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Poetical Sketches

With other poems. By Alaric A. Watts. Fourth Edition. Illustrated with engravings from designs by T. Stothard, R. A. and W. Nesfield
Watts, Alaric Alexander (1797-1864)

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[section]
  
[dedication]
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POETICAL SKETCHES.
  
THE PROFESSION.
  
THE BROKEN HEART.
  
A SKETCH FROM REAL LIFE.
  
THE CLOSING SCENE.
  
TO OCTAVIA,
  
CHAMOUNI.
  
REMEMBER THE PAST!
  
YEARS OF ANGUISH AND GLOOM HAVE GONE BY.
  
STANZAS.
  
TO A POETICAL FRIEND.
  
STANZAS
  
MORNING.
  
EVENING.
  
WOMAN.
  
EUROPA.
  
LINES WRITTEN BENEATH A PICTURE.
  
POSTHUMOUS FAME.
  
A FAREWELL.
  
STANZAS
  
FORGET THEE? NO, NEVER!
  
CYTHNA.
  
LINES, WRITTEN IN THE ANGEL OF THE WORLD.
  
AUTUMN.
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STANZAS FOR MUSIC.
 II. 
II. 'TIS EVE ON THE OCEAN.
 III. 
III. WHILE I UPON THY BOSOM LEAN.
 V. 
V. SACRED MELODY.
 VII. 
VII. WHEN SHALL WE MEET AGAIN?
 VIII. 
VIII. COME, LET US BANISH SORROW.
 IX. 
IX. AND DOST THOU LOVE THE LYRE.
 X. 
X. MY RACE IS ALMOST RUN.
 XII. 
XII. RETOUCH, SWEET FRIEND—RETOUCH THE LUTE.
 XIII. 
XIII. THE PAINS OF MEMORY.
 XIV. 
XIV. THE SOUL THAT WAS SHROUDED.
 XV. 
XV. WHAT NEED OF YEARS—LONG YEARS TO PROVE?
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SONNETS.
 III. 
III. TO ---.
 IV. 
IV. TO SENSIBILITY.
 V. 
V. FROM THE PORTUGUESE OF CAMOENS.
 VI. 
VI. WRITTEN IN A CHURCH-YARD.
 VIII. 
VIII. ON A DOMESTIC CALAMITY
 IX. 
IX. TO SUSPENSE.
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MIRZALA.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX.
 X. 
X.

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173

VI. WRITTEN IN A CHURCH-YARD.

This is a spot to musing grief how dear!
Where, unobserved, she may pour forth her plaint,—
Ponder on pleasures past without restraint—
And breathe the sigh—‘fools should not overhear.’
Much do I love, alone, to linger here,
What time the glow of summer's evening beam
Brightens the landscape round, and Mersey's stream
Sleeps in the mellow light.—Sometimes a tear
Of wild regret will steal into mine eye,
As, musing 'mid these mansions of the dead,
The sweet remembrances of years gone by—
Of joys departed—hopes for ever fled—
Come crowding on my mind; nor would I stem,
For all the wealth of worlds, that woe's luxuriant gem!
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