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Of winds and elements on thy head will break,
And in thy agonising ear the shriek, Of spirits howling on their stormy car, Will often ring appalling—I portend.
A dismal night—and on my wakeful bed Thoughts, Traveller, of thee, will fill my head,
And him, who rides where wind and waves contend,
HENRY KIRKE White.
ODE WRITTEN IN THE YEAR MDCCXLVI.
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest,
By Fairy hands their knell is rung,
ODES AND SONNETS.
DESCRIPTION OF SPRING.
The soote season that bud and bloome forth bringes,
EARL OF SURREY.
DEAR Chorister, who from those shadows sends
The bird, as if my questions did her move,
As thus I bend me o'er thy babbling stream
And watch thy current, memory's hand portrays
The faint-formed scenes of the departed days, Like the far forest by the moon's pale beam Dimly descried, yet lovely. I have worn,