Skip directly to:Main content Main navigation

University of Virginia Library

Poems by Bernard Barton

Fourth Edition, with Additions

Barton, Bernard (1784-1849)

collapse section

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.

TO LYDIA.

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,

collapse section

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

61

TO LYDIA.

Midnight has stol'n upon me! sound is none,
Save when light, tinkling cinders, one by one,
Fall from my fire; or its low, fluttering blaze,
A faint and fitful noise at times betrays;
Or distant baying of the watch-dog, caught
At intervals. It is the hour of thought;
Canst thou then marvel, now that thought is free,
Memory should wake, and Fancy fly to thee?—
That she should paint thee, wrapp'd in peaceful sleep?
While round thy happy pillow spirits keep
Their post unseen: those watchers of the night,
Who, o'er the innocent, with fond delight
Stand sentinels, and, by their guardian power,
Preserve from evil Virtue's slumbering hour.
Calm, healthful, and refreshing be thy rest!
And be thy dreams as blissful, as e'er blest,
In Fancy's sweetest, purest, loveliest mood,
The hours of stillness and of solitude!