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Poems and Plays

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

collapse sectionI. 
VOL. I.
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[section]
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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.
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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.
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VOL. IV.
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TRANSLATIONS TAKEN FROM THE NOTES TO THE THIRD EPISTLE OF AN ESSAY ON EPIC POETRY
  
IMITATION.
  
THE INFERNO OF DANTE.
  
SONNET
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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.
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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.

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110

CANTO IV.

[OMITTED]
Here, cried a Spaniard, far unlike his race,
Nor shall his abject name my verse debase,
Marking his few associates march along,
O that our band were but a hundred strong!
111

The brave Gonsalo with disdain replied:
Rather let two be sever'd from our side,
Kind Heaven! that Memory may our feats proclaim,
And call our little troop The Twelve of Fame!
[OMITTED]
Now in the turbid air a stormy cloud
Spreads its terrific shadow o'er the crowd;
The gathering darkness hides the solar ray,
And to th' affrighted earth denies the day;
The rushing winds, to which the forests yield,
Rive the tall tree, and desolate the field:
In drops distinct and rare now falls the rain;
And now with thickening fury beats the plain.
As the bold master of the martial drum,
Ere to the shock th' advancing armies come,
In aweful notes, that shake the heaven's high arch,
Intrepid strikes the slow and solemn march;
112

But, when the charging heroes yield their breath,
Doubles the horrid harmony of death:
So the dark tempest, with increasing sound,
Pours the loud deluge on the echoing ground.
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