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University of Virginia Library

Poems, Epigrams and Sonnets

By R. E. Egerton-Warburton

Egerton-Warburton, R. E. (1804-1891)

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ON SEEING ON THE SAME BOOK-SHELF Johnson's Lives of the Poets, and Johnson's Lives of Highwaymen.

CARVING AND GILDING.

A RETORT UNCOURTEOUS.

A NEW DENOMINATION.

ON A NEW CHURCH, ERECTED A.D. 1842.

ON THE ADMISSION OF JEWS INTO PARLIAMENT.

ON SEEING SOME NAMES CUT ON A PANE OF GLASS.

EVERY MAN HIS HOBBY.

APPROPRIATE NAMES.

A TURN IN THE HIGHLANDS.

NOTES AND QUERIES.

STRIKING BEAUTY.

A BOTTLE OF THE OLD.

A SCENE IN THE HIGHLANDS.

JONES ENLIGHTENED.

SO MUCH FOR SENTIMENT.

[Of old, when the church-building coffer was full]

A LAWYER'S BILL.

PROCRASTINATION.

A PROMISE TO PAY.

CAUTION AND ECONOMY.

THE LITTLE I DRINK.

PADDY'S REMONSTRANCE.

TWO OF A TRADE.

MR. BRIGHT ON THE LAW OF ENTAIL.—1864.

SPIRIT-TAPPING.

HIS LORDSHIP'S INVITATION.

LENGTH AND DEPTH.

LITTLE LOVE.

ON THE FIGURE OF A NEGRO SUPPORTING A DIAL.

ON VISITING THE GREAT DUBLIN BREWERY.

CROSS-QUESTIONING.

THE CENSUS AND THE FAIR DISSENTER.

[Stone ox! if we were hungry you would satisfy but little us]

RAILWAY DIALOGUE.

ARGUMENT OF A DISSENTER

THE CHURCHMAN'S THREE WISHES.

FRENCH CLOCKS, 1876.

FROM THE ITALIAN.

TO A STATUE OF CUPID BEARING A BOW AND QUIVER.

ON AN ILL-NATURED PARASITE.

[Through life the poor dolt who lies buried below]

[A martyr to verse, writing rhymes without number]

[The Duke lieth here; and in sorrow I bend]

[To paint some charms, as poets feign]

ON AN ILL-NATURED BEAUTY.

[Not prettier hands the Queen of Beauty grace]

[Licander in life has one object alone—]

[“Why were prudence and valour to women denied?”]

[“Love! beauteous boy!” Aminta cries]

FROM THE FRENCH.

THE WATERLESS BRIDGE.

CURE FOR TOOTHACHE.

ON THE PICTURE OF THE DUCHESS OF DEVONSHIRE,

THE BARBER ABROAD.

THE LEY OF THE LANDLORD.

THE MAID OF THE INN.

PAST AND PRESENT.

SONNET BY A SAXON.

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92

LITTLE LOVE.

Little Love into my bosom darted,
He kindled a flame there and then departed:
From his fluttering wings as he fled, the air
Blew out the flame he had kindled there:
Little Love flew to my bosom once more,
And kindled a flame as he'd done before;
The fire that he lighted now blaz'd so high
The flame caught his wings as he spread them to fly;
And in spite of himself Little Love must stay,
For his pinions are burnt and won't bear him away.