Inscription 03 – For A Cavern That Overlooks The River Avon
Enter this cavern Stranger! the ascent Is long and steep and toilsome; here awhile Thou mayest repose thee, from the noontide heat O’ercanopied by this arch’d rock that strikes A grateful coolness: clasping its
To Mary Wollstonecraft
The lilly cheek, the “purple light of love,” The liquid lustre of the melting eye, Mary! of these the Poet sung, for these Did Woman triumph! with no angry frown View this degrading conquest.
Ode Written On The First Of December
Tho’ now no more the musing ear Delights to listen to the breeze That lingers o’er the green wood shade, I love thee Winter! well. Sweet are the harmonies of Spring, Sweet is the
To a Goose
If thou didst feed on western plains of yore Or waddle wide with flat and flabby feet Over some Cambrian mountain’s plashy moor, Or find in farmer’s yard a safe retreat From gipsy thieves
Inscription 06 – For A Monument In The New For
This is the place where William’s kingly power Did from their poor and peaceful homes expel, Unfriended, desolate, and shelterless, The habitants of all the fertile track Far as these wilds extend. He levell’d
On The Death Of A Favourite Old Spaniel
And they have drown’d thee then at last! poor Phillis! The burthen of old age was heavy on thee. And yet thou should’st have lived! what tho’ thine eye Was dim, and watch’d no
Botany Bay Eclogues 03 – Humphrey And William
(Time, Noon.) HUMPHREY: See’st thou not William that the scorching Sun By this time half his daily race has run? The savage thrusts his light canoe to shore And hurries homeward with his fishy
Inchcape Rock
No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, The Ship was still as she could be; Her sails from heaven received no motion, Her keel was steady in the ocean. Without either
Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet III
Oh he is worn with toil! the big drops run Down his dark cheek; hold hold thy merciless hand, Pale tyrant! for beneath thy hard command O’erwearied Nature sinks. The scorching Sun, As pityless
To My Own Minature Picture Taken At Two Years Of Age
And I was once like this! that glowing cheek Was mine, those pleasure-sparkling eyes, that brow Smooth as the level lake, when not a breeze Dies o’er the sleeping surface! twenty years Have wrought
Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet II
Why dost thou beat thy breast and rend thine hair, And to the deaf sea pour thy frantic cries? Before the gale the laden vessel flies; The Heavens all-favoring smile, the breeze is fair;
Inscription 04 – For The Apartment In Chepstow-Castle
For thirty years secluded from mankind, Here Marten linger’d. Often have these walls Echoed his footsteps, as with even tread He paced around his prison: not to him Did Nature’s fair varieties exist; He
Botany Bay Eclogues 05 – Frederic
(Time Night. Scene the woods.) Where shall I turn me? whither shall I bend My weary way? thus worn with toil and faint How thro’ the thorny mazes of this wood Attain my distant
Inscription 08 – For The Cenotaph At Ermenonville
STRANGER! the MAN OF NATURE lies not here: Enshrin’d far distant by his rival’s side His relics rest, there by the giddy throng With blind idolatry alike revered! Wiselier directed have thy pilgrim feet
To Horror
Dark HORROR, hear my call! Stern Genius hear from thy retreat On some old sepulchre’s moss-cankered seat, Beneath the Abbey’s ivied wall That trembles o’er its shade; Where wrapt in midnight gloom, alone, Thou