Select poems of Edward Hovel Thurlow Lord Thurlow |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. | ODE IV.
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| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
 | Select poems of Edward Hovel Thurlow |  |
6
ODE IV.
[“On a tender myrtle bed]
“On a tender myrtle bed,
“Or where lotus leaves are shed,
“Let me drink a gentle round:”
“Or where lotus leaves are shed,
“Let me drink a gentle round:”
Love stood by, his tunick bound
With papyrus; and, the while,
Pour'd the wine with golden smile.
With papyrus; and, the while,
Pour'd the wine with golden smile.
Like the circle of a wheel,
Flying life away doth steal:
And a little dust we lie,
When Fate gives the word to die.
Flying life away doth steal:
And a little dust we lie,
When Fate gives the word to die.
What needs it, then, the stone t'anoint?
Special, if here you disappoint
Our greedy thirst? or on the earth
To pour down the goblet's worth?
Special, if here you disappoint
Our greedy thirst? or on the earth
To pour down the goblet's worth?
7
Me rather, while I live, with oil
Anoint; and with the roses' spoil
Adorn my head: for life is short:
And call me now a maid to court.
Anoint; and with the roses' spoil
Adorn my head: for life is short:
And call me now a maid to court.
Yes, O Love, ere yet I go
To the shady quires below,
Fain I would, while yet I may,
Drink life's bitter cares away.
To the shady quires below,
Fain I would, while yet I may,
Drink life's bitter cares away.
| Select poems of Edward Hovel Thurlow | |