Poems by the late Hon. William R. Spencer :: :: University of Virginia Library

Poems by the late Hon. William R. Spencer

A New Edition with Corrections and Additions; To Which is Prefixed A Biographical Memoir by the Editor

Spencer, William Robert (1769-1834)

[section]

POEMS.

DEDICATION TO SARAH, COUNTESS OF JERSEY.

[Ere yet with manhood's vain desire]

THE YEAR OF SORROW.

CHORUS FROM THE IPHIGENIA IN AULIS OF EURIPIDES. WRITTEN AT HARROW SCHOOL, IN THE YEAR 1784.

EPITAPH ON THE COUNTESS HARRIET JENISON, MAID OF HONOUR TO LOUISA, LANDGRAVINE OF HESSE DARMSTADT.

THE BLUSH.

THE VISIONARY.

THE NURSING OF TRUE LOVE.

ANSWER TO A LADY'S VERSES ON “TO-MORROW.”

ORIGIN OF A PEN.

EPITAPH ON MISS SPENCER,

BETH GÊLERT,

TO THE MARCHIONESS OF DOUGLAS AND CLYDESDALE.

PROLOGUE TO “THE GRAVE:”

TO A BUTTERFLY,

PROLOGUE TO THE WYNSTAY MASQUERADE,

SONG.

TO MISS ---.

SYBILLINE VERSES,

INVITATION TO KENSINGTON GARDENS.

LOVE OUT OF PLACE.

TO ---.

TO GEORGE R. CHINNERY, ESQ.

THE EMIGRANT'S GRAVE.

TO THE HON. MISS CREWE (NOW MRS. CUNLIFFE),

GOOD-BYE, AND HOW-D'YE-DO.

TO MY GRAMMATICAL NIECE.

TO A YOUNG POETESS.

TO THE VISCOUNTESS HINCHINBROOK,

SONG FROM THE COMEDY OF URANIA.

SONG FROM THE SAME.

WRITTEN IN A GARDEN.

EPITAPH UPON THE YEAR 1806.

TO THE LADY ANNE HAMILTON.

THANKS TO A LADY

TO LADY ---.

ON A DYING BAY-TREE.

OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE TO LE TEXIER'S PROVERBS.

CHRISTMAS CAROL.

ON THE SOUNDS PRODUCED BY THE WIND PASSING OVER THE STRINGS OF A PEDAL HARP IN A GARDEN.

PARTING SONG.

ON READING MILTON WITH A YOUNG LADY.

TO ---.

ON A LADY'S BIRTHDAY,

ADDRESSED TO LADY SUSAN FINCASTLE,

FROM SISTER DOLLY IN CASCADIA, TO SISTER TANNY IN SNOWDONIA.

TO THOMAS MOORE, ESQ. DECEMBER, 1808.

TO MRS. SPENCER,

TO THE MEMORY OF EDWARD DONEY,

TO SPENCER CAMERON,

LINES SENT TO MRS. HANS SOTHEBY, WITH A CAWDLE-CUP.

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118

[Ere yet with manhood's vain desire]

Ere yet with manhood's vain desire
My vows for Fortune's gifts I breath'd,
Fancy bestow'd a plaything-lyre,
With roses and with cypress wreath'd!

Dearly I prized the tuneful toy,
Nor could my fond ear ascertain,
If most I lov'd its notes of joy,
Or sweeter thought its plaintive strain!

Whene'er my novice hand presum'd
To wake the chords of grief or glee,
The cypress gloom'd, the roses bloom'd,
And all was tears or smiles for me!

Neglected long, I lately tried
This charmer of my infant days;
Alas! each gay sound it denied,
And murmur'd only mournful lays!

Too soon I found the cause, my eyes
Upon its lessen'd garland casting—
E'en Fancy's rose deciduous dies;
Why is her Cypress everlasting!