There is an infant, pillowed sweetly,
Asleep upon its mother's breast;
A cloak is wrapped around it neatly,
And it is smiling in its rest;
A halo seems to hover o'er it,
An emanation of the skies,
And the glad heart of her who bore it
Reads peace around its sleeping eyes.

The emblem of angelic spirits,
Who live beyond the arching blue,
Where every stainless soul inherits
Delight, eternal ages through;
The same pure light around it flowing,
The same soft smile is imaged there,
The same bright, burning heart is glowing,

With manlines who art so well indu'de,
Innobled in your soul with fortitude,
Lively man needs must be; and that's the man
Lively who guide his life in perils can:
In quiet wether, sans tempestuousnes,
A life to guid sets forth no manlines ;
Manlines doth in stormy windes consist.

Fierce when stormes rage then quietly to rest:
In perils to be prest with manlines
Ever to last, and not endure represse,
Lively man , shews he is, he life can guid ,
Duty performing whatsoe're betide;
Enriched with a gracious content

I am by Sea , may you say very well.
Advanced unto honours that excell,
Made admirable to the peoples eye,
Ever who gazing see your dignity;
So as in admiration Hy you stand,

Has grace to be admired in the Land;
And as Hy Sea , in honour, so likewise
Your vertues streams let to Hy Sea arise.

I climb high to look at Luoyang city,
Streets and lanes criss-cross far and wide
I turn my head to view Chang'an,
City turrets bristle zigzag.
Sunrise glints on jewel pins and kohl,
Passing winds ruffle sheer silks
Qi boys stamp their red boots
Zhao girls smooth of kingfisher plume brow

The spring breeze sways dappled trees,
Rich blooms emerald and cinnabar.
Jewelled lutes, ruby stops,
Gold harness, tortoiseshell saddles.
Youth loiters, sleeps at Xiacai,
Pours wine on the way through Shanglan
Relaxed eyebrows pucker again

A flower is looking through the ground,
Blinking at the April weather;
Now a child has seen the flower:
Now they go and play together.

Now it seems the flower will speak,
And will call the child its brother —
But, oh strange forgetfulness!
They don't recognise each other.

Rich (honour'd Sir) I know in wealth you are,
O but my Muse enjoynes another care;
By too much earthly care, (the souls annoy)
Ev'n this sweet care men utterly destroy:
Rich be in graces morall, and divine;
Thus to be Rich , is truer then in coyne,
Vertue may last when all your wealth may fleet:
So be you truer Rich , is Counsell sweet.

Rich thus you are, O but remember yet;
In vaine to run, unlesse the Crown to get:
Chuse to run on the Race you did begin,
Hence to be truer Rich indeed you win
Ev'n then the greatest Monarch, without fin.

The frenzy of a lover who can tell?
The glow and flush of feeling, when the eye
Dilates o'er beauty, and the burning sigh
Heaves deep, and strong, and frequent, from the swell
Of hearts o'erwrought to rapture, — who can give
The colors to the canvas, that portray,
On cheek, and lip, and brow, the changeful play
Of hope, despair, of ecstasy and pain
Too keen for common hearts to feel and live,
The long, long wish to meet those eyes again,
The disappointed hope deferred, till all
Is hung around with doubt's funereal pall,

The dark cloud is over, the storm flies away,
The sun glances out at the closing of day;
The air now is freshened with rain and with dew,
And the turf shows a greener and livelier hue;
Though day is departing, the birds are awake,
And in full burst are merry in forest and brake;
The mist hovers over the fountain and rill,
And curls in light folds on the slope of the hill;
The bright arch of beauty its loveliness throws
O'er the cloud, as the west takes the tint of the rose.

New fragrance is flowing from garden and bower,

The winds of the winter are over,
The flowers and the green leaves return;
The meadow is mantled in clover,
The hillock is scented with fern;
The blue-birds are flitting and singing
Their love-notes in thicket and tree,
But the flowers and the sweet birds are bringing
No spring and no beauty to me.

My hopes have departed for ever,
My vision of true love is o'er,
My heart shall awaken — ah! never,
There 's a spring to my bosom no more;
The roses that crowned me are blighted,
The garland I cherished is dead;

Sure 'tis the greatest honour of a Peere,
(Presuppose that excepted, makes him beare
Ensignes of Honour above other men:)
Nere to the presenc Chamber to be then,
Charily eying of his Soveraign Prince,
Ever beholding him, without offence,
Regarding which, the Peers who vertuously

Chuse above others to walk worthily,
O they enjoy the presenc of that Sunne
Most gloriously, from whence their lustre come.
Presse then into the presenc , and regard
That Majestic, which you doth so reward:
On presenc Conspt , his estimation high;