Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
X. On Dover Cliffs.
ON these white cliffs, that calm above the floodRear their o'er-shadowing heads, and at their feetScarce hear the surge that has for ages beat,Sure..
© William Lisle Bowles
Xiv. On A Distant View Of England.
AH! from my eyes the tears unbidden start,Albion! as now thy cliffs (that bright appearFar o'er the wave, and their proud summits rearTo meet the..
© William Lisle Bowles
Ii. Written At Bamborough Castle.
YE holy tow'rs, that crown the azure deep,Still may ye shade the wave-worn rock sublime,Though, hurrying silent by, relentless TimeAssail you, and..
© William Lisle Bowles
St. Michael's Mount
INSCRIBED TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD SOMERS.While summer airs scarce breathe along the tide,Oft pausing, up the mountain's craggy sideWe climb, how..
© William Lisle Bowles
Viii. To The River Itchin, Near Winton.
ITCHIN, when I behold thy banks again,Thy crumbling margin, and thy silver breast,On which the self-same tints still seem to rest,Why feels my heart..
© William Lisle Bowles
On Leaving A Place Of Residence
If I could bid thee, pleasant shade, farewellWithout a sigh, amidst whose circling bowersMy stripling prime was passed, and happiest hours,Dead were..
© William Lisle Bowles
Vii. At A Village In Scotland....
O NORTH! as thy romantic vales I leave,And bid farewell to each retiring hill,Where thoughtful fancy seems to linger still,Tracing the broad bright..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Missionary - Canto Eighth
The morn returns, and, reddening, seems to shedOne ray of glory on the patriot-dead.Round the dark stone, the victor-chiefs behold!Still on their..
© William Lisle Bowles
On William Sommers Of Bremhill
When will the grave shelter thy few gray hairs,O aged man! Thy sand is almost run,And many a year, in vain, to meet the sun,Thine eyes have rolled in..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Missionary - Canto Sixth
The second moon had now begun to wane,Since bold Valdivia left the southern plain;Goal of his labours, Penco's port and bay,Far gleaming to the..
© William Lisle Bowles
Vi. Evening, As Slow Thy Placid Shades Descend...
EVENING, as slow thy placid shades descend,Veiling with gentlest hush the landscape still,The lonely battlement, and farthest hillAnd wood; I think..
© William Lisle Bowles
Netley Abbey
Fallen pile! I ask not what has been thy fate;But when the winds, slow wafted from the main,Through each rent arch, like spirits that complain,Come..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Convent
If chance some pensive stranger, hither led,His bosom glowing from majestic views,Temple and tower 'mid the bright landscape's hues,Should ask who..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Missionary - Canto Fifth
'Tis dawn:--the distant Andes' rocky spires,One after one, have caught the orient fires.Where the dun condor shoots his upward flight,His wings are..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Battle Of The Nile
Shout! for the Lord hath triumphed gloriously!Upon the shores of that renowned land,Where erst His mighty arm and outstretched handHe lifted high,And..
© William Lisle Bowles
Southampton Water
Smooth went our boat upon the summer seas,Leaving, for so it seemed, the world behind,Its sounds of mingled uproar: we, reclinedUpon the sunny deck..
© William Lisle Bowles
Fairy Sketch
SCENE--NETLEY ABBEY.There was a morrice on the moonlight plain,And music echoed in the woody glade,For fay-like forms, as of Titania's train,Upon a..
© William Lisle Bowles
V. To The River Tweed.
O TWEED! a stranger, that with wand'ring feetO'er hill and dale has journey'd many a mile,(If so his weary thoughts he might beguile)Delighted turns..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Grave Of Howard
Spirit of Death! whose outstretched pennons dreadWave o'er the world beneath their shadow spread;Who darkly speedest on thy destined way,Midst..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Tweed Visited
O Tweed! a stranger, that with wandering feetO'er hill and dale has journeyed many a mile,(If so his weary thoughts he might beguile),Delighted turns..
© William Lisle Bowles
Sonnet: O Poverty! Though From Thy Haggard Eye
O, Poverty! though from thy haggard eye,Thy cheerless mien, of every charm bereft,Thy brow that Hope's last traces long have left,Vain Fortune's..
© William Lisle Bowles
Epitaph On H. Walmsley, Esq.,
IN ALVERSTOKE CHURCH, HANTS.Oh! they shall ne'er forget thee, they who knewThy soul benevolent, sincere, and true;The poor thy kindness cheered, thy..
© William Lisle Bowles
Distant View Of England From The Sea
Yes! from mine eyes the tears unbidden start,As thee, my country, and the long-lost sightOf thy own cliffs, that lift their summits whiteAbove the..
© William Lisle Bowles
To Sir Walter Scott
Since last I saw that countenance so mild,Slow-stealing age, and a faint line of care,Had gently touched, methought, some features there;Yet looked..
© William Lisle Bowles
To A Friend
Go, then, and join the murmuring city's throng!Me thou dost leave to solitude and tears;To busy phantasies, and boding fears,Lest ill betide thee;..
© William Lisle Bowles