His Faithful Dog Salutes The Smiling Guest.

An Original Something, Dear Maid, You Would Wish Me To Write; But How Shall I Begin? For I'm Sure I Have Not Original In Me, Excepting Original Sin.

On Linden, When The Sun Was Low, All Bloodless Lay The Untrodden Snow, And Dark As Winter Was The Flow Of Iser, Rolling Rapidly.

Ye Are Brothers! Ye Are Men! And We Conquer But To Save.

O Leave This Barren Spot To Me! Spare, Woodman, Spare The Beechen Tree.

The Meteor Flag Of England Shall Yet Terrific Burn, Till Danger's Troubled Night Depart, And The Star Of Peace Return.