• Wherefore these revels that my dull eyes greet?
    These dancers, dancing at my fleshless feet;
    The harpers, harping vainly at my ears
    Deaf to the world, lo, thrice a thousand years!

    Time was when even I was blithe: I knew
    The murmur of the flowing wave, where grew
    The lean, lithe rushes; I have heard the moan
    Of Nilus in prophetic...

  • Written When the News Arrived; 1782

    TOLL for the brave,—
      The brave that are no more!
    All sunk beneath the wave,
      Fast by their native shore.

    Eight hundred of the brave,
      Whose courage well was tried,
    Had made the vessel heel,
      And laid her on her side.

    A land-breeze shook the shrouds,
      And she was overset...