The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations Preface

Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art;
I warmed both hands before the fire of life;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
‘Dying Speech of an Old Philosopher’ (1853)
Past ruined Ilion Helen lives,
Alcestis rises from the shades;
Verse calls them forth; ’tis verse that gives
Immortal youth to mortal maids.
‘To Ianthe’ (1831)
Ireland never was contented...
Say you so? You are demented.
Ireland was contented when
All could use the sword and pen,
And when Tara rose so high
That her turrets split the sky,
And about her courts were seen
Liveried Angels robed in green,
Wearing, by St Patrick’s bounty,
Emeralds big as half a county.
‘Ireland never was contented’ (1853)
Ah, what avails the sceptred race!
Ah, what the form divine!
‘Rose Aylmer’ (1806)
Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
May weep, but never see,
A night of memories and of sighs
I consecrate to thee.
‘Rose Aylmer’ (1806)
There is delight in singing, tho’ none hear
Beside the singer.
‘To Robert Browning’ (1846)
Thee gentle Spenser fondly led;
But me he mostly sent to bed.
‘To Wordsworth: Those Who Have Laid the Harp Aside’
George the First was always reckoned
Vile, but viler George the Second;
And what mortal ever heard
Any good of George the Third?
When from earth the Fourth descended
God be praised the Georges ended!