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University of Virginia Library

Rhapsodies

By W. H. Ireland

Ireland, W. H. (1777-1835)

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DEDICATED, By Permission, TO LADY HUNLOKE, OF WINGERWORTH, DERBYSHIRE.

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EPIGRAM On a gentleman in fear of bailiffs.

LINES Under the statue of Love, by Voltaire.

POOR POLLY, THE MAD GIRL.

SOLILOQUY OF A GARRETEER.

HYMN TO THE DEITY.

LOVE AND PRUDENCE.

EPIGRAM On a known fact.

THE LITTLE RED WOMAN,

SONG—POOR JANE.

LINES By a Poet, to the object of his idolatry.

THE BASTARD's COMPLAINT.

REPLY TO THE BASTARD's COMPLAINT.

ODE TO CHARITY.

LINES To the departed Spirit of a Parent.

THE WHITE LADY ;

EPIGRAM On a set of bell ringers.

LINES On hearing a person maintain that Man might have been formed less vicious.

EPITAPH, Written at the request of a friend, on his much-lamented wife.

LINES On a happy union.

THE ABBEY PORCH, AND MELANCHOLY MAN'S CONTEMPLATION.

EPIGRAM On a country judge.

THE MISTRESS's QUESTION.

THE LOVER's REPLY.

ON THE DEATH OF A FEMALE FRIEND,

ON THE OAK IN PENSHURST PARK,

WILLY, THE FORSAKEN SWAIN.

THE QUESTION RESOLVED.

LINES From Age to Youth.

CUPID AND THE LOVE-SICK MAID.

EMPLOYMENT FOR A MISTRESS AND A WIFE.

FROM THE FRENCH.

CRAZY TOM, THE BEDLAMITE.

LINES Addressed to a young couple on the celebration of their nuptials.

TO AN ABSENT MISTRESS.

A LOVER's KISS.

ADVICE OF FRIENDSHIP.

THE LOVER's REPLY.

PARODY, In answer to the former.

LINES On following a lady with a beautiful turned ancle.

LINES On hearing a young Lady sing the celebrated mad song composed by Purcell.

BALLAD IMITATED.

LINES To a Mistress, who fled every worldly consideration for him she loved.

FROM THE FRENCH OF VOLTAIRE.

ANSWER, In 1802

A BALLAD, OF EDWARD AND ELGIVA, The Nun of St. Agatha.

LINES Addressed to the admirers of aerial excursions;

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LINES On a happy union.

The prince and the noble, I envy them not,
Nor merchant nor miser, the gold they have got;
Contentment I covet; for that I despise
All fancy-drawn visions that dazzle the eyes.

Let some boast the nectar of Bacchus's bowl,
And swear that good liquor enlivens the soul;
I ask not to quaff these libations divine,
Since madness, not pleasure, arises from wine.

Let the libertine boast of his unrestrain'd joys,
I'll tell him that frequency pleasure destroys;
That to love only one is the conduct I chose,
And I find that each virtue concentrates in Rose.

May our constancy baffle the taunts of the gay!
May Love o'er our union expand his pure ray!
In the current of life may no tempest be known,
But Love, fervent Love, claim each day for his own!