Verses On A Young Lady (playing harpsichord, and singing) by Tobias Smollett

When Sappho struck the quivering wire, The throbbing breast was all on fire: And when she raised the vocal lay, The captive soul was charm’d away! But had the nymph possessed with these Thy softer, chaster power to please; Thy beauteous air of sprightly youth, Thy native smiles of artless truth; The worm of Grief […]

To Mirth by Tobias Smollett

Parent of joy! heart-easing Mirth! Whether of Venus or Aurora born; Yet goddess sure of heavenly birth, Visit benign a son of Grief forlorn; Thy glittering colours gay, Around him, Mirth, display; And o’er his raptured sense Diffuse thy living influence; So shall each hill, in purer green array’d, And, flower-adorn’d, in new-born beauty glow; […]

To Independence by Tobias Smollett

Strophe. Thy spirit, Independence, let me share, Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye, Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare, Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky. Deep in the frozen regions of the north, A goddess violated brought thee forth, Immortal Liberty! whose look sublime Hath bleach’d the tyrant’s cheek in […]

“To fix her!-’twere a task as vain” by Tobias Smollett

To fix her!-’twere a task as vain To count the April drops of rain, To sow in Afric’s barren soil, Or tempests hold within a toil. I know it, friend, she’s light as air, False as the fowler’s artful snare, Inconstant as the passing wind, As winter’s dreary frost unkind. She’s such a miser, too, […]

The Tears of Scotland by Tobias Smollett

Mourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn Thy banish’d peace – thy laurels torn! Thy sons, for valour long renown’d, Lie slaughter’d on their native ground; Thy hospitable roofs no more Invite the stranger to the door; In smoky ruins sunk they lie, The monuments of cruelty. The wretched owner sees afar His all become they prey of […]

The Tears of Scotland by Tobias Smollett

Mourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn Thy banish’d peace – thy laurels torn! Thy sons, for valour long renown’d, Lie slaughter’d on their native ground; Thy hospitable roofs no more Invite the stranger to the door; In smoky ruins sunk they lie, The monuments of cruelty. The wretched owner sees afar His all become they prey of […]

Reproof: A Satire. by Tobias Smollett

POET. Howe’er I turn, or wheresoe’er I tread, This giddy world still rattles round my head! I pant for silence e’en in this retreat- Good Heaven! what demon thunders at the gate? FRIEND. In vain you strive, in this sequester’d nook, To shroud you from an injured friend’s rebuke. POET. An injured friend! who challenges […]

Tobias Smollett – Tobias Smollett

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Love Elegy (in imitation of Tibullus) by Tobias Smollett

Where now are all my flattering dreams of joy? Monimia, give my soul her wonted rest; Since first thy beauty fix’d my roving eye, Heart-gnawing cares corrode my pensive breast. Let happy lovers fly where pleasures call, With festive songs beguile the fleeting hour; Lead beauty through the mazes of the ball, Or press her, […]

“Let the nymph still avoid and be deaf to the swain” by Tobias Smollett

Let the nymph still avoid and be deaf to the swain Who in transports of passion affects to complain, For his rage, not his love, in that frenzy is shown, And the blast that blows loudest is soon overblown. But the shepherd whom Cupid has pierced to the heart Will submissive adore, and rejoice in […]

To Independence by Tobias Smollett

Strophe. Thy spirit, Independence, let me share, Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye, Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare, Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky. Deep in the frozen regions of the north, A goddess violated brought thee forth, Immortal Liberty! whose look sublime Hath bleach’d the tyrant’s cheek in […]

“Come listen, ye students of every degree” by Tobias Smollett

Come listen, ye students of every degree; I sing of a wit and a tutor perdie, A statesman profound, a critic immense, In short, a mere jumble of learning and sense; And yet of his talents though laudably vain, His own family arts he could never attain. His father, intending his fortune to build, In […]

Blue-Eyed Ann by Tobias Smollett

When the rough North forgets to howl, And Ocean’s billows cease to roll; When Libyan sands are bound in frost, And cold to Nova Zembla’s lost! When heavenly bodies cease to move, My blue-eyed Ann I’ll cease to love. No more shall flowers the meads adorn; Nor sweetness deck the rosy thorn; Nor swelling buds […]

Advice: A Satire. by Tobias Smollett

–Sed podice levi Caeduntur tumidæ, medico ridente, mariscæ. O proceres! censore opus est, an haruspice nobis? JUVENAL. –Nam quis Peccandi finem posuit sibi? quando recepit Ejectum semel atteritâ de fronte ruborem? Ibid. POET. Enough, enough; all this we knew before; ‘Tis infamous, I grant it, to be poor: And who, so much to sense and […]

To the City of London by William Dunbar

To the City of London by William Dunbar London, thou art of town{.e}s A per se. Soveraign of cities, semeliest in sight, Of high renoun, riches, and royaltie; Of lordis, barons, and many goodly knyght; Of most delectable lusty ladies bright; Of famous prelatis in habitis clericall; Of merchauntis full of substaunce and myght: London, […]

To a Lady by William Dunbar

To a Lady by William Dunbar SWEET rois of vertew and of gentilness, Delytsum lily of everie lustynes, Richest in bontie and in bewtie clear, And everie vertew that is wenit dear, Except onlie that ye are mercyless Into your garth this day I did persew; There saw I flowris that fresche were of hew; […]

On the Nativity of Christ by William Dunbar

On the Nativity of Christ by William Dunbar RORATE coeli desuper! Hevins, distil your balmy schouris! For now is risen the bricht day-ster, Fro the rose Mary, flour of flouris: The cleir Sone, quhom no cloud devouris, Surmounting Phebus in the Est, Is cumin of his hevinly touris: Et nobis Puer natus est. Archangellis, angellis, […]

Lament for the Makers by William Dunbar

Lament for the Makers by William Dunbar I THAT in heill was and gladness Am trublit now with great sickness And feblit with infirmitie:– Timor Mortis conturbat me. Our plesance here is all vain glory, This fals world is but transitory, The flesh is bruckle, the Feynd is slee:– Timor Mortis conturbat me. The state […]

In Honour of the City of London by William Dunbar

In Honour of the City of London by William Dunbar LONDON, thou art of townes A per se. Soveraign of cities, seemliest in sight, Of high renoun, riches and royaltie; Of lordis, barons, and many a goodly knyght; Of most delectable lusty ladies bright; Of famous prelatis, in habitis clericall; Of merchauntis full of substaunce […]