Poems on different occasions [by Cuthbert Shaw] |
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| [I]. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. | ODE XIII.
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| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
 | Poems on different occasions |  |
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ODE XIII.
[While I was absent from my fair]
While I was absent from my fair,
Ye hours, I bad you speed your flight,
Swift as the winds that sweep the air,
Till Delia blest again my sight.
Ye hours, I bad you speed your flight,
Swift as the winds that sweep the air,
Till Delia blest again my sight.
But then you crept with dull delay,
Regardless of a lover's pain;
And slowly brought at length the day
When Delia blest my eyes again.
Regardless of a lover's pain;
And slowly brought at length the day
When Delia blest my eyes again.
Now when the nymph delights my sight,
Ye hours, I bid you softly stay
Your speed, nor with too hasty flight
The precious minutes bear away.
Ye hours, I bid you softly stay
Your speed, nor with too hasty flight
The precious minutes bear away.
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But now on swiftest wings ye move,
And now ye bring that moment near
Which parts me from the nymph I love,
And Delia sheds the tender tear.
And now ye bring that moment near
Which parts me from the nymph I love,
And Delia sheds the tender tear.
O wayward hours, that slowly move,
Or swiftly at your pleasure glide,
Why are ye bent to cross my love,
And from my fair one to divide?
Or swiftly at your pleasure glide,
Why are ye bent to cross my love,
And from my fair one to divide?
Yet vain your malice is and art!
While you pursue your circling race,
You never from my constant heart
My Delia's image can efface.
While you pursue your circling race,
You never from my constant heart
My Delia's image can efface.
| Poems on different occasions | |