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University of Virginia Library

Songs and Poems from 1819 to 1879

By J. R. Planché

Planché, J. R. (1796-1880)

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I.

STANZAS TO A BROKEN LUTE.

STANZAS FOR MUSIC.

TO------, WITH A RING.

TO THOMAS MOORE, ESQ.

VENETIAN MELODY.

LINES ON PASSING THROUGH FRANCE.

VULCAN AND HYMEN.

IRISH MELODY. No. 1.

IRISH MELODY. No. 2.

IRISH MELODY. No. 3.

IRISH MELODY. No. 4.

IRISH MELODY. No. 5.

ON THE DEATH OF MRS. ---

OLD ENGLISH MELODY.

TO J--- H---, ESQ., ON HIS MARRIAGE.

TO MY WIFE AFTER AN ILLNESS.

“THERE WAS A TIME.”

OH! NOT BY THE RIVER.

FROM THE FRENCH.

FROM THE PORTUGUESE OF CACCEORUS.

ASK YE WHERE MY HOME?

SOUVENIR OF MOUNT EDGECUMBE.

ON HEARING A LADY SING “LOVE IS PASSING.”

ON LEAVING PENCARROW.

“POVERTY PARTS GOOD COMPANY.”

THE FLOWERS OF TOWTON FIELD.

PROLOGUE TO THE “FORTY THIEVES.”

PROLOGUE TO “VALENTINE AND ORSON.”

SONG FROM “BABIL AND BIJOU.”

LOVE'S GIFTS.

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT.

“WITH WOMAN AS WITH OTHER GAME.”

“WHEREFORE NOT BEING SAD.”

OH! YE LORDS OF THE CREATION!

LINES ON THE DEATH OF CARL MARIA VON WEBER.

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II.

SOME OLD READINGS OF OLD NURSERY RHYMES.

TO SYDNEY HALL, ESQ.

A CHRISTMAS GREETING.

“THE MAGPIE” TO “THE MAID.”

A WORD IN SEASON.

UNSUPPORTED SUPPORTERS.

A LITERARY SQUABBLE.

JOHN BROWN'S ANSWER

MADAME VESTRIS'S ANSWER TO THE ALPHABET.

INTRODUCTION TO “MIRTH.”

NOTES OF AN OLD MOCKING-BIRD.

THE STORY OF ARIADNE.

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103

LOVE'S GIFTS.

I

I gave my love a fan, before she knew
I loved her more than dared my tongue impart!
She took it with a smile; but saw not through
Mine eyes, that I had given her first my heart.
O fan! how envied I the happy air
Thou brought'st a wooing to that face so fair!

II

I gave her flowers, Nature's living gems;
The likest things to her on earth I've known!
All beauty, grace, and sweetness, diadems
To bind her brow, and posies for her zone.
O happy flowers! what had I given to be,
Like ye, on that fair breast, though but to die!

III

I gave my love a ring. No costly prize;
Nought but a little, simple hoop of gold.

104

She placed it on her fingers with sweet sighs,
And sweeter looks, that made my tongue more bold.
“O happy ring! upon that hand to shine!
O lovely lady! would that hand were mine!”

IV

My love gave me—a kiss. O wanton air,
I envy thee no more! O luckless flowers!
I breathe fresh life upon that bosom fair,
Where ye but perish in a few short hours!
O ring! a finger thou dost clasp alone!
My arms encircle all, for she is all mine own!