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The Uncollected Poems of Henry Timrod

Timrod, Henry (1828-1867)

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NOT A GRIN WAS SEEN
 
TO THE SNOWDROP
 
NO DEEPER, NO MORE FEARFUL CURSE
 
GEM OF BEAUTY!
 
THE DREAM OF THE LOCK
 
LIKE THAT SOFT LUSTRE
 
SONNET
 
FORGIVE IT, LADY
 
PERFECT LOVE
 
MY COUSIN LOU!
 
MISCHIEVOUS! GEORGE IS OUT HIS SENSES
 
WHAT ATHENS DULL
 
STARS MAY HIDE THEIR GENTLE LIGHT
 
SONNET
 
ISABEL
 
AS THE LAST BEAMS OF STARS
 
LINES
 
SENTIMENTAL—VERY
 
A FIG FOR THE CRITICS!
 
CHOICE IN EYES
 
SIX MONTHS'S SUCH A WONDERFUL TIME
 
FOR HIGH HONOURS
 
I THOUGHT THY NAME
 
TO CULL THE CHOICEST FLOWERS OF SONG
 
WE WALK'D BENEATH THE SHADOW
 
A LIGHT UPON MY PATHWAY GLEAMS
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[TO ARABELLA]
 
SONNET I
 
[Sonnet] II
 
[LINES]
 
SONNET
 
SONNET
 
LINES
 
THREE COUSINS
 
THE BEAMS OF THOSE EYES
 
SWEET IF YOU DEEM
 
THE BREEZES THROUGH THE WOODLANDS MOAN
 
APOLOGY TO TOM FOR MALTREATING HIS ‘FRIEND’
 
SONNET
 
SONNET
 
OH! MAY THY DESTINY BE HAPPY EVER
 
MY HEART WAS GAZING INTO THINE
 
SWEET LET NOT OUR SLANDERERS
 
LET V---Y PRATTLE
 
ACROSTIC
 
LATE THE HOUR
 
I DREAM'D THAT IN A SECRET NOOK
 
OH! IF SHE THINKS THE CORD TOO SLENDER
 
TIRED OF THE CRUEL SPORT
 
WRITTEN IN A PSALM-BOOK
 
THERE IS I KNOW NOT WHAT ABOUT THEE
 
WHILST I ENJOY'D THY SMILES
 
I TELL THEE, LOVE
 
[LINES]
 
AT NIGHT WHEN ALL IN SLEEP ARE STILL
 
I'VE HEARD, STILL DEAR ONE
 
FOR YET THY CHARMS RETAIN THEIR SWAY
 
LADY I DEEM'D NO SPOT ON EARTH
 
FRAGMENT OF A DREAM
 
DIVISION OF LOVE'S EMPIRE
 
A LITTLE SPOT OF DINGY EARTH
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NO WIND, NOT EVEN A FLUTTERING BREATH
 
SONNET I
 
[Sonnet] II
 
LET NOT THESE HARMLESS JOYS
 
IMAGINE IF YOU CAN A BARNYARD SCENE
 
THE HUNGRY OWLET HOOTS MELODIOUSLY
 
TWO LILIES ON A BROKEN STALK
 
FORGIVE ME THAT I DARE TO TRACE
 
THE ROSE THAT BLOOMS
 
SONNET
 
IN BOWERS OF EASE
 
TO LOVE
 
GOD BLESS THEE THEN!
 
BEHOLD THE YOUTH
 
SONNET
 
ODE
 
SONNET
 
LINES
 
ODE
 
LINES
 
THREE PICTURES
 
TO ANNA
 
A BRACELET
 
LINES
 
SONNET
 
STANZAS
 
HERE LET ME WRITE MY NAME
 
SONG

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TIRED OF THE CRUEL SPORT

Tired of the cruel sport of shooting darts
With never failing skill at human hearts,
Cupid resolv'd on some one to bestow
His power of causing happiness or woe.
So he broke his leaden shaft and threw it down,
Thy power he cried belong to Anne's frown.
The golden arrows from the quiver's tie
Releas'd, he plac'd in Anne's laughing eye.
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