Poems By Mr. Polwhele. In three volumes |
| I. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| II. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| III. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| Poems | ||
Yet, mark the calmness of thy wiser peers
Whose feelings only vibrate at the touch
Of brighten'd pathos; while the lovelier traits
Of virtue, drawn by delicacy, sink
Into the heart. Then hope not to affect—
Then fondly trust not thy pathetic powers:
Unless, sweet nature's artist, thou hast skill
To pencil her fine attitudes, her air
Attractive, her free drapery's fluid folds;
And, thro' imagination's medium, paint
To passion. Pathos cools, where fashion reigns.
Whose feelings only vibrate at the touch
Of brighten'd pathos; while the lovelier traits
Of virtue, drawn by delicacy, sink
122
Then fondly trust not thy pathetic powers:
Unless, sweet nature's artist, thou hast skill
To pencil her fine attitudes, her air
Attractive, her free drapery's fluid folds;
And, thro' imagination's medium, paint
To passion. Pathos cools, where fashion reigns.
| Poems | ||