I read the marble-lettered name,
And half in bitterness I said:
“As Dante from Ravenna came,
Our poet came from exile—dead.”
And yet, had it been asked of him
Where he would rather lay his head,
This spot he would have chosen. Dim
The city’s hum drifts o’er his grave,
And green above the hollies wave
Their...
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WHAT is good-nature? Gen'rous Richmond, tell;
He can declare it best, who best can feel.
Is it a foolish weakness in the breast,
As some who know, or have it not, contest?
Or is it rather not the mighty whole,
Full composition of a virtuous soul?
Is it not virtue's self? A flower so fine,...