William Lisle Bowles

"I need not perhaps inform the reader, that I had before written a Canto on the subject of this poem; but I was dissatisfied with the metre, and fe"

"O Lord, in sickness and in health,     To every lot resigned,     Grant me, before all worldly wealth,     A meek and thankful mind!      As"

"Up! for the morning shines with welcome ray,     And to the sunny seabeach let us stray.     What orient hues proclaim the master's hand!     H"

"I thought 'twas a toy of the fancy, a dream         That leads with illusion the senses astray,         And I sighed with delight as we stol"

"Poor Linley! I shall miss thee sadly, now      Thou art not in the world; for few remain      Who loved like thee the high and holy strain"

"Up, up, into the vast extended space,      Thou art ascending in thy majesty,      Beautiful moon, the queen of the pale sky!      But what is"

"I climb the highest cliff; I hear the sound     Of dashing waves; I gaze intent around;     I mark the gray cope, and the hollowness     Of hea"

"PREFACE.[1]     The estimation of a Poem of this nature must depend, first, on its arrangement, plan, and disposition; secondly, on the judgmen"

"Hark to the mower's whistling blade!     How steadily he mows!     The grass is heaped, the daisies fade,     All scattered as he goes."

"Oh! they shall ne'er forget thee, they who knew     Thy soul benevolent, sincere, and true;     The poor thy kindness cheered, thy bounty fed,"

"When the famed Argo now secure had passed     The crushing rocks,[1] and that terrific strait     That guards the wintry Pontic, the tall ship"

"My father's grave, I heard her say,     And marked a stealing tear;     Oh, no! I would not go away,     My father's grave is here!"

"When now cold winter's snows are fled,     And birds sing blithe again,     Look where the gipsy's tent is spread,     In the green village la"

"Stranger, stay, nor wish to climb     The heights of yonder hills sublime;     For there strange shapes and spirits dwell,[1]     That oft the"

"When first the fane, that, white, on Kingswood-Pen,      Arrests, far off, the pausing stranger's ken,      Echoed the hymn of praise, and on t"

"From the vast and desert deeps,     Where the lonely Kraken sleeps,     Where fixed the icy mountains high     Glimmer to the twilight sky;"

"When from my humble bed I rise,     And see the morning sun,     That, glorious in the eastern skies,     Its journey has begun,      I thin"

"Come to these peaceful seats, and think no more     Of cold, of midnight watchings, or the roar     Of Ocean, tossing on his restless bed!"

"Mortal! who, armed with holy fortitude,     The path of good right onward hast pursued;     May HE, to whose eternal throne on high     The suf"

"Oh thou, that prattling on thy pebbled way     Through my paternal vale dost stray,     Working thy shallow passage to the sea!     Oh, stream,"

"Such are thy views, DISCOVERY! The great world     Rolls to thine eye revealed; to thee the Deep     Submits its awful empire; Industry     Awa"

"Peace, oh! peace, be to the shade     Of him who here in earth is laid:     Saints and spirits of the blessed,     Look upon his bed of rest;"

"Clysdale! as thy romantic vales I leave,     And bid farewell to each retiring hill,     Where musing memory seems to linger still,     Tracing"

"If I could bid thee, pleasant shade, farewell     Without a sigh, amidst whose circling bowers     My stripling prime was passed, and happiest h"

"There is but one stage more in life's long way,      O widowed women! Sadly upon your path      Hath evening, bringing change of scenes and fri"

"Poor Robin sits and sings alone     When showers of driving sleet,     By the cold winds of winter blown,     The cottage casement beat."

"The castle clock had tolled midnight:     With mattock and with spade,      And silent, by the torches' light,     His corse in earth we l"

"READING THE STORY OF JOSEPH TO A SICK FATHER.      Brother and sister are a-Maying gone;      By my sick father's bed I watch alone;      Ligh"

"O harmony! thou tenderest nurse of pain,     If that thy note's sweet magic e'er can heal     Griefs which the patient spirit oft may feel,"

"Spirit of unwearied wing,     From the Baltic's frozen main,     From the Russ's bleak domain,     Say, what tidings dost thou bring!     Shou"

"Through the wood's maze our eyes delighted stray,     To mark the rustics on the market-day.     Beneath the branches winds the long white road;"

"Argument.     Assembly of Indian warriors, Caupolican, Ongolmo, Teucapel,     Mountain-chief, Song of the Indian Wizard, White woman and child."

"Though his words might well deceive me,     Though to earth abased I bend,      Christian guide, thou wilt not leave me,     Thus on earth"

"The orient beam illumes the parting oar;     From yonder azure track, emerging white,     The earliest sail slow gains upon the sight,     And"

"So ends Childe Harold his last pilgrimage!     Above the Malian surge he stood, and cried,     Liberty! and the shores, from age to age     Ren"

"Fair Moon, that at the chilly day's decline     Of sharp December through my cottage pane     Dost lovely look, smiling, though in thy wane!"

"As homeward by the evening star     I pass along the plain,     I see the taper's light afar,     Shine through our cottage pane.      My br"

"There is strange music in the stirring wind,     When lowers the autumnal eve, and all alone     To the dark wood's cold covert thou art gone,"

"THE SORROWS OF SWITZERLAND.[188]     PART FIRST.      Why art thou come, man of despair and blood!      To these green vales and streams, o'"

"Mark, where the beetling precipice appears,     The toil of the old fisher, gray with years;     Mark, as to drag the laden net he strains,"

"High on the hill, with moss o'ergrown,         A hermit chapel stood;         It spoke the tale of seasons gone,         And half-revealed"

"PART SECOND.     REFLECTIONS ON THE MORAL AND RELIGIOUS STATE OF PARISHES, PAST AND PRESENT.      A shower, even while we gaze, steals o'er th"

"Why mourns the ingenuous Moralist, whose mind     Science has stored, and Piety refined,     That fading Chivalry displays no more     Her pomp"

"It was a high and holy sight,         When Baldwin[2] and his train,         With cross and crosier gleaming bright,         Came chanting"

"Oh, cast every care to the wind,     And dry, best beloved, the tear!     Secure, that thou ever shalt find,     The friend of thy bosom sincer"

"I trust the happy hour will come,     That shall to peace thy breast restore;     And that we two, beloved friend,     Shall one day meet to pa"

"Pomp of Egypt's elder day,      Shade of the mighty passed away,      Whose giant works still frown sublime      'Mid the twilight shades of T"

"God of the battle, hear our prayer!     By the lifted falchion's glare;     By the uncouth fane sublime,     Marked with many a Runic rhyme;"

"Who does not love the village bells,     Their cheerful peal, and solemn toll!      One of the rustic wedding tells,     And one bespeaks a pa"

"More sweet thy pipe's enchanting melody     Than streams that fall from broken rocks on high.     Say, by the nymphs, that guard the sacred scen"

"With mirth unfeigned the cottage chimney rings,     Though only vocal with four fiddle-strings:     And see, the poor blind fiddler draws his bo"

"When o'er the Atlantic wild, rocked by the blast,     Sad Lusitania's exiled sovereign passed,     Reft of her pomp, from her paternal throne"

"Oh! I should ill thy generous cares requite     Thou who didst first inspire my timid Muse,     Could I one tuneful tear to thee refuse,     No"

"Hark! angel voices from the sky     Proclaim a Saviour's birth;     Glory, they sing, to God on high,     Peace and goodwill on earth!"

"Farewell! a long farewell! O Poverty,     Affection's fondest dream how hast thou reft!     But though, on thy stern brow no trace is left"

"Stranger! mark this lovely scene,     When the evening sets serene,     And starting o'er the silent wood,     The last pale sunshine streaks t"

"My dog and I are both grown old;     On these wild downs we watch all day;     He looks in my face when the wind blows cold,     And thus meth"

"How sweet the tuneful bells' responsive peal!     As when, at opening morn, the fragrant breeze     Breathes on the trembling sense of pale dise"

"Methought I heard a butterfly     Say to a labouring bee,     Thou hast no colours of the sky     On painted wings, like me.      Poor child"

"And art thou he, now "fall'n on evil days,"     And changed indeed! Yet what do this sunk cheek,     These thinner locks, and that calm forehead"