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University of Virginia Library

Poems by Bernard Barton

Fourth Edition, with Additions

Barton, Bernard (1784-1849)

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INTRODUCTORY VERSES TO MARIA HACK

[There is a fame which owes its spell]

THE VALLEY OF FERN.

STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF LIEUT. P---, OF THE R. A.

TO The Memory OF SAMUEL WHITBREAD, ESQ.

STANZAS, TO M. P.

VERSES, WRITTEN IN A BLANK LEAF OF Tighe's Psyche.

STANZAS, Selected from the PAINS OF MEMORY.

STANZAS ON THE Death of Sir Samuel Romilly.

VERSES TO AN INFANT.

TO The Memory OF H--- M---.

STANZAS ON THE Death of a Child.

STANZAS ADDRESSED TO PERCY BYSSHE SHELLY.

HYMN, COMPOSED FOR THE CHILDREN OF A SUNDAY SCHOOL.

VERSES To the Memory of SARAH CANDLER.

SILENT WORSHIP.

VERSES To the Memory of MARY FLETCHER.

MEDITATIONS IN GREAT BEALINGS CHURCH-YARD.

VERSES TO A FRIEND,

STANZAS TO A FRIEND.

TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH;

TO THE GALLIC EAGLE.

VERSES To the Memory of P. Burgess,

STANZAS TO HELEN M--- M---.

FANCY AND IMAGINATION.

“THE HEAVEN WAS CLOUDLESS.”

WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM.

THE MOTHER'S LAMENT.

STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.

STANZAS TO WILLIAM ROSCOE, ESQ.

TO A FATHER, On the Death of his only Child,

SONNET, TO CHARLOTTE M---.

“ALL IS VANITY.”

THE SOLITARY TOMB.

SONNET TO A FRIEND, ON HIS SECOND MARRIAGE.

“THOU ART GONE TO THE LAND OF THE LEAL.”

SONNET TO A FRIEND.

SONNET TO W--- P---.

LINES TO HANNAH AND PHŒBE.

THE AUTHOR'S PARTING ADDRESS TO THE MUSE .

VERSES TO --- ---,

THE QUAKER POET:

“WHO THAT HAS SEEN THE SPEAKING EYE.”

WRITTEN ON A STORMY EVENING.

SEA-SIDE THOUGHTS.

THE WITHER'D LEAF.

TO MY DAUGHTER,

A SONG OF PRAISE.

TO THE LAURUSTINUS.

THE DESERTED MANSION.

THE DYING AMAZON.

A WINTER EVENING DITTY,

TO THE SKY-LARK.

THE CYPRESS TREE.

A CHRISTIAN'S DIRGE.

TO THE EVENING STAR.

KINGLEY BOTTOM,

ON The Death of Samuel Alexander,

CONCLUDING VERSES,

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263

THE CYPRESS TREE.

Oaks have leaves of glossy green,
Bright the holly's fadeless sheen,
Graceful in its slenderness
Is the birch's airy tress,
Sweetly in the rippling wave
Willow boughs their foliage lave;
Beautiful all these may be,
Dearer far the Cypress Tree.

'Tis the tree whose branches wave
Gently o'er the quiet grave;
It has music, scarce of earth,
Wreaths, but not for hours of mirth;
Beauty—proudest flowers above,
Haunts for grief, not bowers for love:
Worldlings from its shadow flee,
Mourners love the Cypress Tree.