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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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189

SONNET TO A FRIEND.

In thy profession thou hast many peers,
Whose skill may equal thine: but few I know
Whom converse, manners, kindness, so endears
To patients, in that most impatient woe
Disease gives birth to. I would rather be
(As who would not?) a stranger to you all:
But if I were by sad necessity
Compell'd to seek for aid, thine would I call.
For I have found thee, in some tedious hours
Of pain and languor, capable of being
Expert in more than med'cine's healing powers;
Not nauseous drugs, alone, with pomp decreeing,
But nearly able by thy social skill
To make me half forget that I was ill.