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Select poems of Edward Hovel Thurlow

Lord Thurlow
Thurlow, Edward Hovell-Thurlow (1781-1829)

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SONG. To May.
  
VERSES, IN ALL HUMILITY DEDICATED TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS The Prince Regent.
  
THE SECOND ELEGY OF The Fourth Book of Tibullus.
  
THE ROSE.
  
SONNET, ON BEHOLDING THE PORTRAITURE OF SIR PHILIP SIDNEY, IN THE GALLERY AT PENSHURST.
  
SONNET, ON THE DIVINE AND NEVER ENDING MEMORY OF SIR PHILIP SIDNEY .
  
SONNET.
  
SONG. To the Rose.
  
SONNET. To Phœbus.
  
A SONG, IN APRIL.
  
A SONG, To the River Avon.
 1. 
A SONG OF THE SEA-FAIRIES.
 2. 
A SECOND SONG OF THE SEA-FAIRIES.
  
A SONG.
  
TO THE MARQUESS OF HASTINGS:
  
AN EPIGRAM OF ANTIPATER OF SIDON
  
FROM THE GREEK OF ANACREON.
  
SONNET.
  
SONNET.
  
SONNET.
  
SONNET.
  
SONNET.
  
SONNET.
  
SONNET, ON THE EXCELLENT POET, SHAKSPEARE.
  
SONNET, ON THE SAME.
  
SONNET.
  
SONNET.
  
THE PRAISE OF PINDAR, AND THEN OF AUGUSTUS CÆSAR
  
THE SUN-FLOWER.
  
SONNET.
  
EPIGRAM; FROM THE GREEK: In the Seventh Book of the Anthologia.
  
TO THE EARL OF ASHBURNHAM .
  
TO THE EARL SPENCER,
  
TO THE MARQUESS OF HASTINGS,
  
TO THE FOUNTAIN BANDUSIA.
  
TO A BELOVED FRIEND.
  
ON BEHOLDING BODIAM CASTLE,
  
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.
  
SONNET, ON READING THE INDUCTION TO THE MIRROR OF MAGISTRATES, WHEREIN THE POET, LED BY SORROW, DESCENDS TO HELL.
  
SONNET, WHEN TRAVELLING, IN THE EVENING.
  
ON THE SAME EVENING, PASSING NEAR HASTINGS.
  
ON THE SAME EVENING.
  
SONNET.
  
THE DIALOGUE OF HORACE AND LYDIA.
  
SONG, IN ANGELICA.
  
LINES, COMPOSED, WHEN TRAVELLING FROM THE SEA-SIDE.
  
TO THE RIVER THAMES.
  
THE RITES, Had at the Burning of Arcita, of Thebes.
  
SONNET, WRITTEN ON THE LAST DAY OF SUMMER.
  
IN AUTUMN.
  
IN AUTUMN.
  
ON THE POEM OF MR. ROGERS, ENTITLED “AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND.”
  
SONNET.
  
SONNET, IN SPRING.
  
TO VIRGIL.
  
SONNET, TO A BIRD, THAT HAUNTED THE WATERS OF LACKEN, IN THE WINTER.
  
SONG.
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THE ODES OF ANACREON, OF TEOS;
 I. 
ODE I.
 II. 
ODE II.
 III. 
ODE III.
 IV. 
ODE IV.
 V. 
ODE V.
 VI. 
ODE VI.
 VII. 
ODE VII.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII.
 IX. 
ODE IX.
 X. 
ODE X.
 XI. 
ODE XI.
 XII. 
ODE XII.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV.
 XV. 
ODE XV.
 XVI. 
ODE XVI.
 XVII. 
ODE XVII.
 XVIII. 
ODE XVIII.
 XIX. 
ODE XIX.
 XIX. 
ODE XIX.
 XX. 
ODE XX.
 XXI. 
ODE XXI.
 XXII. 
ODE XXII.
 XXIII. 
ODE XXIII.
 XXIV. 
ODE XXIV.
 XXV. 
ODE XXV.
 XXVI. 
ODE XXVI.
 XXVII. 
ODE XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
ODE XXVIII.
 XXX. 
ODE XXX.
 XXXI. 
ODE XXXI.
 XXXII. 
ODE XXXII.
 XXXIII. 
ODE XXXIII.
 XXXIV. 
ODE XXXIV.
 XXXV. 
ODE XXXV.
 XXXVI. 
ODE XXXVI.
 XXXVII. 
ODE XXXVII.
 XXXVIII. 
ODE XXXVIII.
 XXXIX. 
ODE XXXIX.
 XL. 
ODE XL.
 XLI. 
ODE XLI.
 XLII. 
ODE XLII.
 XLIII. 
ODE XLIII.
 XLIV. 
ODE XLIV.
 XLV. 
ODE XLV.
 XLVI. 
ODE XLVI.
 XLVII. 
ODE XLVII.
 XLVIII. 
ODE XLVIII.
 XLIX. 
ODE XLIX.
 L. 
ODE L.
 LI. 
ODE LI.
 LII. 
ODE LII.
 LIII. 
ODE LIII.
 LIV. 
ODE LIV.
 LV. 
ODE LV.

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39

SONNET, ON THE EXCELLENT POET, SHAKSPEARE.

Now that thy worth is like the Summer blown,
Why seek I with my breath to swell thy dower?
Whose Muse can never make thy sweetness known,
So much my love is greater than my power:
Yet, for that Cæsar to the world is dear,
No private man will his affection stint;
Then for the love I bring, in this 'tis clear,
True love it is, though little else be in't:
Whoever shall with finest eyes survey
The secret heart of Nature, and her mind,
Shall know what treasures thou hast made thy prey,
Whom light could not betray, nor darkness blind!
But thou, my Shakspeare, didst a fault commit,
Making the world a beggar by thy wit!
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