Lines on Hearing it Declared that No Women Were So Handsome as the English

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1. Lines, On Hearing That Lady Byron Was Ill And thou wert sad-yet I was not with thee! And thou wert sick, and yet I was not near; Methought that joy and health alone could be Where I was not-and pain and sorrow here. And is it thus?-it is as I foretold, And shall be more so; for the mind recoils Upon itself, and […]...
2. TO THE HANDSOME MISTRESS GRACE POTTER As is your name, so is your comely face Touch’d every where with such diffused grace, As that in all that admirable round, There is not one least solecism found; And as that part, so every portion else Keeps line for line with beauty’s parallels....
3. The Handsome Heart at a Gracious Answer ‘But tell me, child, your choice; what shall I buy You?’-‘Father, what you buy me I like best.’ With the sweetest air that said, still plied and pressed, He swung to his first poised purport of reply. What the heart is! which, like carriers let fly- Doff darkness, homing nature knows […]...
4. Lines to Him Who Will Understand Them THOU art no more my bosom’s FRIEND; Here must the sweet delusion end, That charm’d my senses many a year, Thro’ smiling summers, winters drear.­ O, FRIENDSHIP! am I doom’d to find Thou art a phantom of the mind? A glitt’ring shade, an empty name, An air-born vision’s vap’rish flame? And yet, the dear DECEIT […]...
5. At A Vacation Exercise In The Colledge, Part Latin, Part English. The Latin Speeches Ended, The English Thus Began Hail native Language, that by sinews weak Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak, And mad’st imperfect words with childish tripps, Half unpronounc’t, slide through my infant-lipps, Driving dum silence from the portal dore, Where he had mutely sate two years before: Here I salute thee and thy pardon ask, That now I use […]...
6. Mock Panegyric on a Young Friend In measured verse I’ll now rehearse The charms of lovely Anna: And, first, her mind is unconfined Like any vast savannah. Ontario’s lake may fitly speak Her fancy’s ample bound: Its circuit may, on strict survey Five hundred miles be found. Her wit descends on foes and friends Like famed Niagara’s fall; And travellers gaze […]...
7. EPISTLE II: TO A LADY (Of the Characters of Women) NOTHING so true as what you once let fall, “Most Women have no Characters at all.” Matter too soft a lasting mark to bear, And best distinguish’d by black, brown, or fair. How many pictures of one Nymph we view, All how unlike each other, all how true! Arcadia’s Countess, here, in ermin’d pride, Is, […]...
8. Lines to the memory of Richard Boyle, Esq “Fate snatch’d him early to the pitying sky.” – POPE. IF WORTH, too early to the grave consign’d, Can claim the pitying tear, or touch the mind? If manly sentiments unstain’d by art, Could waken FRIENDSHIP, or delight the heart? Ill-fated youth! to THEE the MUSE shall pay The last sad tribute of a mournful […]...
9. Women And Roses I. I dream of a red-rose tree. And which of its roses three Is the dearest rose to me? II. Round and round, like a dance of snow In a dazzling drift, as its guardians, go Floating the women faded for ages, Sculptured in stone, on the poet’s pages. Then follow women fresh and gay, […]...
10. None is spared your handsome smile The mystery of a smile that glows within your eyes And is framed in an innocent countenance Passes not unheeded. Those transient’s hallway smiles and greetings offered through your door Are slyly seeking kisses you unwittingly bestow Each time you purse your lips And say hello. There is a bounty of pleasure in your pretty […]...
11. It Was an English Ladye Bright It was an English ladye bright, (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) And she would marry a Scottish knight, For Love will still be lord of all. Blithely they saw the rising sun When he shone fair on Carlisle wall; But they were sad ere day was done, Though Love was still the lord […]...
12. Ode to Beauty EXULTING BEAUTY,­phantom of an hour, Whose magic spells enchain the heart, Ah! what avails thy fascinating pow’r, Thy thrilling smile, thy witching art? Thy lip, where balmy nectar glows; Thy cheek, where round the damask rose A thousand nameless Graces move, Thy mildly speaking azure eyes, Thy golden hair, where cunning Love In many a […]...
13. Lines inscribed to P. de Loutherbourg, Esq. R. A WHERE on the bosom of the foamy RHINE, In curling waves the rapid waters shine; Where tow’ring cliffs in awful grandeur rise, And midst the blue expanse embrace the skies; The wond’ring eye beholds yon craggy height, Ting’d with the glow of Evening’s fading light: Where the fierce cataract swelling o’er its bound, Bursts from […]...
14. 1. Song-Handsome Nell O ONCE I lov’d a bonie lass, Ay, and I love her still; And whilst that virtue warms my breast, I’ll love my handsome Nell. As bonie lasses I hae seen, And mony full as braw; But, for a modest gracefu’ mein, The like I never saw. A bonie lass, I will confess, Is pleasant […]...
15. To Mary, On Receiving Her Picture This faint resemblance of thy charms, (Though strong as mortal art could give,) My constant heart of fear disarms, Revives my hopes, and bids me live. Here, I can trace the locks of gold Which round thy snowy forehead wave; The cheeks which sprung from Beauty’s mould, The lips, which made me Beauty’s slave. Here […]...
16. After Hearing a Waltz by Bartok But why did I kill him? Why? Why? In the small, gilded room, near the stair? My ears rack and throb with his cry, And his eyes goggle under his hair, As my fingers sink into the fair White skin of his throat. It was I! I killed him! My God! Don’t you hear? I […]...
17. 199. Song-My Peggy's Charms MY Peggy’s face, my Peggy’s form, The frost of hermit Age might warm; My Peggy’s worth, my Peggy’s mind, Might charm the first of human kind. I love my Peggy’s angel air, Her face so truly heavenly fair, Her native grace, so void of art, But I adore my Peggy’s heart. The lily’s hue, the […]...
18. An English Wood This valley wood is pledged To the set shape of things, And reasonably hedged: Here are no harpies fledged, No rocs may clap their wings, Nor gryphons wave their stings. Here, poised in quietude, Calm elementals brood On the set shape of things: They fend away alarms From this green wood. Here nothing is that […]...
19. Lines Written Beneath An Elm In The Churchyard Of Harrow Spot of my youth! whose hoary branches sigh, Swept by the breeze that fans thy cloudless sky; Where now alone I muse, who oft have trod, With those I loved, thy soft and verdant sod; With those who, scattered far, perchance deplore, Like me, the happy scenes they knew before: Oh! as I trace again […]...
20. 386. The Rights of Women-Spoken by Miss Fontenelle WHILE Europe’s eye is fix’d on mighty things, The fate of Empires and the fall of Kings; While quacks of State must each produce his plan, And even children lisp the Rights of Man; Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention, The Rights of Woman merit some attention. First, in the Sexes’ intermix’d connection, […]...
21. DECLARATION OF WAR OH, would I resembled The country girls fair, Who rosy-red ribbons And yellow hats wear! To believe I was pretty I thought was allow’d; In the town I believed it When by the youth vow’d. Now that Spring hath return’d, All my joys disappear; The girls of the country Have lured him from here. To […]...
22. To Simplicity [Inscribed to Lady Duncannon.] SWEET blushing Nymph, who loves to dwell In the dark forest’s silent gloom; Who smiles within the Hermit’s cell, And sighs upon the rustic’s tomb; Who, pitying, sees the busy throng, The slaves of fashion’s giddy sway; Who in a wild and artless song, Warbles the feath’ry hours away. Oft have […]...
23. Sonnet VIII: Why, Through Each Aching Vein Why, through each aching vein, with lazy pace Thus steals the languid fountain of my heart, While, from its source, each wild convulsive start Tears the scorch’d roses from my burning face? In vain, O Lesbian Vales! your charms I trace; Vain is the poet’s theme, the sculptor’s art; No more the Lyre its magic […]...
24. The Trumpeter, an Old English Tale It was in the days of a gay British King (In the old fashion’d custom of merry-making) The Palace of Woodstock with revels did ring, While they sang and carous’d one and all: For the monarch a plentiful treasury had, And his Courtiers were pleas’d, and no visage was sad, And the knavish and foolish […]...
25. Lines from Endymion A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loviliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth, […]...
26. Stanzas Inscribed to Lady William Russell NATURE, to prove her heav’n-taught pow’r, That gems the earth, and paints the flow’r; That bids the soft enchanting note Steal from the LINNET’S downy throat; That from young MAY’S ambrosial wings, The balmy dew of HYBLA flings; With partial hand, each charm combin’d, To deck THY Form, and grace THY Mind. She gave her […]...
27. Women Women have no wilderness in them, They are provident instead, Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts To eat dusty bread. They do not see cattle cropping red winter grass, They do not hear Snow water going down under culverts Shallow and clear. They wait, when they should turn to journeys, They stiffen, […]...
28. 343. Address to the shade of Thomson WHILE virgin Spring by Eden’s flood, Unfolds her tender mantle green, Or pranks the sod in frolic mood, Or tunes Eolian strains between. While Summer, with a matron grace, Retreats to Dryburgh’s cooling shade, Yet oft, delighted, stops to trace The progress of the spiky blade. While Autumn, benefactor kind, By Tweed erects his aged […]...
29. Sonnet XLIV: Here Droops the Muse Here droops the muse! while from her glowing mind, Celestial Sympathy, with humid eye, Bids the light Sylph capricious Fancy fly, Time’s restless wings with transient flowr’s to bind! For now, with folded arms and head inclin’d, Reflection pours the deep and frequent sigh, O’er the dark scroll of human destiny, Where gaudy buds and […]...
30. Lines On A Young Lady's Photograph Album At last you yielded up the album, which Once open, sent me distracted. All your ages Matt and glossy on the thick black pages! Too much confectionery, too rich: I choke on such nutritious images. My swivel eye hungers from pose to pose In pigtails, clutching a reluctant cat; Or furred yourself, a sweet girl-graduate; […]...
31. Sonnet XI: O! Reason! O! Reason! vaunted Sovreign of the mind! Thou pompous vision with a sounding name! Can’st thou, the soul’s rebellious passions tame! Can’st thou in spells the vagrant fancy bind? Ah, no! capricious as the wav’ring wind, Are sighs of Love that dim thy boasted flame, While Folly’s torch consumes the wreath of fame, And Pleasure’s […]...
32. Amoretti LXXIX: Men Call you Fair Men call you fair, and you do credit it, For that your self ye daily such do see: But the true fair, that is the gentle wit, And vertuous mind, is much more prais’d of me. For all the rest, how ever fair it be, Shall turn to naught and lose that glorious hue: But […]...
33. Lines Written by the Side of a River FLOW soft RIVER, gently stray, Still a silent waving tide O’er thy glitt’ring carpet glide, While I chaunt my ROUNDELAY, As I gather from thy bank, Shelter’d by the poplar dank, King-cups, deck’d in golden pride, Harebells sweet, and daisies pied; While beneath the evening sky, Soft the western breezes fly. Gentle RIVER, should’st thou […]...
34. From The Flats What heartache ne’er a hill! Inexorable, vapid, vague and chill The drear sand-levels drain my spirit low. With one poor word they tell me all they know; Whereat their stupid tongues, to tease my pain, Do drawl it o’er again and o’er again. They hurt my heart with griefs I cannot name: Always the same, […]...
35. My Fancy I painted her a gushing thing, With years about a score; I little thought to find they were A least a dozen more; My fancy gave her eyes of blue, A curly auburn head: I came to find the blue a green, The auburn turned to red. She boxed my ears this morning, They tingled […]...
36. Lines Written In Early Spring I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man. Through […]...
37. The Last Words Of My English Grandmother There were some dirty plates And a glass of milk Beside her on a small table Near the rank, disheveled bed- Wrinkled and nearly blind She lay and snored Rousing with anger in her tones To cry for food, Gimme something to eat- They’re starving me- I’m all right I won’t go To the hospital. […]...
38. The Collision in the English Channel ‘Twas on a Sunday morning, and in the year of 1888, The steamer “Saxmundham,” laden with coal and coke for freight, Was run into amidships by the Norwegian barque “Nor,” And sunk in the English Channel, while the storm fiend did roar. She left Newcastle on Friday, in November, about two o’clock, And proceeded well […]...
39. The Song of the Women How shall she know the worship we would do her? The walls are high, and she is very far. How shall the woman’s message reach unto her Above the tumult of the packed bazaar? Free wind of March, against the lattice blowing, Bear thou our thanks, lest she depart unknowing. Go forth across the fields […]...
40. Lines Unfelt unheard, unseen, I’ve left my little queen, Her languid arms in silver slumber lying: Ah! through their nestling touch, Who – who could tell how much There is for madness – cruel, or complying? Those faery lids how sleek! Those lips how moist! – they speak, In ripest quiet, shadows of sweet sounds: Into […]...