Joanna Baillie Poems

THERE is a virtue, which to Fortune's height
Follows us not, but in the vale below,
Where dwell the ills of life, disease and woe,
...

IN tremulous vision, falsely near,
The forms of nature as phantoms appear,
With the wonted colours of earth and sky,
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GRECIANS ! ye know what spot,
Decides to-day your lot--
Thermopylæ
Again must see
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DEAR distant land, whose mountains blue
Still bound this wild and watery view, ...
...

GOOD morrow to thy sable beak,
And glossy plumage, dark and sleek,
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THE rising moon look'd clear and mild,
In chasten'd tints of glowing eve,
And bright the early morning smil'd;
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IN a Devonshire lane, as I trotted along,
T'other day, much in want of a subject for song,
Thinks I to myself, I have hit on a strain,--
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A FEAST was spread in the Baron's hall,
And loud was the merry sound,
As minstrels played at lady's call,
And the cup went sparkling round.
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IT was a well
Of whitest marble, white as from the quarry;
And richly wrought with many a high relief,
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ON Gask's deserted ancient hall
Was twilight closing fast,
And, in its dismal shadows, all
...