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Poems

Namely, The English Orator; An Address to Thomas Pennant Sonnets; An Epistle to a College Friend; and The Lock Transformed. With notes on The English Orator. By Mr. Polwhele
Polwhele, Richard (1760-1838)

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ADDRESS to THOMAS PENNANT, Esq.
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SONNETS.
 1. 
SONNET the FIRST. To Laura. Written 1782.
 2. 
SONNET the SECOND. On being prevented, by a sudden Shower, from meeting Laura. Written 1782.
 3. 
SONNET the THIRD. To his Wife. Written 1784.
 4. 
SONNET the FOURTH. To the same. Written 1784.
 5. 
SONNET the FIFTH. Written at Mamhead, beneath an Evergreen Oak—May, 1785.
 6. 
SONNET the SIXTH. Written at the Belvidere—Powderham, May, 1785.
 7. 
SONNET the SEVENTH.
 8. 
SONNET the EIGHTH.
 9. 
SONNET the NINTH.
 10. 
SONNET the TENTH.
 11. 
SONNET the ELEVENTH.
 12. 
SONNET the TWELFTH.
 13. 
SONNET the THIRTEENTH.
 14. 
SONNET the FOURTEENTH.
 17. 
SONNET the SEVENTEENTH. To Mr. Pratt, on reading his “Landscapes in Verse.” Written September, 1785.
 18. 
SONNET the EIGHTEENTH. To the Reverend Mr. Whitaker, Author of the History of Manchester, On his expressing his Approbation of the “Art of Eloquence.” Written November, 1785.
 19. 
SONNET the NINETEENTH. Presented to Major Drewe, with a Translation of the Military Poems of Tyrtæus.—January 26, 1786.
 20. 
SONNET the TWENTIETH. To the AUTHOR, on seeing his Plan for a History of Devonshire, 1790.
  
EPISTLE TO A COLLEGE-FRIEND,
  
THE LOCK TRANSFORMED.

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208

SONNET the SIXTH. Written at the Belvidere—Powderham, May, 1785.

As Morn's grey Mist, with Skirts of Rainbow Dyes,
Rolls off, yon' opening River points my Sight
(Its Wave amid the Hills one Line of Light)
To where the antique Cathedral Turrets rise!
And there, the rich Varieties surprize
Of Landscape, stretching wide round Halldown's Height
That seems, in scenic Pomp, to reach the Skies,
Each Object, thro' contrasted Shadow, bright!
And here, beyond these dark'ning Firs, that close
Where slopes the castled Park's smooth Turf away,
The dancing Billow to the Sun-beam glows;
Whilst Harmony, her Magic to display,
Soft o'er the blending Whole her Coloring throws,
Yet leaves the threefold Scene distinct as Day!
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