« PreviousContinue »
STANZAS ADDRESSED TO LADY HESKETH,
BY MISS CATHARINE FANSHAWE,
IN RETURNING A POEM OF MR. COWPER'S, LENT TO HER ON
CONDITION SHE SHOULD NEITHER SHOW IT, NOR TAKE A
And in the first degree ;
The press might sleep for me.
Of many a Grecian belle,
But never lodged so well.
SPANISH ADMIRAL COUNT GRAVINA, ON HIS TRANSLATING THE AUTHOR'S SONG ON A ROSE
INTO ITALIAN VERSE.
And steep'd not now in rain,
Will never fade again.
ON FLAXMAN'S PENELOPE.
The suitors sinn'd, but with a fair excuse,
HEYNE'S VIRGIL FROM MR. HAYLEY.
Oct. 1793. I should have deem'd it once an effort vain To sweeten more sweet Maro's matchless strain, But from that error now behold me free, Since I received him as a gift from thee.
AUTUMN OF 1793.
The twentieth year is well nigh past,
Thy silver locks, once auburn bright,
My Mary! For could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me,
My Mary! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign; Yet gently prest, press gently mine,
My Mary! Such feebleness of limbs thou provest, That now at every step thou movest Upheld by two, yet still thou lovest,
My Mary! And still to love, though prest with ill, In wintry age to feel no chill, With me is to be lovely still,
My Mary! But ah ! by constant heed I know, How oft the sadness that I show, Transforms thy smiles to looks of woe,
My Mary! And should my future lot be cast With much resemblance of the past, Thy worn-out heart will break at last,
MARCH 20, 1799. OBSCUREST night involved the sky,
The Atlantic billows roar’d, When such a destined wretch as I,
Wash'd headlong from on board, Of friends, of hope, of all bereft, His floating home for ever left.
No braver chief could Albion boast
Than he, with whom he went, Nor ever ship left Albion's coast
With warmer wishes sent.
Expert to swim, he lay;
Or courage die away;
To check the vessel's course,
That pitiless perforce,
And, such as storms allow,
Delay'd not to bestow.
Their haste himself condemn,
Alone could rescue them;
In ocean, self-upheld;
His destiny repell’d;
His comrades, who before
Had heard his voice in every blast,
Could catch the sound no more :
Of narrative sincere,
Is wet with Anson's tear :
Descanting on his fate,
A more enduring date :
No light propitious shone,
We perish’d, each alone.
A RIDDLE. I am just two and two, I am warm, I am cold, And the parent of numbers that cannot be told. I am lawful, unlawful—a duty, a fault, I am often sold dear, good for nothing when bought; An extraordinary boon, and a matter of course, And yielded with pleasure when taken by force.
ANSWER. FROM THE GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE, VOL. LXXVI. P. 1224.
A RIDDLE by Cowper
Made me swear like a trooper ;