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Nugae Modernae

Morning thoughts, and midnight musings: consisting of casual reflections, egotisms, &c. In prose and verse. By Thomas Park

Park, Thomas (1759-1834)

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EPITAPH FOR A BABE.

CONTENTMENT VINDICATED, AND SPLEEN REPELLED.

AN APOLOGY FOR MY GARDEN .

ON QUITTING A COTTAGE RESIDENCE.

THE FILBERD-TREE.

TO E. W. AUTHOR OF “THE VILLAGE SUNDAY:”

TO MARIA-HESTER.

THE BROAD AND NARROW WAY CONTRASTED.

A MIDNIGHT MUSING.

WRITTEN IN MY “COMPANION TO THE ALTAR.”

TO THE AUTHOR OF “THE SABBATH,” AND OTHER CONTEMPLATIVE POEMS.

WRITTEN ON THE PIER-HEAD AT DOVER, AFTER A VISIT TO DENTON-COURT, THE SEAT OF SIR EGERTON BRYDGES, BART.

ON READING THE POEMS OF HURDIS, AFTER A PERUSAL OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS'S ACADEMIC DISCOURSE ON GAINSBOROUGH.

LINES WRITTEN WHILE THE SUBJECT OF THEM WAS TAKING AN AFTERNOON NAP IN HER ELBOW-CHAIR.

SOMNIUM JUCUNDISSIMUM.

A WALKING RUMINATION.

TO THE POET LAUREATE, AFTER READING HIS EPIC ENTITLED “MADOC.”

TO THE REV. HAY DRUMMOND,

INSCRIPTION FOR AN IVY BOWER.

TO EDWARD, LORD THURLOW,

TO MARIA-HESTER.

ON HEARING OF THE DEATH OF BISHOP THOMAS, WHILE AT TUNBRIDGE-WELLS, IN KENT.

OCCASIONED BY THE POEMS OF DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN, First printed in 1616.

TO C.-C. P. WITH BISHOP WILSON'S “SACRA PRIVATA.”

[Such feeling prompts a passing culogy]

ON PUTTING A FAMILY RING UPON MY FINGER, WITH THE MOTTO “MEMENTO MORI.”

OBLOQUY INVITABLE.

SPIRITUAL ASPIRATION.

TO MR. MESSER, ON THE LOSS OF HIS SON ISAAC.

A MIDNIGHT MUSING.

TO MISS P. ON HER REMOVAL FROM HAMPSTEAD.

TO MISS D. ON RETURNING SOME COMMENDATORY VERSES, WHICH EXPRESSED A WISH THAT THE OBJECT OF HER CHOICE MIGHT BE HEAVEN-CHOSEN.

TO MR. B. WHEN HIS WIFE WAS INCAPABLE OF TAKING NOURISHMENT AFTER HAVING RECEIVED THE LORD'S SUPPER.

THE DEATH-SONG OF A CHRISTIAN.

TO A PIOUS YOUNG FRIEND.

ALLODIUM SEPULCHRALE: OR, THE POET'S LANDED PROPERTY.

GLORIA IN EXCELSIS DEO.

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92

TO THE REV. HAY DRUMMOND,

ON READING HIS VOLUME OF POEMS, ENTITLED “VERSES SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC.”

Our Scotian Petrarch's amatory verse
So long hath made the name of Drummond dear,
That oft I've wish'd, near Esk's meandering course,
To place a garland on the poet's bier.
But doubly priz'd by my enamour'd thought
Shall that lov'd name to latest life remain,
Since Hay's pure strains, with hallow'd feeling fraught,
Gave to each throbbing pulse luxurious pain.

93

And though no mortal hand may hope to twine
The myrtle-chaplet for a widow'd brow,—
The palm of Christian piety is thine,
The band of brotherhood which saints bestow,
And the bright crown that waits the blest above
Who here have shap'd their course by the mild star of Love.

This amiable writer, the son of a late Archbishop of York, lost his life by the upsetting of a coasting vessel, on board of which he had made up a domestic party to take sketches.