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Poems

Namely, The English Orator; An Address to Thomas Pennant Sonnets; An Epistle to a College Friend; and The Lock Transformed. With notes on The English Orator. By Mr. Polwhele
Polwhele, Richard (1760-1838)

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ADDRESS to THOMAS PENNANT, Esq.
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SONNETS.
 1. 
SONNET the FIRST. To Laura. Written 1782.
 2. 
SONNET the SECOND. On being prevented, by a sudden Shower, from meeting Laura. Written 1782.
 3. 
SONNET the THIRD. To his Wife. Written 1784.
 4. 
SONNET the FOURTH. To the same. Written 1784.
 5. 
SONNET the FIFTH. Written at Mamhead, beneath an Evergreen Oak—May, 1785.
 6. 
SONNET the SIXTH. Written at the Belvidere—Powderham, May, 1785.
 7. 
SONNET the SEVENTH.
 8. 
SONNET the EIGHTH.
 9. 
SONNET the NINTH.
 10. 
SONNET the TENTH.
 11. 
SONNET the ELEVENTH.
 12. 
SONNET the TWELFTH.
 13. 
SONNET the THIRTEENTH.
 14. 
SONNET the FOURTEENTH.
 17. 
SONNET the SEVENTEENTH. To Mr. Pratt, on reading his “Landscapes in Verse.” Written September, 1785.
 18. 
SONNET the EIGHTEENTH. To the Reverend Mr. Whitaker, Author of the History of Manchester, On his expressing his Approbation of the “Art of Eloquence.” Written November, 1785.
 19. 
SONNET the NINETEENTH. Presented to Major Drewe, with a Translation of the Military Poems of Tyrtæus.—January 26, 1786.
 20. 
SONNET the TWENTIETH. To the AUTHOR, on seeing his Plan for a History of Devonshire, 1790.
  
EPISTLE TO A COLLEGE-FRIEND,
  
THE LOCK TRANSFORMED.

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207

SONNET the FIFTH. Written at Mamhead, beneath an Evergreen Oak—May, 1785.

Here, Laura, since our wearied Feet have stray'd
From the proud Obelisk that fronts the Scene
Of many a tufted Hill, whose bolder Green
The sweet Perspective blends in mellow Shade;
While, sparkling thro' the stately Fir-trees, play'd
The burnish'd Hamlets of the Vales between,
And while the misty Bosom of the Glade
Seem'd opening to the azure Sea serene—
Here, Laura, let us rest our roving Eyes,
And near this ever-verdant Oak repose;
For lo, unharmoniz'd yon' Prospect lies,
And dim-discovered Views the Landscape close;
Yet clearer Beauties on the Lawn arise,
And, in full Pride, the shadowy Foliage flows!
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