SHORT POEMS. CONTENTS. vi CONTENTS. PAGE Common Peoples Virtues 129 To Mary 135 Primrose Hill 139 The Two Beauties 144 Pouliguen 14 9 Woman 154 To Jane Mary 164 A Survivor 168 The Use of Mishaps 172 The Lowly Obscure 180 An Elegy 191 An Arrest 195 In a Valentine 199 Ferrara 204 Anti-Lucretius 207 InMemoriam 227 The Church 235 Holy Week 239 The Complaint of Nature 249 John Gerald 277 The Meeting of the Ways 282 The Pleasures of Authorship 352 Serene Hours 308. 377 The Osier Bank 380 Kensington Gardens 380 Loves Vexations . 391 Moments of Joy ..,..., 396 The Small House 398 Beauty 402 The Rule of Life 408 CONTENTS. Vll PAGE The Bird hi a Cage . .... 414 Spanish Maidens ... .... 419 Interrogation of the Blessed ...... 422 Nature versus Thought 425 A Midsummer Meeting . .... 428 The Lovers Harhonr of Refuge . . 432 An Authors Reply .... . 439 The Beauty of Life .... - 442 Convalescence ..... . 459 Wind on a Summers Morning . . 469 La Bretcsche 472 The Church of Pouligucn . . 474 The Cure do St. Molph .... . 476 Apology for the Heart .... . 481 POEMS. SUNSET. as the sun went down Through, clouds of radiant gold, I turned from the busy town To think of days of old. How bright, liow calm the roseate air, Transforming mists from clay Oh, how the fancy flies up there To feel eternal day If floating vapours thus can be So gorgeous and so grand, What must it prove for those who see The scene where angels stand What must it prove for those we knew On earth so fond and dear, Translated now to have the view Of all that glory near EPISTLES FEOM PAKIS. Methinks I see them there on high, As art will show the saints, To cheer the fading tear-worn eye Of him whose courage faints. Methinks I see thee, each one bright, Thy leading passion crownd. The heart, the ear, the touch, the sight, Content where all is found. How short is life a dream its joy But what is that to me, If faith its strength and sense employ To lead me there to theo Oh, Christ the earth grows lono and cold Our faults we have to rue Tet, if our fancies may be told, Our hearts for Thee arc true. EPISTLES FROM PARIS. TO M LE COMTE DESGBIOTY, WITTt A SWAJtoOW ON THE COVEB, PBOM PAJftlS. YOTTE letters, DEsgrigny, are always so Idles Ambition at last has inflamed a poor swell To send you some verses whereby ho may be For once at least sure of a high victory. EPISTLES FROM PABIS. 3 nous, just for fun, take kindly whats low Address d to a French ear, it will not sound so Besides, I remember when with us in town, To pick up our prime words youd search up and down The quaintest new phrases you seemd to enjoy, To learn them you listened to any poor hoy. If pedants object to whats homely and sweet, At least you took pleasure in J3Low yowr poor feet Why, Menage to Balzac used often to say, Alone as we are now, I think we both may Commit faults in grammar and speak as the free So precedents grave we can cite, as you see, While not showing aught but gaminerie mere, With freedom and fun as now soon shall appear. Well, so much for preface I cough and begin, Determined the fame of a Horace to win. Then now, all ye gentles, I pray you sit breathless To listen to linos that Im sure will prove deathless For ho who has just slept on Drachenfels height Must prove, Im persuaded, a child of great might To light up your spirits and make you feel jolly, And baniah all dull-eyed and base melancholy. Epistles in verse with high beauties oft shine Those of Shelley, I know, are graver than mine. What would you From Frenchmen the phrase I must borrow A snap for your beauties so pale with their sorrow, Imagined and self-made, with mystical phrase, Which readers like mo only fill with amaze, u 2 4 EPISTLES FBOM PAEIS. But what have I really at this time to say Why, nothing, save wishes for every day That you and all yours may still have the plea sure Which you know so well to dole out with measure...