Poems by William Lisle Bowles
The Sylph Of Summer
... The murderous chain, that, link by link, dropped blood, ...
Inscription
... From pale Detraction's envious spite, ...
Translation Of A Latin Poem
... Whether the pebbles that thy margin strew, ...
On Landing At Ostend
... Speaks of the hour that stays not--and the day ...
On Leaving A Village In Scotland
... To soothe me with fair scenes, and fancies rude, ...
Stanzas For Music
... It grieves me most, that parting thus,&emsp ...
Death Of Captain Cooke,
... The brook, the church, those chestnuts darkly-green, ...
Retrospection
... That still shall warm us, when the tints decline ...
To Sir Walter Scott
... ON ACCIDENTLY MEETING AND PARTING WITH SIR WALTER SCOTT, WHOM I HAD NOT ...
Picture Of A Young Lady
... For at thy footstep light, the gloom was cheered,-- ...
On Entering Switzerland
... The streams and vales, and hills, that steal away ...
Monody On Henry Headley
... To mourn the hours of youth, yet mourn in vain,&emsp ...
In Horto Rev. J. Still,
... In spring-time, whilst the bee hums heedless nigh, ...
The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The Second
... Whilst the long-mingled shout is heard--They fly, they fly! ...
The Missionary - Canto First
... Seven snows had fallen, and seven green summers passed, ...
