The Wiccamical Chaplet :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Wiccamical Chaplet

a selection of original poetry; comprising smaller poems, serious and comic; classical trifles; sonnets; inscriptions and epitaphs; songs and ballads; mock-heroics, epigrams, fragments, &c. &c. Edited by George Huddesford

Huddesford, George (1749-1809)

[epigraph]

[dedication]

SMALLER POEMS, AND ODES.

ELEGIES, AND PLAINTIVE PIECES.

NUGÆ POETICÆ, &c.

SONNETS.

INSCRIPTIONS AND EPITAPHS.

SONGS AND BALLADS.

MOCK-HEROICAL AND BURLESQUE PIECES, PARODIES, EPIGRAMS, &c.

MISCELLANEOUS PIECES, FRAGMENTS, &c.

FRAGMENT. ON THE DEATH OF GRAY.

ON TWO PUBLICATIONS, INTITLED EDITIONS OF TWO OF OUR POETS.

FRAGMENT. THE TEARS OF THE EAGLE,

FELICITATION

TO A LADY

THE SCUTTLE FISH.

ANSWER TO AN OLD LADY OF OXFORD,

ON A THREAT TO DESTROY THE TREE AT WINCHESTER,

FRAGMENT.

TO A BOY, ROBBING A BIRD'S-NEST.

ON A LADY AND HER SISTER,

TO THE WRITER OF THE “Familiar Epistle to the Author of the History of English Poetry:”

A DRAMATIC VIEW OF THE STATE OF THE AMERICAN QUESTION 1776.

AN EARLY VIEW OF THE SAME QUESTION:

TO THE LADIES,

FRAGMENT.

LINES

ON A CHAPEL Built at Windsor Lodge by William Duke of Cumberland,

THE COMPLAINT OF THE ROSE.

AN ABSOLUTE ACROSTIC,

FRAGMENT.

ON THE Amphibious N. ELLIOT, of Oxford, Shoemaker and Poet.

LINES Inscribed on a Leaf of Lowth's Grammar,

IMITATION

THE SPLEEN.

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LINES

Written with a Pencil in a Lady's Almanac.

[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Go happy Lines, yet fearful go,
To meet Louisa's secret eye!
Tell what I wish her heart should know,
Yet, rather than declare, I die.

Perhaps she'll scorn ye, and despise
The tribute of a Heart so poor—
Too valueless to be the prize
Of Beauty, proudest Conqueror.

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Then tell her that her Touch alone
Destroys your pencil'd forms with ease;
And say your Fate is like my own,
To be or not, as she shall please.

But should her gentleness now spare,
Pass one short year and ye are not!
A little year shall send ye where
You'll perish among things forgot;

Yet so, how envied should you be!
For who is he would not prefer,
Before an Immortality,
To live a Year or Day with Her?

I fear she'll turn ye all to jest:
Then let her know I've made my prayer;
That, when by Beaux, smart Beaux, carest,
She ne'er may feel a tender care!

But while they sigh, or kneel, or vow,
Think it all done in sport and play;
Or write Love-rhymes (as I do now)
Laugh, but not trust a word they say.