« FöregåendeFortsätt »
1"Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do intreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return." SHAKESPEARE.
2[The lady to whom the lines were addressed, is also commemorated in the verses "To a Vain Lady" and "To Anne." She was the daughter of the Rev. Henry Houson of Southwell, and married the Rev. Luke Jackson. She died on Christmas Day, 1821, and her monument may be seen in Hucknall Torkard Church.]
This word is used by Gray in his poem to the Fatal Sisters:
"Iron-sleet of arrowy shower
Hurtles in the darken'd air."
EQUAL to Jove that youth must be
To him, alike, are always known,
Parch'd to the throat my tongue adheres,
My pulse beats quick, my breath heaves short,
My limbs deny their slight support,
[First printed, December, 1806.]
IMITATION OF TIBULLUS.
SULPICIA AD CERINTHUM LIB. QUART.
CRUEL Cerinthus! does the fell disease Which racks my breast your fickle bosom please?
Alas! I wish'd but to o'ercome the pain,
TRANSLATION FROM CATULLUS.
LUGETE VENERES CUPIDINESQUE
YE cupids, droop each little head,
Whom dearer than her eyes she lov'd:
Tun'd to her ear his grateful strain. Now having pass'd the gloomy bourn, From whence he never can return, His death, and Lesbia's grief I mourn, Who sighs, alas! but sighs in vain.
Oh! curst be thou, devouring grave! Whose jaws eternal victims crave, From whom no earthly power can save,
For thou hast ta'en the bird away: From thee my Lesbia's eyes o'erflow, Her swollen cheeks with weeping glow; Thou art the cause of all her woe, Receptacle of life's decay.
[First printed, December, 1806.]
I hate you, ye cold compositions of art, Though prudes may condemn me, and bigots reprove;
I court the effusions that spring from the heart,
Which throbs, with delight, to the first kiss of love.
Your shepherds, your flocks, those fantastical themes,
Perhaps may amuse, yet they never
Arcadia displays but a region of dreams; What are visions like these, to the first kiss of love?
Oh! cease to affirm that man, since his birth,
From Adam, till now, has with wretchedness strove;
Some portion of Paradise still is on earth,
And Eden revives, in the first kiss of love.
When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past
For years fleet away with the wings of the dove
The dearest remembrance will still be the last,
Our sweetest memorial, the first kiss of love. December 23, 1806.
[First printed, January, 1807.]
"I cannot but remember such things were, And were most dear to me."- Macbeth.
WHEN slow Disease, with all her host of pains,
Chills the warm tide, which flows along the veins;
When Health, affrighted, spreads her rosy wing,
And flies with every changing gale of spring;
Yet less the pang when, through the tedious hour,
Remembrance sheds around her genial power,
Calls back the vanish'd days to rapture given,
When Love was bliss, and Beauty form'd our heaven;
Or, dear to youth, pourtrays each childish scene,
Those fairy bowers, where all in turn have been.
As when, through clouds that pour the summer storm,
The orb of day unveils his distant form, Gilds with faint beams the crystal dews of rain
And dimly twinkles o'er the watery plain;
Thus, while the future dark and cheerless gleams,
The Sun of Memory, glowing through my dreams,
Though sunk the radiance of his former blaze,
To scenes far distant points his paler