University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Poems and Plays

By William Hayley ... in Six Volumes. A New Edition
Hayley, William (1745-1820)

collapse sectionI. 
VOL. I.
collapse section 
[section]
collapse section 
AN ESSAY ON PAINTING:
 I. 
EPISTLE THE FIRST.
 II. 
EPISTLE THE SECOND.
  
EPISTLE TO A FRIEND,
  
ODE, INSCRIBED TO JOHN HOWARD, Esq. F.R.S.
  
ODE TO Mr. WRIGHT of DERBY.
  
ODE TO THE COUNTESS DE GENLIS.
collapse section 
SONNETS, SONGS, AND OCCASIONAL VERSES.
  
SONNET TO THE EARL OF HARDWICKE
  
SONNET TO EDWARD GIBBON, Esq.
  
SONNET TO THE SAME.
  
SONNET TO EDMUND ANTROBUS, Esq.
  
SONNET TO Dr. HARINGTON
  
SONNET TO WILLIAM MELMOTH, Esq.
  
SONNET TO Mrs. HAYLEY
  
SONNET TO JOHN SARGENT, Esq.
  
SONNET ON ROMNEY's Picture of Cassandra.
  
SONNET TO Mrs. SMITH
  
SONNET TO Mr. WILLIAM LONG
  
EPITAPH ON WILLIAM BRYANT,
  
ON FRANCES KENT,
  
ON MARY HAYLEY.
  
ODE TO DEATH.
  
SONG.
  
SONG.
  
SONG.
  
SONG.
  
SONG.
  
ODE TO RICHARD VERNON SADLEIR, Esq.
  
A CARD of INVITATION TO Mr. GIBBON,
  
TO Mr. MASON,
  
IMPROMPTU TO Mr. MEYER.
  
IMPROMPTU, TO EYLES IRWIN, Esq.
  
A RECEIPT TO MAKE A TRAGEDY.
  
TO Miss SEWARD,
  
CONTENT.
 II. 
VOL. II.
 III. 
VOL. III.
collapse sectionIV. 
VOL. IV.
collapse section 
TRANSLATIONS TAKEN FROM THE NOTES TO THE THIRD EPISTLE OF AN ESSAY ON EPIC POETRY
  
IMITATION.
  
THE INFERNO OF DANTE.
  
SONNET
collapse section 
A SKETCH OF THE ARAUCANA.
 I. 
CANTO I.
 II. 
CANTO II.
 III. 
CANTO III.
 IV. 
CANTO IV.
 V. 
CANTO V.
 VI. 
CANTO VI.
 VII. 
CANTO VII.
 IX. 
CANTO IX.
 XII. 
CANTO XII.
 XIII. 
CANTO XIII.
 XIV. 
CANTO XIV.
 XX. 
CANTO XX.
 XXI. 
CANTO XXI.
 XXXIII. 
CANTO XXXIII.
  
SONNET I.
  
SONNET XIX.
  
SONNET LXXII.
collapse section 
TRANSLATION'S TAKEN FROM THE NOTES TO THE FOURTH EPISTLE OF AN ESSAY ON EPIC POETRY
  
THE SONNET OF GIUSTINA TO PETRARCH.
  
THE ANSWER OF PETRARCH.
 V. 
VOL. V.

collapse section Collapse All | Expand All expand section
previous section Poems and Plays
next section
Many there are who, in this mortal strife,
Have reach'd the slippery heights of splendid life:
For Fortune's ready hand its succour lent;
Smiling she rais'd them up the steep ascent,
96

To hurl them headlong from that lofty seat
To which she led their unsuspecting feet;
E'en at the moment when all fears disperse,
And their proud fancy sees no sad reverse.
Little they think, beguil'd by fair success,
That Joy is but the herald of Distress:
The hasty wing of Time escapes their sight,
And those dark evils that attend his flight:
Vainly they dream, with gay presumption warm,
Fortune for them will take a steadier form;
She, unconcern'd at what her victims feel,
Turns with her wonted haste her fatal wheel.
previous section Poems and Plays
next section