Poems (1828) | Page 2

me on this subject--for his talents she had the highest admiration, and no one was better able than himself to appreciate the excellence of her character.--"As to condolence, I never condole--what condolence could any one offer for the loss of so estimable a being as has been lost to society in your accomplished wife? I had a very great respect and esteem for her, and it would have highly gratified me to have been able to lighten the least of her trials; but what avails writing or visiting on occasions of such real pain. She lived a most amiable being--and for such there is the highest hope in the Highest World. If I had conceived that her illness was at all serious, I should have gone to gather wisdom from her for my own hour--but now, that all her anxieties are past, I can invent no condolence."]
CONTENTS.
Poems?Mature Reflections?The Grave of Dibdin?A Sketch from Life?On the Portrait of the Son of J.G. Lambton, Esq.?Written in the Album of the Lady of Counsellor D. Pollock?The Heliotrope?Sonnet On seeing a Young Lady I had previously known,
confined in a Madhouse?Prometheus?Rosa's Grave?The Sibyl. A Sketch?Love?On a delightful Drawing in my Album?Stanzas?Shakspeare?Impromptu. To Oriana, on attending with her, as Sponsors,
at a Christening?To my Spaniel Fanny?Widowed Love?Written to the Lady of Dr. George Birkbeck?The Chain-pier, Brighton. A Sketch?Sonnet. Morning.?On the Death of Dr. Abel?Sonnet. Night.?Constancy. To ------?Epistle to a Friend?Here in our Fairy Bowers we Dwell. A Glee?Henry and Eliza?Written on the Death of General Washington?To ------?Monody on the Right Hon. R.B. Sheridan?On the beautiful Portrait of Mrs. Forman, as Pandora?Sonnet. To ------, on her Recovery from Illness?To Margaret Jane H------, on her Birth-day?The Runaway?On Reading the Poem of "Paris."?On the Death of Gen. Sir R. Abercrombie?Retaliation?Lines, written in a Copy of the Poem on the Princess Charlotte Sonnet?To Robert Soothey, Esq. on reading his "Remains of Henry Kirke White" The State Secret. An Impromptu?The Morning Call?Sonnet?On the Rupture of the Thames' Tunnel?Anacreontic. "The Wisest Men are Fools in Wine."?Lines, written in Hornsey Wood?To Mary?Black Eyes and Blue?Epigram. Auri Sacra Fames?Sonnet. To Faith?On a Spirited Portrait, by E. Landaeer, Esq.?Sonnet. To Hope?Lines, written on the Sixth of September?Sonnet. To Charity?Hymn?Reflections of a Poet on going to a great Dinner?Sunday?A Night-Storm?On the Death of Nelson?The Blue-eyed Maid?Taking Orders. A Tale, founded on fact?The Gipsy's Home. A Glee?Sonnet. The Beggar?To ------?Song. "The Recal of the Hero."?To Eliza. Written in her Album?Elegy on the Death of A. Goldsmid, Esq.?Sonnet. On the Death of Mrs. Charlotte Smith?Mister Punch. A Hasty Sketch?Content?Epitaph. On Matilda?To ------. An Impromptu?The Steam-Boat?Sonnet To Lydia, on her Birth-day?To Sarah, while Singing?To Thaddeus?Youth and Age?Sent for the Album of the Rev. G----- C-----?Written under an elegant Drawing of a Dead Canary Bird?Lines suggested by the Death of the Princess Charlotte?The Presumptuous Fly?The Heroes of Waterloo?The Night-blowing Cereus?1827; or, the Poet's Last Poem?To the Reviewers
POEMS.
Tis sweet in boyhood's visionary mood,?When glowing Fancy, innocently gay,?Flings forth, like motes, her bright a?rial brood,?To dance and shine in Hope's prolific ray;?'Tis sweet, unweeting how the flight of years?May darkling roll in trials and in tears,?To dress the future in what garb we list,?And shape the thousand joys that never may exist.?But he, sad wight! of all that feverish train,?Fool'd by those phantoms of the wizard brain,?Most wildly dotes, whom young ambition stings?To trust his weight upon poetic wings;?He, downward looking in his airy ride,?Beholds Elysium bloom on every side;?Unearthly bliss each thrilling nerve attunes,?And thus the dreamer with himself communes.?Yes! Earth shall witness, 'ere my star be set,?That partial nature mark'd me for her pet;?That Phoebus doom'd me, kind indulgent sire!?To mount his car, and set the world on fire.?Fame's steep ascent by easy flights to win,?With a neat pocket volume I'll begin;?And dirge, and sonnet, ode, and epigram,?Shall show mankind how versatile I am.?The buskin'd Muse shall next my pen descry:?The boxes from their inmost rows shall sigh;?The pit shall weep, the galleries deplore?Such moving woes as ne'er were heard before:?Enough--I'll leave them in their soft hysterics,?Mount, in a brighter blaze, and dazzle with Homerics.
Then, while my name runs ringing through Reviews,?And maids, wives, widows, smitten with my Muse,?Assail me with Platonic billet-doux.?From this suburban attic I'll dismount,?With Coutts or Barclays open an account;?Ranged in my mirror, cards, with burnish'd ends,?Shall show the whole nobility my friends;?That happy host with whom I choose to dine,?Shall make set-parties, give his-choicest wine;?And age and infancy shall gape to see?The lucky bard, and whisper "That is he!"
Poor youth! he print--and wakes, to sleep no more--?The world goes on, indifferent, as before;?And the first notice of his metric skill?Comes in the likeness of--his printer's bill;?To pen soft notes no fair enthusiast stirs,?Except his laundress--and who values her's??None but herself: for though the bard may burn?Her note, she still expects one in return.?The luckless maiden, all