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University of Virginia Library

Songs, Ballads, and Other Poems

by the late Thomas Haynes Bayly; Edited by his Widow. With A Memoir of the Author. In Two Volumes

Bayly, Thomas Haynes (1797-1839)

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FASHIONABLE ECLOGUES.

WEEDS OF WITCHERY.

SEASONABLE DITTIES.

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

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SONGS AND BALLADS.

SHOW ME THE RUINED MAN.

UPON THY TRUTH RELYING.

THE GIPSIES' HAUNT.

THE FIRST GREY HAIR.

HE RODE BY AT MORN.

HERE'S A BUMPER TO HER.

HE CAME AT MORN.

I THOUGHT OF THEE.

I CANNOT CALL THEE FAIR.

I HAVE KNOWN THEE IN THE SUNSHINE.

I WILL NOT SAY THAT THE WORLD IS GAY.

I HAVE ROAMED THE WORLD OVER.

I'LL ONLY HEAR THE WORD—FAREWELL!

IT IS NOT ON THE BATTLE FIELD.

NO LOVER COMES TO ME.

OH! NOT WHEN YOUTH AND JOY ARE THINE.

OH, LETHE'S STREAM!

ONCE 'TWAS MY HOPE.

SAY—WHERE IS THE NIGHTINGALE?

SONG OF GERALDINE.

SHE WATCHED FOR HIM.

I'LL NOT WED A BARON.

WE'VE SAIL'D UPON THE WINTRY WAVE.

TO HELENA, ON HER BIRTHDAY.

THE HEART THAT I GAVE TO THEE.

THERE WAS A BARD IN FEUDAL TIMES.

WHAT SHALL BE MY THEME?

TAKE YOUR POLITICS HENCE.

THE SONG OF THE DYING BARD.

SHALL WE EVER BE HAPPY AGAIN?

THE DRAWING ROOM.

THE UNWILLING BRIDE.

APOLLO AND DAPHNE.

MY HEART IS NOT YET BROKEN!

FROM THE ENDS OF THE EARTH WILL I CALL UPON THEE.

CUPID AND PSYCHE.

THEY HAVE SEEN BETTER DAYS.

HE KNEW SHE NEVER BLAMED HIM.

NO, NO, LEAVE ME NOT TO MY SORROW.

THE FASHION OF THIS WORLD PASSETH AWAY.

I'LL NAME THE PLACE.

THOU SHALT LAUGH ALL THE HEATHEN TO SCORN.

OH! YOUTH IS THE TREASURE.

I'LL NOT BELIEVE IT.

THE EXHIBITED DWARF.

WE MUST FOLLOW TO THE TOMB.

THE FIRST CREATED MORTAL.

THE FORSAKEN TO THE FALSE ONE.

I HAVE NOT KNOWN THEE LONG.

SIR HUGH IS GONE TO PALESTINE.

COME, WE'LL HAVE NO FROWNS TO DAY.

I LOVED HIM, BUT I LEFT HIM.

LEA'S BRIDAL DAY.

'TWAS THIS—'TWAS THIS.

NEW YEAR'S DAY.

ASK NOT THE COLOUR OF MY ROSA'S EYES.

LOVE HAS BEEN THERE.

A GENT. IN DIFFS.

THE FATHERLESS.

THE FORSAKEN TO HER FATHER.

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THE NEGLECTED CHILD.

A COUNTRY BALL ON THE ALMACK'S PLAN.

SEEING'S NOT BELIEVING.

MY DEJEUNER A LA FOURCHETTE.

WHY DON'T THE MEN PROPOSE?

MY MARRIED DAUGHTER COULD YOU SEE.

MY CREAM-COLOUR'D PONIES.

THE MAN WITH THE TUFT.

THE FEMALE OPIUM-EATER.

WHAT, THOUGH WE WERE RIVALS OF YORE.

OLD AGE AND YOUTH.

DEAR HARP OF OLD ERIN.

I BLAME THEE NOT.

I MOURN FOR HER I'VE LOST.

OH THOSE ARE THE ELOQUENT LIPS.

WHERE IS MY LOVER.

THEY DEEM IT A SORROW GONE BY.

WRITE ON THE SAND.

OF WHAT IS THE OLD MAN THINKING?

SHE WORE A WREATH OF ROSES.

SOMETHING TO LOVE.

OH! WHEN IT IS TOO LATE.

WHEN YOU AND I WERE BOYS TOGETHER.

SHE WOULD NOT KNOW ME.

THE OLD HOUSE AT HOME.

LONG, LONG AGO.

THE LOVER'S LAY.

LOVE IS THE THEME OF THE MINSTREL.

THE WEDDING AT ST. AGNES.

THE OLD BACHELOR.

THE MAN THAT HAS BEEN YOUNGER.

DON'T SING ENGLISH BALLADS.

THERE DWELT A LADY VERY YOUNG.

MY DAUGHTER'S AN ACCOMPLISHED GIRL.

EXPERIENCE, OR THE WAY OF THE WORLD.

TEA AND TURN OUT.

MY DAUGHTER FAN.

THO' FIFTY, I AM STILL A BEAU!

DRESS'D FOR THE LEVEE!

THE ROSE THAT ALL ARE PRAISING.

I KNOW HE DOTH NOT LOVE ME.

BEFORE THE BALL.

AFTER THE BALL.

POEMS AND SONGS.

SONGS OF THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY.

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I MOURN FOR HER I'VE LOST.

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Believe me not cold, tho' my bosom refuses
One sigh or one thought for the beauties I see,
For love cannot visit my heart till it loses
All trace of that one that was dearest to me.

Unmov'd I view the charms they boast,
For midst the forms that dazzle most,
I think of her I've lov'd,
I mourn for her I've lost.

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And if, in their features, my eye faintly traces
A likeness of one I still fondly prefer,
How vainly I seek in their loveliest graces
The mind which gave value the beauty in her.

Unmov'd I view, &c.