Poems (1828) | Page 2

most distinguished Poets of the present day, will, I am
sure, forgive me if I quote his beautiful words in writing to 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 aërial 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