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").
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
On The Death Of Rev. William Benwell, M.A.
Thou camest with kind looks, when on the brinkAlmost of death I strove, and with mild voiceDidst soothe me, bidding my poor heart rejoice,Though..
© William Lisle Bowles
On Mr. Howard's Account Of Lazarettos
Mortal! who, armed with holy fortitude,The path of good right onward hast pursued;May HE, to whose eternal throne on highThe sufferers of the earth..
© William Lisle Bowles
On Entering Switzerland
Languid, and sad, and slow, from day to dayI journey on, yet pensive turn to view(Where the rich landscape gleams with softer hue)The streams and..
© William Lisle Bowles
Sonnet: At Dover Cliffs, July 20th 1787
On these white cliffs, that calm above the floodUplift their shadowing heads, and, at their feet,Scarce hear the surge that has for ages beat,Sure..
© William Lisle Bowles
In Memoriam
How blessed with thee the path could I have trodOf quiet life, above cold want's hard fate,(And little wishing more) nor of the greatEnvious, or..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Right Honourable Edmund Burke
Why mourns the ingenuous Moralist, whose mindScience has stored, and Piety refined,That fading Chivalry displays no moreHer pomp and stately..
© William Lisle Bowles
Translation Of A Latin Poem
BY THE REV. NEWTON OGLE, DEAN OF MANCHESTER.Oh thou, that prattling on thy pebbled wayThrough my paternal vale dost stray,Working thy shallow passage..
© William Lisle Bowles
The Winds
When dark November bade the leaves adieu,And the gale sung amid the sea-boy's shrouds,Methought I saw four winged forms, that flew,With garments..
© William Lisle Bowles
Xiii. O Time! Who Know'st A Lenient Hand To Lay...
O TIME! who know'st a lenient hand to laySoftest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence,(Lulling to sad repose the weary sense)Stealest the..
© William Lisle Bowles
Bamborough Castle
Ye holy Towers that shade the wave-worn steep,Long may ye rear your aged brows sublime,Though, hurrying silent by, relentless TimeAssail you, and the..
© William Lisle Bowles
A Garden-Seat At Home
Oh, no; I would not leave thee, my sweet home,Decked with the mantling woodbine and the rose,And slender woods that the still scene inclose,For yon..
© William Lisle Bowles
On Accidentally Meeting A Lady Now No More
When last we parted, thou wert young and fair--How beautiful let fond remembrance say!Alas! since then old Time has stol'n awayNigh forty years..
© William Lisle Bowles
Death Of Captain Cooke,
OF 'THE BELLEROPHON,' KILLED IN THE SAME BATTLE.When anxious Spain, along her rocky shore,From cliff to cliff returned the sea-fight's roar;When..
© William Lisle Bowles
A Cenotaph,
Oh, hadst thou fall'n, brave youth! on that proud day,When our victorious fleet o'er the red surgeRolled in terrific glory, thou hadst fall'nMost..
© William Lisle Bowles
Bereavement
Whose was that gentle voice, that, whispering sweet,Promised methought long days of bliss sincere!Soothing it stole on my deluded ear,Most like soft..
© William Lisle Bowles
At Oxford
Bereave me not of Fancy's shadowy dreams,Which won my heart, or when the gay careerOf life begun, or when at times a tearSat sad on memory's..
© William Lisle Bowles
Elegy Written At Hotwells, Bristol
INSCRIBED TO THE REV. W. HOWLEY.The morning wakes in shadowy mantle gray,The darksome woods their glimmering skirts unfold,Prone from the cliff the..
© William Lisle Bowles
Cadland, Southampton River
If ever sea-maid, from her coral cave,Beneath the hum of the great surge, has lovedTo pass delighted from her green abode,And, seated on a summer..
© William Lisle Bowles
At Malvern
I shall behold far off thy towering crest,Proud mountain! from thy heights as slow I strayDown through the distant vale my homeward way,I shall..
© William Lisle Bowles
Dover Cliffs
On these white cliffs, that calm above the floodUprear their shadowing heads, and at their feetHear not the surge that has for ages beat,How many a..
© William Lisle Bowles
Age
Age, thou the loss of health and friends shalt mourn!But thou art passing to that night-still bourne,Where labour sleeps. The linnet, chattering..
© William Lisle Bowles
At Tynemouth Priory
AFTER A TEMPESTUOUS VOYAGE.As slow I climb the cliff's ascending side,Much musing on the track of terror past,When o'er the dark wave rode the..
© William Lisle Bowles
Avenue In Savernake Forest
How soothing sound the gentle airs that moveThe innumerable leaves, high overhead,When autumn first, from the long avenue,That lifts its arching..
© William Lisle Bowles
Abba Thule's Lament For His Son Prince Le Boo
I climb the highest cliff; I hear the soundOf dashing waves; I gaze intent around;I mark the gray cope, and the hollownessOf heaven, and the great..
© William Lisle Bowles