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University of Virginia Library

The works of Anna Lætitia Barbauld

(1743-1825)

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THE INVITATION.

THE GROANS OF THE TANKARD.

ON THE BACKWARDNESS OF THE SPRING 1771.

VERSES WRITTEN IN AN ALCOVE.

THE MOUSE'S PETITION .

TO MRS. P********,

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[O born to soothe distress and lighten care]

[Of gentle manners, and of taste refined]

[Happy old man! who stretched beneath the shade]

[Such were the dames of old heroic days]

[Is there whom genius and whom taste adorn]

[Champion of Truth, alike through Nature's field]

AN INVENTORY OF THE FURNITURE IN DR. PRIESTLEY'S STUDY.

ON A LADY'S WRITING.

ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE.

HYMN TO CONTENT.

THE ORIGIN OF SONG-WRITING .

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I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

OVID TO HIS WIFE.

VERSES ON MRS. ROWE.

ON THE DEATH OF MRS. JENNINGS .

AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY.

A SUMMER EVENING'S MEDITATION.

TO MR. BARBAULD,

TO MR. BARBAULD,

WRITTEN ON A MARBLE.

A SCHOOL ECLOGUE.

WHAT DO THE FUTURES SPEAK OF?

TO THE BARON DE STONNE,

TO THE BARON DE STONNE,

TO THE MISS WEBSTERS,

EPISTLE TO DR. ENFIELD,

EPISTLE TO WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, Esq.

ON THE EXPECTED GENERAL RISING OF THE FRENCH NATION, IN 1792.

TO DR. PRIESTLEY,

THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN.

INSCRIPTION FOR AN ICE-HOUSE.

AN AUTUMNAL THOUGHT:

TO THE POOR.

TO A LITTLE INVISIBLE BEING

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TO MR. S. T. COLERIDGE:

PEACE AND SHEPHERD.

ON THE DEATH OF MRS. MARTINEAU, Senr.

THE UNKNOWN GOD.

EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND ELEVEN.

ODE TO REMORSE.

ON THE KING'S ILLNESS:

A THOUGHT ON DEATH:

THE FIRST FIRE.

THE CATERPILLAR.

ON THE DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.

THE WAKE OF THE KING OF SPAIN.

THE BABY-HOUSE.

PROLOGUE TO A DRAMA,

TO MRS. MARISSAL:

EPITAPH ON THE SAME.

TO MR. BOWRING,

OCTOGENARY REFLECTIONS.

THE DEATH OF THE VIRTUOUS.

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I.

II.

III.

HYMN III. FOR EASTER SUNDAY.

IV.

V.

VI.

HYMN VI. PIOUS FRIENDSHIP.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

HYMN X. A PASTORAL HYMN.

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XI.

XII.

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192

TO THE POOR.

Child of distress, who meet'st the bitter scorn
Of fellow-men to happier prospects born,
Doomed Art and Nature's various stores to see
Flow in full cups of joy—and not for thee;
Who seest the rich, to heaven and fate resigned,
Bear thy afflictions with a patient mind;
Whose bursting heart disdains unjust controul,
Who feel'st oppression's iron in thy soul,
Who dragg'st the load of faint and feeble years,
Whose bread is anguish, and whose water tears;
Bear, bear thy wrongs—fulfill thy destined hour,
Bend thy meek neck beneath the foot of Power;
But when thou feel'st the great deliverer nigh,
And thy freed spirit mounting seeks the sky,

193

Let no vain fears thy parting hour molest,
No whispered terrors shake thy quiet breast:
Think not their threats can work thy future woe,
Nor deem the Lord above like lords below;—
Safe in the bosom of that love repose
By whom the sun gives light, the ocean flows;
Prepare to meet a Father undismayed,
Nor fear the God whom priests and kings have made.

These lines, written in 1795, were described by Mrs. B., on sending them to a friend, as “inspired by indignation on hearing sermons in which the poor are addressed in a manner which evidently shows the design of making religion an engine of government.”