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Poems on various subjects

By R. Anderson
Anderson, R. (1770-1833)
  
[epigraph]
  
[dedication]

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Miscellanies.
  
THE SOLDIER,
  
ODE TO SLEEP.
  
THE PEASANT.
  
EVENING,
  
THE SLAVE.
  
EPIGRAM.
  
RETIREMENT.
  
THE ROSE.
  
FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND WINE.
  
SPRING,
  
ODE TO CONTENT.
  
EVENING,
  
ODE TO CARE.
  
LINES UPON VISITING CORBY,
  
HYMN, WRITTEN SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1798.
  
THE JOURNEY OF LIFE.
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Epistles.
 I. 
EPISTLE I. TO ROBERT BURNS.
 II. 
EPISTLE II. TO A YOUTHFUL FRIEND,
 III. 
EPISTLE III. TO A FRIEND IN LONDON.
 IV. 
EPISTLE IV. TO A YOUNG LADY.
 V. 
EPISTLE V. TO A LADY.
 VI. 
EPISTLE VI. TO A YOUNG LADY,
 VII. 
EPISTLE VII. TO A YOUNG LADY,
 VIII. 
EPISTLE VIII. TO A FRIEND, IN THANKS FOR HIS LETTER.
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Sonnets.
 I. 
SONNET I. TO J. C. CURWEN, ESQ. M. P.
 II. 
SONNET II. TO THE LARK.
 III. 
SONNET III. TO AN AGED PARENT, ON SEEING HIM SHED TEARS.
 IV. 
SONNET IV. WRITTEN IN WINTER.
 V. 
SONNET V. TO A ROSE IN ELIZA'S BOSOM.
 VI. 
SONNET VI. TO A YOUNG LADY, WITH SOME SONGS IN MANUSCRIPT.
 VII. 
SONNET VII. EVENING.
 VIII. 
SONNET VIII. TO JOHN HORNE TOOKE, ESQ.
 IX. 
SONNET IX. TO THE RIVER EDEN.
 X. 
SONNET X. TO A REDBREAST, WHICH VISITED THE AUTHOR DAILY FOR SOME MONTHS.
 XI. 
SONNET XI. TO THE SAME.
 XII. 
SONNET XII. TO A YOUNG LADY LABOURING UNDER A SEVERE ILLNESS.
 XIII. 
SONNET XIII. TO A POOR BOY.
 XIV. 
SONNET XIV. TO ELIZA.
 XV. 
SONNET XV. TO A PRETENDED FRIEND.
 XVI. 
SONNET XVI. NIGHT.
 XVII. 
SONNET XVII. TO THE RIVER CALDEW.
 XVIII. 
SONNET XVIII. TO MR. ROBERT CARLILE.
 XIX. 
SONNET XIX. TO ELIZA.
 XX. 
SONNET XX. WRITTEN IN SPRING.
 XXI. 
SONNET XXI. TO AN UNFORTUNATE FEMALE.
 XXII. 
SONNET XXII.
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SONGS.
 I. 
SONG I. A LASSIE AND A GILL.
 II. 
SONG II. THE CAPTIVE.
 III. 
SONG III. MARIAN.
 IV. 
SONG IV. GENEROUS WINE.
 V. 
SONG V. BEN BOWSER'S MAXIM.
 VI. 
SONG VI. LUCY GRAY OF ALLENDALE,
 VII. 
SONG VII. DONALD OF DUNDEE.
 IX. 
SONG IX. HARK AWAY!
 X. 
SONG X. DEARLY DO I LOVE THEE.
 XI. 
SONG XI. THEODORE AND ANNETTE.
 XII. 
SONG XII. I SIGH FOR THE GIRL I ADORE.
 XIII. 
SONG XIII. LUCKLESS JEAN.
 XIV. 
SONG XIV.
 XV. 
SONG XV. POLLY.
 XVI. 
SONG XVI. COME, SWEET GIRL, AND LIVE WITH ME.
 XVII. 
SONG XVII. THE LASSES O' THE LYNE.
 XVIII. 
SONG XVIII. FAIR SALLY.
 XIX. 
SONG XIX. ELIZA.
 XX. 
SONG XX. BONNY JEM THAT'S O'ER THE SEA.
 XXI. 
SONG XXI. KATE.
 XXII. 
SONG XXII. ABSENCE.
 XXIII. 
SONG XXIII. ELLEN AND I.
 XXIV. 
SONG XXIV. AUTUMN.
 XXV. 
SONG XXV. JULIA.
 XXVI. 
SONG XXVI. TO-MORROW.
 XXVII. 
SONG XXVII. NANNY OF THE TWEED.
 XXVIII. 
SONG XXVIII. DONALD.
 XXIX. 
SONG XXIX. WILLY OF EDEN SIDE.
 XXX. 
SONG XXX. THE LOVELY BROWN MAID.
 XXXI. 
SONG XXXI. KATE OF DOVER.
 XXXII. 
SONG XXXII SUMMER.
 XXXIII. 
SONG XXXIII. THE SWEETEST FLOWER OF YARROW.
 XXXIV. 
SONG XXXIV.
 XXXV. 
SONG XXXV. HONEST JACK.
 XXXVI. 
SONG XXXVI. MY DEARY, O.
 XXXVII. 
SONG XXXVII. THE SEASON OF LOVE.
 XXXVIII. 
SONG XXXVIII. COLLIN'S COMPLAINT.
 XXXIX. 
SONG XXXIX. MUIRLAND WILLY.
 XL. 
SONG XL. HENRY.
 XLI. 
SONG XLI. DEARLY I LOVE JOHNNY, O.
 XLIV. 
SONG XLIV. THE PRESS-GANG.
 XLV. 
SONG XLV. THE BEGGAR GIRL.
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Epigrams, &c.
  
EPITAPH ON A WICKED MAN.
  
DEATH AND THE DOCTOR.
  
TO WITLESS.
  
EPIGRAM.
  
THE IRISH ECHO.
  
THE HUSBAND TO DEATH.
  
TO AN ARTIST.
  
FORTUNE'S FOOL.
  
THE MISER'S FEAST.
  
EPITAPH.
  
EPITAPH ON A FRIEND.

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14

THE PEASANT.

'Tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glitt'ring grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.
Shakespeare.

How blest the lowly Peasant's life,
Tho' Splendour scorns his humble lot,
Who, free from lordly cares and strife,
Thinks no gay palace like his cot.
When Nature hails the morning grey,
Health wakes him o'er his fields to roam;
And at the dusky close of day,
Contentment leads him to his home.
Brisk Labour, Mirth, and rural Sport,
Attend him o'er his homely fare;
He knows but by its name the court,
And wonders man should man ensnare.
15

With breast from pride and envy free,
Disturbers of the tools of state,
He laughs at slaves of high degree,
And cheerful meets the storms of fate.
Far from Riot rude and Noise,
Far from Pleasure's magic ring,
Ever tasting life's pure joys—
Who, ah! who, would be a king!
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