| First Line |
Page |
Verses |
| Conquer'd with soft and pleasing charms (fl) |
9-11 |
5 |
| Lydia, thou lovely maid, whose white (fl) |
11-12 |
7 |
| O bid those golden tresses flow (fl) |
13-14 |
8 |
| No: I swear that I never have yet been inclined (fl) |
14-15 |
4 |
| By Celia's arbor all the night (fl) |
15 |
2 |
| Women tell me every day, The (fl) |
16 |
|
| 'Twas night, and many a circling bowl (fl) |
16-17 |
|
| Cupid once upon a bed (fl) |
17-18 |
|
| As late I sought the spangled bowers (fl) |
18 |
3 |
| One day the Muses twined the hands (fl) |
18-19 |
3 |
| Observe when mother earth is dry (fl) |
19 |
4 |
| Intertwining boughs for thee, The (fl) |
20 |
4 |
| As Venus, late you miss'd your boy (fl) |
21 |
2 |
| To Love should Beauty not submit (fl) |
21 |
|
| Ye shadowy forms! Night's offspring!---ye that breathe (fl) |
22 |
3 |
| Ye sons of France, awake to glory (fl) |
23-24 |
4 |
| Hail, Morning, to thy rising beam (fl) |
24-25 |
6 |
| Alone to the banks of the dark-rolling Danube (fl) |
25-27 |
3 |
| Still must I feel my soul distrest (fl) |
27 |
3 |
| Come under my plaidy, the night's gau'n to fa' (fl) |
28-29 |
11 |
| O Logie of Buchan! O Logie the laird! (fl) |
30 |
4 |
| When twilight's dewy wing reposes (fl) |
31-32 |
|
| 'Twas on a cliff whose rocky base (fl) |
32-33 |
9 |
| Rose had been wash'd, lately wash'd in a shower, The (fl) |
34 |
5 |
| At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still (fl) |
35-36 |
6 |
| O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers! (fl) |
37-38 |
|
| I must sing of the youthful plant of gentlest mein (fl) |
38-39 |
2 |
| I delight to talk of thee! (fl) |
39-40 |
2 |
| Sad is the sleep of erin (fl) |
41 |
3 |
| 'Twas a night clad with moonbeams bespangled with dew (fl) |
42-46 |
8 |
| Remember the glories of Patriots brave (fl) |
47 |
3 |
| Ah! soldiers of Britain! your merciless doings (fl) |
48-50 |
6 |
| As I stray'd o'er a common on Cork's rugged border (fl) |
50-52 |
5 |
| Adieu, my lov'd Harp! for no more shall the vale (fl) |
52 |
3 |
| I have roam'd by their castles, no warriors are there (fl) |
53 |
2 |
| I mark'd the sweet rose of the desert grow wild (fl) |
54-55 |
6 |
| Shall a son of O' Donnel be cheerless and cold (fl) |
55 |
4 |
| Moon dimm'd her beams in a feathering cloud, The (fl) |
56 |
3 |
| Moon throws her shadowy light on the hill, The (fl) |
57 |
3 |
| There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin (fl) |
58-59 |
5 |
| Sweet is the woodbine's fragrent twine (fl) |
59-60 |
4 |
| As I paused o'er the Shannon, whose tide flows in numbers (fl) |
60-61 |
5 |
| There's a dear little plant that grows in our isle (fl) |
62-63 |
4 |
| Oh had I liv'd when Ossian sang (fl) |
63-65 |
5 |
| Last minstrel of Erin! how sweetly thy fingers (fl) |
65 |
4 |
| Harp, that in darkness and silence forsaken, The (fl) |
66-67 |
8 |
| What angel form is that descends (fl) |
68-69 |
10 |
| Sure wont you hear what roaring cheer (fl) |
69-73 |
6 |
| Oh I breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade (fl) |
74 |
2 |
| I talk'd of the woes of the days that were past (fl) |
75 |
6 |
| Hark! those notes that sweetly flow (fl) |
76-77 |
8 |
| Friendless Exile [old] and hoary (fl) |
78-80 |
15 |
| On beds of snow the moon-beam slept (fl) |
80 |
3 |
| Kiss that [she] left on my lip, The (fl) |
80 |
2 |
| My love and I, the other day (fl) |
81 |
5 |
| Come, take the harp---'tis [vain] to muse (fl) |
82 |
6 |
| Alone by the Schuylkill a [wanderer] rov'd (fl) |
83-84 |
8 |
| Turn to me love, the motning rays (fl) |
84-85 |
8 |
| Beam of tranquility smil'd [in] the West (fl) |
86 |
7 |
| Oh think not my spirits are always as light (fl) |
87 |
6 |
| I knew by the smoke that so gracefully curl'd (fl) |
88 |
4 |
| Ah! dark are the halls where our ancesters revel'd (fl) |
88-89 |
2 |
| Days of my youth, are gliding away (fl) |
89 |
4 |
| Sons of Peace spread the white-bosom'd sails to the wind (fl) |
90-97 |
|
| Child of Reason, whence comest thou! (fl) |
97-99 |
|
| On the tent plains of Shinah, truth's mystical clime (fl) |
100-102 |
5 |
| While on history's page stand the heroes enroll'd (fl) |
102-104 |
5 |
| In the luminous moments of passion and soul (fl) |
105-106 |
8 |
| Harp of Ireland, once blushing with wild-woven flowers (fl) |
106-108 |
10 |
| Suppliant departed, while gratitude's tear (fl) |
108 |
2 |
| Trumpet sounds, my country calls, The (fl) |
109-110 |
9 |
| Farewell! farewell, my soldier brave! (fl) |
110-113 |
14 |
| Infuriate Goddess! why amid the clouds (fl) |
113 |
5 |
| When every passion sunk to rest (fl) |
114-115 |
5 |
| "Harry, I cannot think," says Dick (fl) |
115 |
1 |
| I saw a dew drop, cool and clear (fl) |
116 |
3 |
| Dear Chloe, I pray thee, entice me no more (fl) |
117-118 |
7 |
| To crown creation's mighty plan (fl) |
118-119 |
8 |
| I've seen, in twilight's pensive hour (fl) |
120-121 |
5 |
| Petrifying plague there is, A (fl) |
121-122 |
6 |
| Tremendous howls the angry blast! (fl) |
123-124 |
6 |
| Stranger! if by worldly views (fl) |
125 |
|
| Sun had declined, and the shadows of night (fl) |
126-127 |
6 |
| Tread light on the turf which yon dark wood encloses (fl) |
128-130 |
10 |
| Last night, while restless on my bed (fl) |
130-131 |
6 |
| When shall the cloud that hangs over my country (fl) |
131-132 |
7 |
| Hail, Friendship, dear soother of sorrow (fl) |
133 |
6 |
| I love when weary toil is o'er (fl) |
134 |
6 |
| When in the last, faint light of evening (fl) |
135 |
4 |
| Scene was more beautiful far to my eye, The (fl) |
136 |
6 |
| Blushing precursor of phoebus expands (fl) |
137 |
3 |
| How sweet the summer gales of night (fl) |
138-139 |
9 |
| From the isle of the distant ocean (fl) |
139-142 |
11 |
| Oh! who can conceive how acute atr my pains (fl) |
143 |
6 |
| I protest that no more I'll get drunk (fl) |
144 |
5 |
| Tho' late, sadly late, my dear country is rescued (fl) |
145-146 |
4 |
| Loud, loud blows the wind on the moor (fl) |
146-147 |
8 |
| Mary, this truth my lips can tell (fl) |
148-149 |
6 |
| On one parent stalk two white roses were growing (fl) |
149 |
4 |
| Then stop and listen to my parting lay (fl) |
150-151 |
8 |
| Oh! had my fate been join'd with thine (fl) |
151-153 |
11 |
| Does Eliza remember, ere fashion had caught her (fl) |
153-154 |
3 |
| Where the chilling north wind howls (fl) |
155 |
5 |
| Let the Nile cloke his head in the clouds, and defy (fl) |
156-157 |
9 |
| "My Celia's willing chains I wear" (fl) |
157 |
1 |
| While Europe's mad powers o'er creation are ranging (fl) |
158-162 |
10 |
| Come strike the bold anthem, the war-dogs are howling (fl) |
162-163 |
4 |
| To Liberty's enraptured sight (fl) |
164-165 |
4 |
| Ye men of Columbia! hail! hail the great day (fl) |
165-167 |
4 |
| When tyranny's scourge & opprest in' a chill blast (fl) |
167-168 |
4 |
| Strike the symbols aloud, let the shrill trumpet sound [sic] (fl) |
169-170 |
4 |
| Ye sons of Columbia, who taste every blessing (fl) |
171-172 |
6 |
| When the sweet smiling moon rolls her orb thro' the sky (fl) |
173 |
4 |
| Morn was fresh, and pure the gale, The (fl) |
174 |
6 |
| Extended wide the diverse scene (fl) |
175-176 |
7 |
| How sweet on the mountains where heath bells are glowing (fl) |
176 |
4 |
| Mountain was wrapt in a cloud of the ocean, The (fl) |
177 |
4 |
| Sun sets at night, and the stars shun the day, The (fl) |
178 |
4 |
| When the day star has sunk in the wave of the west (fl) |
179 |
4 |
| Mark in yon beam the world's destructive guile! (fl) |
179 |
1 |
| Of their Chloes and Phillises poets may praise (fl) |
180 |
7 |