A Song.

These shades were made for Love alone, -
Here only smiles and kisses sweet
Shall play around his flow'ry throne,
And doves shall sentinel the seat.

Come, Delia! 'tis a genial day;
It bids us to his bow'r repair: -
"But what will little Cupid say?" -
"Say! sweet? - why, give a welcome there."

There not a tell-tale beam shall peep
Upon thy beauty's rich display, -
There not a breeze shall dare to sweep
The leaves, to whisper what we say.

John Carr

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John Carr

Lines Written En Badinage, After Visiting A Paper-Mill Near Tunbridge-Wells, In Consequence Of The Lovely Miss W ---- , Who Excels In Drawing, Requesting The Author To Describe The Process Of Making Paper, In Verse.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

The Mushroom.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

Yarrimore.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

To Miss Atkinson, On The Extreme Diffidence Which She Displays To Strangers.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Sonnet.

The leaves are flutter'd by no tell-tale gales,
Clear melts the azure in the rosy west,
Scarce heard, the river winds along the vales,
And Eve has lull'd the vocal grove to rest.

To yon thick elms, my Delia! let us rove,
As slow the glories of the day retire;
There to thy lute breathe dulcet notes of love,
While thro' the vale they linger and expire.

Those honey'd tones, that melt upon the tongue, -
Thy looks, serener than the scenes I sing, -
Thy chaste desires, which angels might have sung,
Alone can quiet in this bosom bring,
Which burns for thee, and, kindled by thine eyes,
Bears a pure flame - the flame that never dies!

John Carr

Song.

Wilt thou, because thy Florio loves,
Forsake the giddy glitt'ring throng,
With him to dwell in peaceful groves,
With him to hear the shepherd's song?

Can'st thou, without a sigh, resign
The homage by thy charms inspir'd?
To one, oh! say, can'st thou confine
What oft so many have admir'd?

Sweet maid! oh! bless'd shall be our love,
Till time shall bid it cease to flow;
With thee shall ev'ry moment prove
A little heaven form'd below!

John Carr

Lines[A] Written In A Beautiful Spot, The Favourite Retreat Of Delia.

Streams ever limpid, fresh, and clear,
Where Delia's charms renew'd appear,
Ye flow'rs that touch'd her snowy breast,
Ye trees whereon she lov'd to rest,
Ye scenes adorn'd where'er she flies,
If grief shall close these woe-worn eyes,
May some kind form, with hand benign,
My body with this earth enshrine,
That, when the fairest nymph shall deign
To visit this delightful plain,
That, when she views my silent shade,
And marks the change her love has made,
The tear may tremble down her face,
As show'rs the lily's leaves embrace;
Then, like the infant at the breast,
That feels a sorrow unexprest,
That pang shall gentle Delia know,
And silent treasure up her woe.

John Carr

Lines To Delia, On Her Wearing A Muslin Veil.

Say, Delia, why, in muslin shade,
Ah! say, dost thou conceal those eyes?
Such little stars were never made,
I'm sure, to shine thro' misty skies.

Say, are they wrapt in so much shade,
That they may more successful rise,
Starting from such soft ambuscade,
To catch and kill us by surprise?

Or, of their various pow'rs afraid,
Is it in mercy to our sighs,
Lest love, o'er many a heart betray'd,
Should sob "a faithful vot'ry dies"?

Then, oh! remove the envious shade;
Let others wear, who want, disguise:
We all had sooner die, sweet maid,
To see, than live without, those eyes.

John Carr

A Song. To The Moon.

Thou, lamp! the gods benignly gave,
To light a lover on his way;
Thou, Moon! along the silv'ry wave,
Ah! safe this flutt'ring heart convey: -

Sweet is thy light, and sweet thy shade,
The guide and guardian of our bliss,
A lover's panting lips to lead,
Or veil him in the ravish'd kiss.

Her white robe floats upon the air;
My Lyra hears the dashing oar:
Ye floods, oh! speed me to my fair!
My soul is with her long before.

Oh! lightly haste, thy lover view,
And ev'ry anxious fear resign;
Ye tow'rs, no longer fear'd, adieu!
The treasure which ye held is mine!

John Carr

A Roundelay.

Wide thro' the azure blue and bright
Serenely floats the lamp of night;
The sleeping waves forget to move,
And silent is the cedar grove;
Each breeze suspended seems to say -
"Now, Leline, for thy Roundelay!"

My Delia's lids are clos'd in rest;
Ah! were her pillow but my breast!
Go, dreams! one gentle word impart,
In whispers place me by her heart;
While near her door I'll fondly stray,
And sooth her with my Roundelay.

But, ah! the Night draws in her shade,
And glimm'ring stars reluctant fade:
Yet sleep, my love! nor may'st thou feel
The pangs which griefs like mine reveal:
Adieu! for Morning's on his way,
And bids me close my Roundelay.

John Carr