Flirt and Phil

A wit, by learning well refined,
A beau, but of the rural kind,
To Sylvia made pretences;
They both profess'd an equal love,
Yet hoped by different means to move
Her judgement of her senses.

Young sprightly Flirt, of blooming mien,
Watch'd the best minutes to be seen,
Went - when his glass advised him;
While meagre Phil of brooks inquired,
A wight for wit and and parts admired
And witty ladies prized him.

Sylvia had wit, had spirits too;
To hear the one, the other view,
Suspended held the scales;
Her wit, her youth too, claim'd its share:
Let none the preference declare,
But turn up - heads or tails.

poem by William Shenstone
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Song VII. - When bright Roxana treads the green

When bright Roxana treads the green,
In all the pride of dress and mien,
Averse to freedom, love, and play,
The dazzling rival of the day;
None other beauty strikes mine eye,
The lilies droop, the roses die.

But when, disclaiming art, the fair
Assumes a soft engaging air;
Mild as the opening morn of May,
Familiar, friendly, free and gay,
The scene improves where'er she goes,
More sweetly smile the pink and rose.

O lovely Maid! propitious hear,
Nor deem thy shepherd insincere;
Pity a wild illusive flame,
That varies objects still the same;
And let their very changes prove
The never-varied force of love.

poem by William Shenstone
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Song VII. - When bright Roxana treads the green

When bright Roxana treads the green,
In all the pride of dress and mien,
Averse to freedom, love, and play,
The dazzling rival of the day;
None other beauty strikes mine eye,
The lilies droop, the roses die.

But when, disclaiming art, the fair
Assumes a soft engaging air;
Mild as the opening morn of May,
Familiar, friendly, free and gay,
The scene improves where'er she goes,
More sweetly smile the pink and rose.

O lovely Maid! propitious hear,
Nor deem thy shepherd insincere;
Pity a wild illusive flame,
That varies objects still the same;
And let their very changes prove
The never-varied force of love.

poem by William Shenstone
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Song XIX. - When bright Ophelia treads the green

When bright Ophelia treads the green,
In all the pride of dress and mien;
Averse to freedom, mirth and play,
The lofty rival of the day;
Methinks, to my enchanted eye,
The lilies droop, the roses die.

But when, disdaining art, the fair
Assumes a soft engaging air;
Mild as the opening morn of May,
And as the feather'd warblers gay;
The scene improves where'er she goes,
More sweetly smile the pink and rose.

O lovely maid! propitious hear,
Nor think thy Damon insincere.
Pity my wild delusive flame;
For though the flowers are still the same,
To me they languish, or improve,
And plainly tell me that I love.

poem by William Shenstone
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Written in a Flower Book, of my own Colouring, designed for Lady Plymouth

Debitae nymphis opifex coronae.-Hor.

Imitation.

Constructor of the tributary wreath
For rural maids.

Bring, Flora, bring thy treasures here,
The pride of all the blooming year;
And let me thence a garland frame,
To crown this fair, this peerless dame!
But, ah! since envious Winter lowers,
And Hewell meads resign their flowers,
Let Art and Friendship's joint essay
Diffuse their flowerets in her way.
Not Nature can, herself, prepare
A worthy wreath for Lesbia's hair,
Whose temper, like her forehead, smooth,
Whose thoughts and accents form'd to soothe,

[...] Read more

poem by William Shenstone
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Stanzas - To the Memory of an agreeable Lady, buried in marriage to a Person undeserving her

'Twas always held, and ever will,
By sage mankind, discreeter
To anticipate a lesser ill
Than undergo a greater.

When mortals dread disease, pain,
And languishing conditions,
Who don't the lesser ills sustain
Of physic-and physicians?

Rather than lose his whole estate,
He that but little wise is,
Full gladly pays four parts in eight,
To taxes and excises.

Our merchants Spain has near undone,
For lost ships not requiting;
This bears our noble King to shun
The loss of blood-in fighting!

[...] Read more

poem by William Shenstone
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Daphne's Visit

Ye birds! for whom I rear'd the grove,
With melting lay salute my love;
My Daphne with your notes detain,
Or I have rear'd my grove in vain.

Ye flowers! before her footsteps rise:
Display at once your brightest dyes;
That she your opening charms may see,
Or what are all your charms to me?

Kind Zephyr! brush each fragrant flower,
And shed its odours round my bower;
Or never more, O gentle Wind!
Shall I from thee refreshment find.

Ye Streams! if e'er your banks I loved,
If e'er your native sounds improved,
May each soft murmur soothe my fair,
Or oh! 'twill deepen my despair.

[...] Read more

poem by William Shenstone
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Song

I told my nymph, I told her true,
My fields were small, my flocks were few,
While faltering accents spoke my fear,
That Flavia might not prove sincere.

Of crops destroyed by vernal cold,
And vagrant sheep that left my fold;
Of these she heard, yet bore to hear;
And is not Flavia then sincere?

How, chang'd by fortune's fickle wind,
The friends I loved became unkind;
She heard, and shed a generous tear;
And is not Flavia then sincere?

How, if she deign'd my love to bless,
My Flavia must not hope for fress;
This, too, she heard, and smiled to hear;
And Flavia, sure, must be sincere.

[...] Read more

poem by William Shenstone
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Written at an Inn at Henley

To thee, fair Freedom! I retire,
From flattery, cards, and dice, and din;
Nor art thou found in mansions higher
Than the low cot, or humble inn.

'Tis here with boundless power I reign,
And every health which I begin,
Converts dull port to bright champagne;
Such Freedom crowns it, at an inn.

I fly from pomp, I fly from plate,
I fly from Falsehood's specious grin;
Freedom I love, and form I hate,
And choose my lodgings, at an inn.

Here, waiter! take my sordid ore,
Which lackeys else might hope to win;
It buys what courts have not in store,
It buys me Freedom, at an inn.

[...] Read more

poem by William Shenstone
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Halcyon

Why o'er the verdant banks of Ouse
Does yonder Halcyon speed so fast?
'Tis all because she would not lose
Her favourite calm, that will not last.

The sun with azure paints the skies,
The stream reflects each flowery spray,
And, frugal of her time, she flies
To take her fill of love and play!

See her, when rugged Boreas blows,
Warm in some rocky cell remain;
To seek for pleasure, well she knows,
Would only then enhance the pain.

'Descend,' she cries, 'thou hated shower,
Deform my limpid waves to-day,
For I have chose a fairer hour
To take my fill of love and play!'

[...] Read more

poem by William Shenstone
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!