Sweet poet of the woods—a long adi… Farewel, soft minstrel of the earl… Ah! ‘twill be long ere thou shalt… And pour thy music on the ’night’s… Whether on spring thy wandering fl…
AGAIN the wood and long-withdraw… In many a tint of tender green are… Where the young leaves, unfolding,… Beneath their early shade, the hal… Of finch or woodlark; and the prim…
AH! why will Mem’ry with officiou… The long lost visions of my days r… Why paint the vernal landscape gre… When life’s gay dawn was opening t… Ah! wherefore bring those moments…
COME, balmy Sleep! tired nature’… On these sad temples all thy poppi… And bid gay dreams, from Morpheus… Float in light vision round my ach… Secure of all thy blessings, parti…
On receiving some elegant lines fr… FOR me the Muse a simple band de… Of 'idle’ flowers that bloom the w… Which, with the cypress and the wi… A garland form’d as artless as my…
FAR on the sands, the low, retiri… In distant murmurs hardly seems to… And o’er the world of waters, blue… The sighing summer wind forgets to… As sinks the day-star in the rosy…
IN this tumultuous sphere, for th… How seldom art thou found—Tranqui… Unless ’tis when with mild and dow… By the low cradles thou delight’st… Of sleeping infants—watching the s…
The dark and pillowy cloud, the sa… Seem o’er the ruins of the year to… And, cold and hollow, the inconsta… Sobs thro’ the falling leaves and… O’er the tall brow of yonder chalk…
The unhappy exile, whom his fates… To the bleak coast of some unfrien… Cold, barren, desart, where no har… But thirst and hunger on the rocks… When, from some promontory’s fearf…
Press’d by the Moon, mute arbitre… While the loud equinox its power c… The sea no more its swelling surge… But o’er the shrinking land sublim… The wild blast, rising from the W…
Supposed to have been written in a… the grave of a young woman of nine… THOU! who sleep’st where hazle-b… The vernal grass, with paler viole… I would, sweet maid! thy humble be…
FAREWELL, Aruna!—on whose vari… My early vows were paid to Nature… When thoughtless joy, and infant h… And whose lorn stream has heard me… Too many sorrows! Sighing I resig…
Written at Penhurst, in Autumn 17… YE towers sublime! deserted now a… Ye woods! deep sighing to the holl… The musing wanderer loves to linge… While History points to all your…
Thee, Queen of Shadows!—shall I… Still love the scenes thy sportive… When on mine eyes the early radian… Which shew’d the beauteous rather… Alas! long since those glowing tin…
NO more my wearied soul attempts… From sad reality and vain regret, Nor courts enchanting fiction to a… Sorrows that sense refuses to forg… For of calamity so long the prey,
WHERE the green leaves exclude t… And softly bend as balmy breezes b… And where, with liquid lapse, the… Across the fretted rock is heard t… Pensive I lay: when she whom Eart…
ON thy grey bark, in witness of m… I carve Miranda’s cypher—Beauteou… Graced with the lovely letters of… Henceforth be sacred to my love an… Though the tall elm, the oak, and…
WYNDHAM! ’tis not thy blood, th… Through a long line of glorious an… Percys and Seymours, Britain’s bo… Who trust the honours of their rac… ’Tis not thy splendid domes, where…
Written on the anniversary of her… ON this blest day may no dark clo… With envious shade the Sun’s brig… But all his rays illume the favour… That saw thee, Mary!—Henry’s love…
GO! cruel tyrant of the human bre… To other hearts thy burning arrows… Go, where fond hope, and fair illu… Ah! why should love inhabit with d… Like the poor maniac I linger her…
OH, Solitude! to thy sequester’d… I come to hide my sorrow and my te… And to thy echoes tell the mournfu… Which scarce I trust to pitying F… Amidst thy wild-woods, and untrodd…
TO thy bright beams I turn my swi… Fair, favourite planet, which in h… Saw my young hopes, ah, faithless… And on my passion shed propitious… Now nightly wandering 'mid the tem…
MAKE there my tomb, beneath the… Where grass and flowers in wild lu… Let no memorial mark where I am l… Or point to common eyes the lover’… But oft at twilight morn, or closi…
On being desired to attempt writin… WOULD’ST thou then have me temp… Of gay Thalia? used so long to tr… The gloomy paths of sorrow’s cypre… And the lorn lay with sighs and te…
Just before his Death. WHY should I wish to hold in thi… ‘A frail and feverish being?’ wher… Poorly from day to day to linger h… Against the powerful hand of Dest…
ON thy wild banks, by frequent to… No glittering fanes, or marble dom… Yet shall the mournful muse thy co… And still to her thy rustic waves… For with the infant Otway, linger…
SIGHING I see yon little troop… By sorrow yet untouch’d; unhurt by… While free and sportive they enjoy… ‘Content and careless of to-morrow… O happy age! when hope’s unclouded…
THOU! whose name too often is pr… Whose charms celestial, few have h… Unknown to Folly—and by Pride dis… —To thy soft solace may my sorrows… Like the fair moon, thy mild and g…
BE the proud Thames of trade the… Arun! to thee will other praise be… Dear to the lover’s and the mourne… And ever sacred to the sons of son… Thy banks romantic hopeless Love…
Written on Farm Wood, South Down… SPRING’S dewy hand on this fair… The downy grass, with tufts of Al… And shades the beechen slopes with… And leads the shepherd to his upla…
