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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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250

THE DESERTED MANSION.

SONNET I.

As lightly, in November's cheerless sky,
Thy smoke ascends,—and to the eye as fair
Thy flowers in spring may bloom; thy trees may wear
Their summer coronals as bright of dye;
And glorious, as in days and years gone by,
Thy hues autumnal: yet a change is there
Which no revolving seasons can repair,
For thou hast lost what these may not supply.
Gone are art's treasur'd works! That art which hung
Unfading splendour on each trophied wall;
Where living beauty—which appeal'd to all,
A silent fascination round it flung,
Till admiration loos'd the gazer's tongue,
Owning the mastery of its magic thrall.