(Written in her thirteenth year.)
Away! unstable, fleeting Pleasure,
Thou troublesome and g0lided treasure;
When the false jewel changes hue,
...
I have told a maiden of hours of grief;
Of a bleeding heart, of a joyless life;
I have read ...
...
Wilt thou rashly unveil the dark volume of fate?.
It is open before thee, repentance is late; ...
...
Islet 1 on the lake's calm bosom,
In thy breast rich treasures lie;
Heroes! there your bones shall moulder,
...
The heather I trod while breathing on earth,
Must bloom o'er my grave in the land of my birth;
...
Palmyra, where art thou, all dreary and lone?
The breath of thy fame, like the night-wind, hath flown;
...
Isle of the ocean, say, whence comest thou?
The smoke thy dark throne, and the blaze round thy brow;
The voice of the earthquake proclaims thee abroad,
And the deep, at thy coming, rolls darkly and loud.
...
(Written in her fifteenth year.)
Shakspeare!' with all thy faults, (and few have more,)
I love thee still,' and still will con thee o'er.
...
How sweet the hour when daylight blends
With the pensive shadows on evening's breast;
And dear to the heart is the pleasure it lends,
...
Strike with joy the wild harp's string,
God, O Israel, is your King!
We have slain our deadliest foe,
David's arm hath laid him low.
...