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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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209

SONNET the SEVENTH.

[O Circle, whether erst the Lightning's Lance]

O Circle, whether erst the Lightning's Lance
With its keen Azure shot thy wavy Way;
Or—such the Tales of Village-Maidens say—
The merry Fayes (what Time their Troops advance
To thread the fleeting Mazes of the Dance,
While bends dim Iris in the Lunar Ray)
Form'd, as they tripp'd with many a twinkling Glance,
Thy Ring, to speak their Revels to the Day;
Still fancying, lovely Circle, that I trace
Amid the Features of thy fading Dyes,
The little Footsteps of the Fairy Race—
Still, 'round the springing Verdure, shall arise
In soft Relief, thy gently-curving Grace—
Too trivial but for fond poetic Eyes!
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