Poems on several occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Poems on several occasions

By the late Edward Lovibond

Lovibond, Edward (1724-1775)

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ON THE DEATH OF EDWARD LOVIBOND, Esq;

THE TEARS OF OLD MAY-DAY.

DEDICATION TO THE Rev. Mr. WOODDESON, Of Kingston upon Thames, AND THE LADIES of his NEIGHBOURHOOD.

JULIA's PRINTED LETTER TO LORD ---.

ON REBUILDING COMBE-NEVILLE, NEAR KINGSTON, SURREY,

ON LADY POMFRET's PRESENTING THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD WITH HER COLLECTION OF STATUES.

ON RURAL SPORTS.

ODE TO CAPTIVITY.

IMITATION FROM OSSIAN's POEMS,

ODE TO YOUTH.

TO THE THAMES.

TO Miss K--- P---.

TO Miss K--- P---, WITH ANSON's VOYAGE.

THE COMPLAINT OF CAMBRIA

ON A PRESENT to the AUTHOR OF TWO IMPRESSIONS FROM A Fine Antique Seal of the Head of ALEXANDER;

ON THE SUBJECT OF THE MONUMENT IN ARCADIA.

ON THE SAME.

HITCHIN CONVENT.

TO A YOUNG LADY, A VERY GOOD ACTRESS.

TO AN ACCOMPLISHED LADY.

ADDRESS TO THE THAMES.

TO Mrs. B---, Reading Julia with tears, during a hard frost.

ON Mr. BROWN'S Alterations at Clermont,

TO LADY F---, On her Marriage.

SONG.

VERSES Written after passing through Findon, Sussex, 1768.

TO A LADY.

STANZAS.

TO A YOUNG LADY, Who objected to sup with a Party of both sexes, that met at a Coffee-House.

TO THE SAME, ON HER DRESS.

TO THE SAME.

ON Reading the foregoing VERSES.

TO LAURA, ON Her receiving a Mysterious LETTER from A METHODIST DIVINE.

TO THE SAME. ON POLITICS.

TO LAURA. FAREWELL TO THE ROSE.

SONG TO ****.

On Men being deprived, from Custom and Delicacy, of enjoying social Friendship with the Fair Sex.

TO A YOUNG LADY, Fainting at the News of her Friend's Misfortunes.

ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.

TO Miss N---m,

TO THE Mrs.'s R---s,

VERSES WRITTEN AT BRIGHTHELMSTONE.

TO Miss G---,

ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING VERSES.

ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN.

INSCRIPTION FOR A FOUNTAIN.

On the converting the late Mr. WOODDESON's HOUSE, at Kingston, into a Poor-House, and cutting down the great Walk of high Trees before it.

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ON REBUILDING COMBE-NEVILLE, NEAR KINGSTON, SURREY,

Once the Seat of the famous King-making Earl of WARWICK, And late in the Possession of the Family of HARVEY.

I

Ye modern Domes that rise elate
O'er yonder prostrate walls,
In vain your hope to match the state
Of Neville's ancient halls.

II

Dread Mansion! on thy Gothic tower
Were regal standards rais'd;
The Rose of York, white virgin flower,
Or red Lancastria's blaz'd.

III

Warwick, high chief, whose awful word
Or shook, or fix'd the throne,
Spread here his hospitable board,
Or warr'd in tilts alone.

IV

When Combe her garter'd Knights beheld
On barbed steeds advance,
Where Ladies crown'd the tented field,
And Love inspir'd the lance.

V

Historic heralds here array'd
Fair acts in gorgeous style,
But Heroes toils were best repay'd
By bashful Beauty's smile.—

VI

So flourish'd Combe, and flourish'd long
With Lords of bounteous soul;
Her walls still echoed to the song,
And Mirth still drain'd her bowl.

VII

And still her courts with footsteps meek
The fainting traveller prest,
Still Misery flush'd her faded cheek
At Harvey's genial feast.—

VIII

Lov'd seat, how oft, in childish ease,
Along thy woods I stray'd,
Now ventrous climb'd embow'ring trees,
Now sported in their shade,

IX

Along thy hills the chace I led
With echoing hounds and horns,
And left for thee my downy bed,
Unplanted yet with thorns.

X

Now, languid with the noontide beams,
Explor'd thy precious springs

That proudly flow , like Susa's streams,
To temper cups for Kings.

XI

But soon, inspir'd with nobler powers,
I sought thy awful grove;
There frequent sooth'd my evening hours,
That best deceiver Love.

XII

Each smiling joy was there, that springs
In life's delicious prime;
There young Ambition plum'd his wings,
And mock'd the flight of Time.—

XIII

There patriot passions fir'd my breast
With Freedom's glowing themes,
And Virtue's image rose confest
In bright Platonic dreams.—

XIV

Ah me! my dreams of harmless youth
No more thy walks invade,
The charm is broke by sober Truth,
Thy fairy visions fade.—

XV

No more unstain'd with fear or guilt
Such hours of rapture smile,
Each airy fabric Fancy built
Is vanish'd as thy pile!—

Hampton-Court Palace is supplied with water from the springs on Combe Hills.

“There Susa by Choapes' amber stream,
“The drink of none but Kings.”

Milton.