Then turn, to-night, and freely share whate'er my cell bestows The hermit trimm'd his little fire, and cheer'd his pensive guest. THE CAPTIVITY. Ye hills of Lebanon, with cedars crown'd. Fierce is the tempest rolling along the furrow'd main As panting flies the hunted hind, where brooks refreshing stray O Babylon! how art thon fallen THE HAUNCH OF VENISON THE DOUBLE TRANSFORMATION AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG |