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Poems and Songs by E. H. B. [i.e. E. H. Bickersteth]

Bickersteth, Edward Henry (1825-1906)

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LINES WRITTEN ON HEARING MY DAUGHTER SING MRS. NORTON'S “THERE IS NO TRACE OF THEE AROUND.”

A LAMENT FOR PERSIA.

OH! BRING MY LUTE.

STANZAS TO ---.

TO THE MEMORY OF MALIBRAN.

TO THE GILLY-FLOWER.

TO THE SNOWDROP.

BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL SEA.

WRITTEN ON SEEING THE QUEEN PASS THROUGH THE ROYAL GALLERY TO THE HOUSE OF LORDS,

DAVID'S LAMENTATION OVER SAUL AND JONATHAN.

LINES SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE PAINTED ON AN INDIAN TABLE.

TO MY DAUGHTER'S BIRD.

GUIDO'S MAGDALENE.

LINES WRITTEN ON LEAVING THE ISLE OF WIGHT.

ELEGY TO L. E. L.

THE SILENT LUTE.

TO THE NEW YEAR.

LINES SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY MY DAUGHTER ON LEAVING HER SCHOOL GARDEN AT---

THAT MOCKING LIP.

“HEARTS-EASE.”

LINES ADDRESSED TO --- ON ATTAINING TWENTY-ONE YEARS OF AGE.

TO THE BIRD OF PARADISE.

OH! CEASE THOSE BELLS.

THE SONG OF FINGAL.

THE POET'S WREATH.

FAREWELL TO THE YEAR.

ON BEING ASKED BY MY CHILDREN TO JOIN IN THEIR PASTIMES

THE FLOWER GIRL'S SONG.

OH! WEEP NOT FOR THE DEAD.

THE KNIGHT AND THE LADY.

THE FLOWERS ARE ALL FADING.

TO A YOUNG FRIEND,

WRITTEN ON THE OCCASION OF QUEEN VICTORIA'S VISIT TO THE CITY OF LONDON,

ON THE DEATH OF A NEPHEW.

A MOTHER TO HER SLEEPING CHILD.

STANZAS TO SPRING.

IMPROMPTU ON A BLADE OF GRASS.

WHY WAKE THE LONG FORGOTTEN LAY?

CONRAD TO MEDORA.

MEDORA TO CONRAD.

WHAT IS THE SUNSHINE OF THE HEART?

ADDRESSED TO A FRIEND,

WRITTEN ON VISITING BLACK GANG CHINE,

INVOCATION TO MY MUSE.

VENUS AND CUPID.

THE BRANCH OF THE ALMOND TREE.

A MOTHER TO HER SON ON HIS BIRTHDAY.

TO A FAVORITE POET.

TO A YOUTH ON THE DEATH OF HIS MOTHER.

THE LILY OF THE VALLEY.

CLEOPATRA TO MARC ANTHONY.

TO THE MEMORY OF ------.

ASPASIA TO PERICLES.

A SICK PARENT'S BEDSIDE.

FAREWELL TO THE YEAR WHICH IS PAST.

FAREWELL TO GUERNSEY.

“OH! HEED NOT THOSE BEAMS.”

ELEGIAC STANZAS ON A DEPARTED PARENT.

MY SUMMER-HOUSE.

TO MARY.

YES, WE WILL MEET.

HE COMES NOT YET.

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197

TO MARY.

Mark the soft lustre of her eye,
As shining through its fringe;
Roses have spread their faintest dye,
Young beauty's cheek to tinge.

At every step her fairy feet
Now brush the morning dew:
No danger shall those footsteps meet,
Each sylph to Mary true.