The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour collated with the ms. volume of his poems, and containing several pieces hitherto unpublished; with illustrative notes, and an account of the life of the author. By James Paterson |
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TO A LADY, ON HER TAKING SOMETHING ILL THAT MR H. SAID. |
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 | The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour |  |
1
TO A LADY, ON HER TAKING SOMETHING ILL THAT MR H. SAID.
Why hangs that cloud upon thy brow?
That beauteous heav'n erewhile serene?
Whence do these storms and tempests blow,
Or what this gust of passion mean?
And must then mankind lose that light,
Which in thine eyes was wont to shine,
And lie obscur'd in endless night
For each poor silly speech of mine?
That beauteous heav'n erewhile serene?
Whence do these storms and tempests blow,
Or what this gust of passion mean?
And must then mankind lose that light,
Which in thine eyes was wont to shine,
And lie obscur'd in endless night
For each poor silly speech of mine?
Dear child, how could I wrong thy name?
Thy form so fair, and faultless stands,
That could ill tongues abuse thy fame,
Thy beauty could make large amends:
Or if I durst profanely try
Thy beauty's pow'rful charms t' upbraid,
Thy virtue well might give the lie,
Nor call thy beauty to its aid.
Thy form so fair, and faultless stands,
That could ill tongues abuse thy fame,
Thy beauty could make large amends:
Or if I durst profanely try
Thy beauty's pow'rful charms t' upbraid,
Thy virtue well might give the lie,
Nor call thy beauty to its aid.
For Venus every heart t' ensnare,
With all her charms has deck'd thy face,
And Pallas, with unusual care,
Bids wisdom heighten every grace.
Who can the double pain endure?
Or who must not resign the field
To thee, celestial maid, secure
With Cupid's bow and Pallas' shield?
With all her charms has deck'd thy face,
And Pallas, with unusual care,
Bids wisdom heighten every grace.
Who can the double pain endure?
Or who must not resign the field
To thee, celestial maid, secure
With Cupid's bow and Pallas' shield?
If, then, to thee such pow'r is given,
Let not a wretch in torment live,
But smile, and learn to copy heaven;
Since we must sin ere it forgive.
Yet pitying heaven not only does
Forgive th' offender and the offence,
But even itself appeas'd bestows,
As the reward of penitence.
Let not a wretch in torment live,
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Since we must sin ere it forgive.
Yet pitying heaven not only does
Forgive th' offender and the offence,
But even itself appeas'd bestows,
As the reward of penitence.
| The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour | |