Sonet 42 by William Alexander
Oft with that mirror would I change my shape, From which my Faire askes counsell euery day, How she th’vntainted beauties should array, To th’end their fierce assaults no soule may scape. Then in my bosome I behoou’d t’imbrace That which I loue, and whil’st on me she gaz’d, In her sweet eyes I many […]
Sonet 41 by William Alexander
If that so many braue men leauing Greece, Durst earst aduenter through the raging deepe, And all to get the spoiles of a poore sheepe, That had bene famous for his golden fleece. O then for that pure gold what should be sought, Of which each haire is worth a thousand such! No doubt for […]
Sonet 4 by William Alexander
Once to debate my cause whil’st I drew neere, My staggering toung against me did conspire, And whil’st it should haue charg’d, it did retire, A certaine signe of loue that was sincere: I saw her heauenly vertues shine so cleere, That I was forc’d for to conceale my fire, And with respects euen bridling […]
Sonet 39 by William Alexander
Mvst I attend an vnrelenting will, Which neuer any signe of fauour shew? Ah, why should’st thou Aurora thus pursue An innocent, that neuer did thee ill? I did not with the Greeke conspire to kill Thy sonne, for whom thou shed’st such flouds of dew: But I as one that yet his destine rue, […]
Sonet 38 by William Alexander
My teares might all the parched sands haue drench’d, Though Phaeton had vndone the liquide frame: Ile furnish Vulcans fornace with a flame, That like the Vestals fire was neuer quench’d. And though th’infected aire turmoil’d remaine, It by my sighes and cries may be refin’d: And if the bodie answer to the mind, If […]
Sonet 36 by William Alexander
Loyr, witnesse thou what was my spotlesse part, Whil’st thou amaz’d to see thy Nymphes so faire, As loth to part thence where they did repaire, Still murm’ring did thy plaints t’each stone impart: Then did mine eyes betake them to my hart, As scorning to behold all those, though rare, And gaz’d vpon her […]
Sonet 35 by William Alexander
When I behold that face for which I pin’d, And did my selfe so long in vaine annoy, My toung not able to vnfold my ioy, A wondring silence onely shewes my mind: But when againe thou dost extend thy rigour, And wilt not daigne to grace me with thy sight, Thou kil’st my comfort, […]
Sonet 34 by William Alexander
What vncouth motion makes my mirth decay? Is this the thing poore martyr’d men call Loue? And whil’st their torment doth their wits dismay, As those that raue, do for a god approue? Although he bring his greatnesse from aboue, And rule the world according to his will, Yet doth he euen from those all […]
Sonet 33 by William Alexander
O if thou knew’st how thou thy selfe dost harme, And dost preiudge thy blisse, and spoile my rest: Then thou would’st melt the yce out of thy brest, And thy relenting heart would kindly warme. O if thy pride did not our ioyes controule, What world of louing wonders should’st thou see! For if […]
Sonet 32 by William Alexander
The turret of my hope, which neuer falles, Did at the first all Cupids power despise: But it t’orethrow while as thou arm’d thine eyes; Thy lookes were Canons, thy disdaines their balles: I brau’d thy beauties in a gallant sort, And did resist all thy assaults a time: But ah, I find in end, […]
Jonathan: The First Booke by William Alexander
An heroicke Poeme intended. The Argument With Ammons King, griev’d Iabesh did agree, If not reliev’d, their right eyes lost, to live; From this disgrace Saul fights to make them free, And God to him, the victory doth give, Those, who their King (with successe crown’d) did see; Them who him first had scorn’d, to […]
IX: Some Verses: This Day Design’d To Spoil The World of Peace by William Alexander
This Day, design’d to spoil the World of Peace, And accessary to so foul a Crime, Why should it rest in the Records of Time, Since stain’d by Treason forfeiting the Place. O! but those err who would it odious make: This Day from Danger Britain’s Monarch sav’d, That Day when first the Mischief was […]
IV: Some Verses: To The Author by William Alexander
In Waues of Woe thy Sighes my Soule doe tosse, And doe burst vp the Conduits of my Teares, Whose ranckling Wound no smoothing Baulme long beares, But freshly bleedes when Ought vpbraides my Losse. Then thou so sweetly Sorrow makes to sing, And troubled Passions dost so well accord, That more Delight Thy Anguish […]
III: Some Verses: To M. Michaell Drayton by William Alexander
Now I perceiue PYTHAGORAS diuin’d, When he that mocked Maxim did maintaine, That Spirits once spoyl’d, reuested were againe, Though chang’d in shape, remaining one in Mind; These loue-sicke Princes passionate estates; Who feeling reades, he cannot but allow, That OVIDS soule reuiues in DRAYTON now, Still learn’d in Loue, still rich in rare Conceits, […]
Elegie IV: On The Death of Prince Henrie by William Alexander
If griefe would giue me leaue, to let the world haue part Of that which it [though surfetting] engrosses in my hart: Then I would sow some teares, that so they mo might breed, Not such as eyes vse to distill, but which the hart doth bleed. As from a troubled spring like off-spring must […]
Doomes-Day: The Twelfth Houre by William Alexander
The Argument The height of joy the cleared soules attends; The Earth and Sea suppos’d are new to be; The new Ierusalem from heaven descends, Where still to dwell God doth with men agree; The heavenly blisse, all humane sense transcends, Which Saints attaine when thus from trouble free; The joyes of heaven for blessed […]
Doomes-Day: The Third Houre by William Alexander
The Argument Whilst Angels him convoy, and Saints attend, (The heavens as smoake all fled before his face) Christ through the Clouds with Glory doth descend, With Majestie, and terrour, Power and grace; What flye, walke, grow, swimme, all what may end, doe end. Earth, Aire, and Sea, all purg’d in little space: Strange preparations […]
Doomes-Day: The Tenth Houre by William Alexander
The Argument To this great Court, all come from every land, T’attend the sentence of their joy, or paine, And straight the blessed and the damned band, Are here to part, no more to meet againe; But first the wicked and the divell doe stand, Against Christs justice grudging, to complaine: Till both are straight […]
Doomes-Day: The Sixth Houre by William Alexander
The Argument Some who themselves prophanely did defile, And gave to creatures what to God was due; Some whom with bloud, ambition did beguile, Who honour sought where horrour did ensue, Doe here with Witches meet, and strangely vile, Some Parricides and traitours in a crue, Who wanting all that unto grace belong’d, Most vainely […]
Doomes-Day: The Ninth Houre by William Alexander
The Argument Christs great fore-runner by him pris’d so much, And those who his familiars were below, Th’ Evangelists, Apostles, and all such As did him in the flesh when mortall know: Then those who freely did their faith avouch, And for the truth true constancy did show: The Churches Fathers, and the Martyrs all, […]
Doomes-Day: The Fourth Houre by William Alexander
The Argument A hideous Trumpet horriblie doth sound; Who sleep in Graves a mighty voyce doth wake; By Angels (Messengers) charg’d from each ground, All flesh comes forth that ever soule did take; Seas give account of all whom they have drown’d; The Earth her guests long hid in haste gives backe: Those who then […]
Doomes-Day: The First Houre by William Alexander
The Argument God by his workes demonstratively prov’d; His providence (impugning Atheisme) urg’d; The Divels from heaven, from Eden man remov’d; Of guilty guests the world by water purg’d; Who never sinn’d to dye for sinne behov’d; Those who him scourg’d in Gods great wrath are scourg’d; Some temporall plagues and fearefull judgements past, Are […]
Doomes-Day: The Fifth Houre by William Alexander
The Argument A great Assemblie doth with state begin, And of some soules the processe is surveigh’d, So more to tax the Iews, and Christians sinne, Here in the ballance is before them layd, Each Ethnicks part to be compar’d, brought in In judgement now, their errors to upbraid: Yet all excuses, which such can […]
Doomes-Day: The Eleventh Houre by William Alexander
The Argument Of dolefull hell the horrid seat is sought, Whereas the damned howling still remaine: And in the world as wickedly they wrought, Must suffer what Christ’s justice doth ordaine; The sensuall creatures senses here are brought, By what once pleas’d, now to be rack’d with paine: And with the devils whereas they are […]
Doomes-Day: The Eighth Houre by William Alexander
The Argument The Patriarchs, Kings, and Prophets most renown’d, Who came with God by conference friends to be, And (whil’st his Law was of their lives the ground) By him from wants and dangers were made free, And in all temporall blessings did abound, Yet did but Christ by Types and figures see: O how […]
Doomes-Day: The Second Houre by William Alexander
The Argument That threatned time which must the world appall, Is (that all may amend) by signes fore-showne, Warres rumor’d are, the Gospell preach’d o’re all, Some Iewes convert, the Antichrist growes knowne: Divels rage, vice raignes, zeale cooles, faith failes, stars fall, All sorts of plagues have the last Trumpet blowne: And by prodigious […]
An Eccho by William Alexander
Ah, will no soule giue eare vnto my mone? – one Who answers thus so kindly when I crie? – I What fostred thee that pities my despaire? – aire Thou blabbing guest, what know’st thou of my fall? – all What did I when I first my Faire disclos’d? – los’d Where was my […]
A Short View Of: The State Of Man by William Alexander
Mvst wretched man, when com’d where woes abound, Ere to the Sunne, vnclose his eyes to teares? Whom when scarse borne, one straight to prison beares, Loos’d from the bellie, in the Cradle bound. Then rysing by the rod, he doth attend The misteries of miserie at length, And still his burthens growing with his […]
A Parænesis To Prince Henry by William Alexander
Loe here (brave youth) as zeale and duty move, I labour (though in vaine) to finde some gift, Both worthy of thy place, and of my loue, But whil’st my selfe above my selfe I lift, And would the best of my inventions prove, I stand to study what should be my drift; Yet this […]
Written In A Quarrel by William Cowper
Think, Delia, with what cruel haste Our fleeting pleasures move, Nor heedless in sorrow waste The moments due to love; Be wise, my fair, and gently treat These few that are our friends; Think thus abused, what sad regret Their speedy flight attends! Sure in those eyes I loved so well, And wished so long […]
Written In A Fit Of Illness. R. S. S. by William Cowper
In these sad hours, a prey to ceaseless pain, While feverish pulses leap in every vein, When each faint breath the last short effort seems Of life just parting from my feeble limbs; How wild soe’er my wandering thoughts may be, Still, gentle Delia, still they turn on thee! At length if, slumbering to a […]
Written After Leaving Her At New Burns by William Cowper
How quick the change from joy to woe! How chequered is our lot below! Seldom we view the prospect fair, Dark clouds of sorrow, pain, and care, (Some pleasing intervals between), Scowl over more than half the scene. Last week with Delia, gentle maid, Far hence in happier fields I strayed, While on her dear […]
Watching Unto God In The Night Season by William Cowper
Sleep at last has fled these eyes, Nor do I regret his flight, More alert my spirits rise, And my heart is free and light. Nature silent all around, Not a single witness near; God as soon as sought is found; And the flame of love burns clear. Interruption, all day long, Checks the current […]
Watching Unto God In The Night Season (3) by William Cowper
Night! how I love thy silent shades, My spirits they compose; The bliss of heaven my soul pervades, In spite of all my woes. While sleep instils her poppy dews In every slumbering eye, I watch to meditate and muse, In blest tranquillity. And when I feel a God immense Familiarly impart, With every proof […]
Watching Unto God In The Night Season (2) by William Cowper
Season of my purest pleasure, Sealer of observing eyes! When, in larger, freer measure, I can commune with the skies; While, beneath thy shade extended, Weary man forgets his woes, I, my daily trouble ended, Find, in watching, my repose. Silence all around prevailing, Nature hushed in slumber sweet, No rude noise mine ears assailing, […]
Verses Written At Bath, On Finding The Heel Of A Shoe by William Cowper
Fortune! I thank thee: gentle goddess! thanks! Not that my muse, though bashful, shall deny She would have thank’d thee rather hadst thou cast A treasure in her way; for neither meed Of early breakfast, to dispel the fumes, And bowel-racking pains of emptiness, Nor noontide feast, nor evening’s cool repast, Hopes she from this-presumptuous, […]
Verses Printed By Himself On A Flood At Olney by William Cowper
To watch the storms, and hear the sky Give all our almanacks the lie; To shake with cold, and see the plains In autumn drown’d with wintry rains; ‘Tis thus I spend my moments here, And wish myself a Dutch mynheer; I then should have no need of wit; For lumpish Hollander unfit! Nor should […]
To The Rev. Mr. Newton, On His Return From Ramsgate by William Cowper
That ocean you have late surveyed, Those rocks I too have seen; But I, afflicted and dismayed, You tranquil and serene. You from the flood-controlling steep Saw stretched before your view, With conscious joy, the threatening deep, No longer such to you. To me, the waves that ceaseless broke Upon the dangerous coast, Hoarsely and […]
To The Rev. Mr. Newton : An Invitation Into The Country by William Cowper
The swallows in their torpid state Compose their useless wing, And bees in hives as idly wait The call of early spring. The keenest frost that binds the stream, The wildest wind that blows, Are neither felt nor fear’d by them, Secure of their repose. But man, all feeling and awake, The gloomy scene surveys; […]
To Mary by William Cowper
The twentieth year is well nigh past, Since first our sky was overcast; Ah, would that this might be the last! My Mary! Thy spirits have a fainter flow, I see thee daily weaker grow- ‘Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, […]