The Incurious Bencher by William Somervile
At Jenny Mann’s, where heroes meet, And lay their laurels at her feet, The modern Pallas, at whose shrine They bow, and by whose aid they dine, Col’nel Brocade, among the rest, Was every day a welcome guest. One night, as carelessly he stood, Cheering his reins before the fire, (So every true-Briton should) Like […]
The Hip by William Somervile
TO WILLIAM COLMORE, ESQ . The Day after the great Meteor, in March 1715. This dismal morn, when east winds blow, And every languid pulse beats low, With face most sorrowfully grim, And head oppress’d with wind and whim, Grave as an owl, and just as witty, To thee I twang my doleful ditty, And […]
The Happy Lunatic by William Somervile
TO DR. — — When saints were cheap in good Nol’s reign, As sinners now in Drury-Lane, Wrapp’d up in mysteries profound, A saint perceiv’d his head turn round: Whether the sweet and savoury wind, That should have been discharg’d behind, For want of vent had upward fled, And seiz’d the fortress of his head, […]
The Frog’s Choice by William Somervile
In a wild state of nature long The Frogs at random liv’d, The weak a prey unto the strong, With anarchy oppress’d and griev’d. At length the lawless rout, Taught by their sufferings, grew devout; An embassy to Jove they sent, And begg’d his highness would bestow Some settled form of government, A king to […]
The Dog and the Bear by William Somervile
Towser , of right Hockleian sire, A dog of mettie and of fire, With Ursin grim, an errant Bear, Maintain’d a long and dubious war: Oft Ursin on his back was tost, And Towser many a collop lost; Capricious fortune would declare Now for the Dog, then for the Bear, Thus having tried their courage […]
The Devil Outwitted by William Somervile
A Vicar liv’d on this side Trent, Religious, learn’d, benevolent, Pure was his life in deed, word, thought, A comment on the truths he taught; His parish large, his income small, Yet seldom wanted wherewithal, For against every merry tide Madam would carefully provide. A painful pastor, but his sheep, Alas! within no bounds would […]
The Coquette by William Somervile
When tortured by the cruel fair, And almost mad with wild despair, My fleeting spirits rove, One cordial glance restores her slave, Redeems me from the gaping grave, And soothes my soul to love. Thus in a sea of doubt, I’m tost, Now sunk, now thrown upon the coast: What wretch can long endure Such […]
The Captive Trumpeter by William Somervile
A PARTY of hussars, of late, For prog and plunder scour’d the plains, Some French gens d’ armes surpris’d and beat, And brought their trumpeter in chains. In doleful plight the unhappy bard For quarter begg’d on bended knee, ” Pity, Messieurs! in truth ’tis hard To kill a harmless enemy: These hands, of slaughter […]
The Busy Indolent by William Somervile
JACK Careless was a man of parts, Well skill’d in the politer arts, With judgment read, with humour writ, Among his friends pass’d for a wit, But lov’d his ease more than his meat, And wonder’d knaves could toil and cheat, To’ expose themselves by being great. At no levees the suppliant bow’d, Nor courted […]
The Bowling-Green by William Somervile
Where fair Sabrina’s wandering currents flow, A large smooth plain extends its verdant brow; Here every morn, while fruitful vapours feed The swelling blade, and bless the smoking mead, A cruel tyrant reigns: like Time, the swain Whets his unrighteous scythe, and shaves the plain: Beneath each stroke the peeping flowers decay, And all the’ […]
The Bald-Pated Welshman and the Fly by William Somervile
A SQUIRE of Wales, whose blood ran higher Than that of any other squire Hasty and hot, whose peevish honor Revenged each slight was put upon her, Upon a mountain’s top one day Exposed to Soles meridian ray, He fumed, he raved, he cursed, he swore, Exhaled a sea at every pore; At last, such […]
Song by William Somervile
When o’er Asteria’s fields I rove, The blissful seat of peace and love, Ten thousand beauties round me rise, And mingle pleasure with surprise. By Nature blessed in every part, Adorned with every grace of art, This paradise of blooming joys Each raptured sense at once employs.” But when I view the radiant queen Who […]
On Presenting to a Lady a White Rose and a Red on the Tenth of June by William Somervile
If this pale Rose offend your sight, It in your bosom wear, ‘Twill blush to find itself less white, And turn Lancastrian there: But, Celia, should the red be chose, With gay vermilion bright, ‘Twould sicken at each blush that glows, And in despair turn white. Let politicians idly prate, Their Babels build in vain; […]
On Miranda’s Leaving the Country by William Somervile
The sun departing, hides his head, The lily and the rose are dead, The birds forget to sing; The cooing turtles now no more Repeat their amorous ditties o’er, But watch the approaching Spring. For soon the merry month of May Restores the bright all-cheering ray; Soft notes charm every grove: The flow’rs ambrosial incense […]
Mahomet Ali Beg; Or, the Faithful Minister of State by William Somervile
OR, THE FAITHFUL MINISTER OF STATE . A LONG descent and noble blood Is but a vain fantastic good, Unless with inbred virtues join’d, An honest, brave, and generous mind All that our ancestors have done, Nations reliev’d and battles won, The trophies of each bloody field, Can only then true honour yield, When, like […]
Liberty, and Love; or, the Two Sparrows by William Somervile
A SPARROW and his mate, (Believe me, gentle Kate!) Once lov’d like I and you; With mutual ardour join’d, No turtles e’er so kind, So constant and so true. They hopp’d from spray to spray; They bill’d, they chirp’d all day, They cuddled close all night; To bliss they wak’d each morn, In every bush […]
Hunting Song by William Somervile
Behold , my friend! the rosy-finger’d morn With blushes on her face, Peeps o’er yon azure hill; Rich gems the trees enchase, Pearls from each bush distill; Arise, arise, and hail the light new-born. Hark! hark! the merry horn calls, Come away: Quit, quit thy downy bed; Break from Amynta’s arms; Oh! let it ne’er […]
Hudibras and Milton Reconciled by William Somervile
TO SIR ADOLPHUS OUGHTON . Dear Knight! how great a drudge is he Who would excel in poetry; And yet how few have learn’d the art To’ inform the head or touch the heart! Some with a dry and barren brain, Poor rogues! like costive lapdogs strain; While others with a flux of wit The […]
Hobbinol; or The Rural Games by William Somervile
CANTO I. What old Menalcas at his feast reveal’d, I sing; strange feats of antient prowess, deeds Of high renown, while all his listening guests With eager Joy receiv’d the pleasing tale. O thou who late on Vaga’s flowery banks Slumbering secure, with Stirom well bedew’d, Fallacious cask, in sacred dreams wert taught By ancient […]
Hobbinol; or The Rural Games – Canto 3 by William Somervile
CANTO III. Though some of old, and some of modern date, Penurious, their victorious heroes fed With barren praise alone; yet thou, my Muse! Benevolent with more indulgent eyes Behold the’ immortal Hobbinol; reward With due regalement his triumphant toils. Let Quixote’s hardy courage, and renown, With Sancho’s prudent care be meetly join’d. O thou […]
Hobbinol; or The Rural Games – Canto 2 by William Somervile
CANTO II. Long while an universal hubbub loud, Deafening each ear, had drown’d each accent mild; Till biting taunts, and harsh opprobrious words Vile utterance found. How weak are human minds! How impotent to stem the swelling tide, And without insolence enjoy success! The vale-inhabitants, proud, and elate With victory, know no restraint, but give […]
Hare-hunting by William Somervile
Hark! from yon covert, where those tow’ring oaks Above the humble copse aspiring rise, What glorious triumphs burst in ev’ry gale Upon our ravished ears! The hunters shout, The clanging horns swell their sweet-winding notes, The pack wide-op’ning load the trembling air With various melody; from tree to tree The propagated cry redoubling bounds, And […]
Fortune-Hunter, The – Canto 5 by William Somervile
CANTO V. I F Heav’n the thriving trader bless, What fawning crowds about him press! But if he fail, distress’d and poor, His mob of friends are seen no more; For all men hold it meet to fly The’ infectious breath of Poverty. Poor Frank, deserted and forlorn, Curses the day that he was born: […]
Fortune-Hunter, The – Canto 3 by William Somervile
CANTO III. As there is something in a face, An air, and a peculiar grace, Which boldest painters cannot trace, That more than feature, shape, or hair, Distinguishes the happy fair, Strikes every eye, and makes her known A ruling toast through all the town; So in each action ’tis success That gives it all […]
Fortune-Hunter, The – Canto 1 by William Somervile
IN FIVE CANTOS CANTO I . Some authors, more abstruse than wise, Friendship confine to stricter ties, Require exact conformity In person, age, and quality Their humours, principles, and wit Must, like Exchequer tallies, hit: — Others, less scrupulous, opine, That hands and hearts in love may join, Though different inclinations sway, For Nature’s more […]
For the Lute by William Somervile
Gently , my lute! move every string, Soft as my sighs reveal my pain, While I, in plaintive numbers, sing Of slighted vows and cold disdam. In vain her airs, in vain her art, In vain she frowns, when I appear; Thy notes shall melt her frozen heart She cannot hate if she can hear. […]
First let the kennel be the huntsman’s care by William Somervile
THE KENNEL First let the kennel be the huntsman’s care, Upon some little eminence erect, And fronting to the ruddy dawn; its courts On either hand wide opening to receive The sun’s all-cheering beams, when mild he shines, And gilds the mountain-tops. For much the pack (Roused from their dark alcoves) delight to stretch And […]
Field Sports by William Somervile
TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE. Once more, great Prince! permit an humble bard Prostrate to pay his homage at your feet, Then, like the morning lark from the low ground Towering aloft, sublime, to soar and sing, Sing the heart-cheering pleasure of the fields, The choice delight of heroes and of kings. In earlier […]
Epistle from Mr. Somerville, An by William Somervile
Near fair Avona’s silver tide, Whose waves in soft meanders glide, I read, to the delighted swams, Your jocund songs and rural strains. Smooth as her streams your numbers flow; Your thoughts in varied beauties show, Like flow’rs that on her borders grow. While I survey, with ravish’d eyes, His friendly gift, my valued prize, […]
Chase, The – Book 1 by William Somervile
BOOK I. The Chase I sing, hounds, and their various breed, And no less various use. O thou great Prince! Whom Cambria’s towering hills proclaim their lord, Deign thou to hear my bold, instructive song. While grateful citizens with pompous show Rear the triumphal arch, rich with the’ exploits Of thy illustrious house; while virgins […]
All-Accomplished Rover by William Somervile
Man, of precarious science vain, Treats other creatures with disdain; Nor Pug nor Shock has common sense, Nor even Poll the least pretence, Though she prates better than us all, To be accounted rational. The brute creation here below, It seems, is Nature’s puppet show; But clock-work all, and mere machine, What can these idle […]
Advice to the Ladies by William Somervile
Who now regards Chloris, her tears, and her whining, Her sighs, and fond wishes, and aukward repining? What a pother is here, with her amorous glances, Soft fragments of Ovid, and scrapes of romances! An nice prude at fifteen! and a romp in decay! Cold December affects the sweet blossoms of May; To fawn in […]
Address to His Elbow-Chair, New Cloath’d, An by William Somervile
NEW-CLOTHED . M Y dear companion, and my faithful friend! If Orpheus taught the listening oaks to bend; If stones and rubbish, at Amphion’s call, Danc’d into form, and built the Theban wall, Why should’st not thou attend my humble lays, And hear my grateful harp resound thy praise? True, thou art spruce and fine, […]
A Padlock for the Mouth by William Somervile
JACK Dimple was a merry blade, Young, amorous, witty, and well made; ” Discreet!” — Hold, sir, — nay, as I live, My friend, you’re too inquisitive: Discretion, all men must agree, Is a most shining quality, Which, like leaf-gold, makes a great show, And thinly spread sets off a beau: But, sir, to put […]
“Young England–What Is Then Become Of Old” by William Wordsworth
YOUNG ENGLAND–what is then become of Old Of dear Old England? Think they she is dead, Dead to the very name? Presumption fed On empty air! That name will keep its hold In the true filial bosom’s inmost fold For ever.–The Spirit of Alfred, at the head Of all who for her rights watched, toiled […]
Yew-Trees by William Wordsworth
There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, Which to this day stands single, in the midst Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore: Not loathe to furnish weapons for the Bands Of Umfraville or Percy ere they marched To Scotland’s heaths; or those that crossed the sea And drew their sounding bows […]
“Yes! Thou Art Fair, Yet Be Not Moved” by William Wordsworth
YES! thou art fair, yet be not moved To scorn the declaration, That sometimes I in thee have loved My fancy’s own creation. Imagination needs must stir; Dear Maid, this truth believe, Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive. Be pleased that nature made thee fit To feed my heart’s devotion, By […]
Yes, It Was The Mountain Echo by William Wordsworth
YES, it was the mountain Echo, Solitary, clear, profound, Answering to the shouting Cuckoo, Giving to her sound for sound! Unsolicited reply To a babbling wanderer sent; Like her ordinary cry, Like–but oh, how different! Hears not also mortal Life? Hear not we, unthinking Creatures! Slaves of folly, love, or strife– Voices of two different […]
Yarrow Visited by William Wordsworth
And is this -Yarrow? -This the stream Of which my fancy cherished So faithfully, a waking dream, An image that hath perished? O that some minstrel’s harp were near To utter notes of gladness And chase this silence from the air, That fills my heart with sadness! Yet why? -a silvery current flows With uncontrolled […]
Yarrow Unvisited by William Wordsworth
. From Stirling castle we had seen The mazy Forth unravelled; Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay, And with the Tweed had travelled; And when we came to Clovenford, Then said my “winsome Marrow ,” “Whate’er betide, we’ll turn aside, And see the Braes of Yarrow.” “Let Yarrow folk, frae Selkirk town, Who […]