring of old and moss-grown"

"(In Four Books.) With eager search to dart the soul, Curiously vain, from pole to pole, And from the planets' wandering spheres To extort the number o"

"POETS, like lawful monarchs, ruled the stage, Till critics, like damn'd Whigs, debauch'd our age. Mark how they jump: critics would regulate Our theat"