University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The Poetical Works of the late Christopher Anstey

With Some Account of the Life and Writings of the Author, By his son, John Anstey
Anstey, Christopher (1724-1805)
1 occurrence of Once more, O! ye Muses, from Pindus descend, And bid all the Graces your Footsteps attend, Who oft at Elections are wont to prolong
[Clear Hits]

1  collapse section 
[section]
expand section 
[Some Account of the Life and Writings of the Author]
1  collapse section 
THE NEW BATH GUIDE:
expand sectionI. 
[PART I.]
expand sectionII. 
THE NEW BATH GUIDE. PART II.
  
ON THE MUCH LAMENTED DEATH OF THE MARQUIS OF TAVISTOCK.
  
THE PATRIOT: A PINDARIC EPISTLE, ADDRESSED TO LORD BUCKHORSE.
  
APPENDIX: CONTAINING THE AUTHOR'S CONVERSATION WITH HIS BOOKSELLER, &c.
  
THE FIRST ODE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE IMITATED. AND ADDRESSED TO JOHN MILLER, ESQ. OF BATHEASTON.
1  expand section 
AN ELECTION BALL, IN POETICAL LETTERS
  
ENVY, A POEM
  
WINTER AMUSEMENTS, AN O D E,
  
EPODE
  
LIBERALITY, OR THE DECAYED MACARONI
  
SPECULATION; OR A DEFENCE OF MANKIND.
collapse section 
CHARITY; A POETICAL PARAPHRASE OF THE THIRTEENTH CHAPTER OF ST. PAUL'S FIRST EPISTLE TO THE CORINTHIANS.
 1. 
1.
 2. 
2.
 3. 
3.
 4. 
4.
 5. 
5.
 6. 
6.
 7. 
7.
 8. 
8.
 9. 
9.
 10. 
10.
 11. 
11.
 12. 
12.
 13. 
13.
  
THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER, A POETICAL TALE.
expand section 
OCCASIONAL AND MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.

1 occurrence of Once more, O! ye Muses, from Pindus descend, And bid all the Graces your Footsteps attend, Who oft at Elections are wont to prolong
[Clear Hits]
collapse section Collapse All | Expand All expand section
previous section The Poetical Works of the late Christopher Anstey
next section

3.

[_]

Verse 3.—And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

Though the rich produce of my worldly store
In alms profuse, I lavish on the poor,
Yet all unmov'd their mournful tales can hear,
Nor for their sufferings drop one silent tear;
If ne'er from god-like pity's sacred source
My bounty flow, nor heav'n direct its course,
329

If vanity provoke the generous deed—
Mean is the gift, and small will be its meed;
Though to a martyr's glory I aspire,
And seek my triumphs in the torturing fire,
Firm and undaunted to my latest breath
Brave the slow flame, and court the ling'ring death;
If thy sweet virtues from my soul depart,
Thy Christian love be foreign from my heart,
He best can tell, who all our thoughts surveys,
How vain the boast, the profit, and the praise.
previous section The Poetical Works of the late Christopher Anstey
next section