Works
Conjectures and Researches concerning the Love, Madness, and Imprisonment of Tasso, (containing translations of poems.)
Petrarch.
Poems, original and translated.
Life of Dante, [unfinished.]
Hesperia.
My Life Is Like the Summer Rose
My life is like the summer rose,
That opens to the morning sky,
And ere the shades of evening close,
Is scattered on the ground to die;
Yet on that rose’s humble bed
The sweetest dews of night are shed
As though she wept such waste to see;
But none shall weep a tear for me!
My life is like the autumn leaf
Which trembles in the moon’s pale ray,
Its hold is frail, its date is brief,
Restless, and soon to pass away;
Yet when that leaf shall fall and fade,
The parent tree will mourn its shade,
The wind bewail the leafless tree;
But none shall breathe a sigh for me!
My life is like the prints which feet
Have left on Tampa’s desert strand,
Soon as the rising tide shall beat
Their trace will vanish from the sand;
Yet still as grieving to efface
All vestige of the human race,
On that lone shore loud moans the sea;
But none, alas! shall mourn for me!