Lines Occasioned By The Death Of Lieutenant J ---- , Who Was Killed By A Pistol-Shot, Accidentally Discharged By His Friend, Captain B ---- .

With horror dumb, tho' guiltless, stood
Beside his dying friend,
The hapless wretch who made the blood
Sad from his side descend!

"Give me thy hand; lov'd friend, adieu!"
The gen'rous suff'rer cried!
"I do forgive and bless thee too;"
And, having said it, died!

And Pity, who stood trembling near
Knew not for which to shed,
So claim'd by both, her saddest tear -
The living or the dead!

John Carr

No biography available

John Carr

In Devonshire.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

Lines Upon The Rev. Mr. C ---- 's Impromptu Compositions Of Some Of Bowles's Sonnets.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

Lines To Her Royal Highness The Princess Elizabeth, Upon The Prints From Her Beautiful Drawings Of The Birth And Triumph Of Cupid.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

Lines Written In A Hermitage, At Dronningaard, Near Copenhagen.

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.

Lines Upon A Lady Dying Soon After She Had Been Wrecked On The Cornish Coast, Leaving A Little Infant Behind Her.

Sweet stranger! tho' the merc'less storm
Here sternly cast thy fainting form,
What tho' no kindred hand was near
To wipe away Affliction's tear,

Yet shall thy gentle spirit own,
Amidst these sea-girt shores unknown,
That Pity pour'd her balmy store,
And kindred hands could do no more.

Ne'er shall that pang disturb thy rest,
That moves the parted mother's breast;
The object of thy dying fear
Shall want no father's fondness here.

Oft shall his little lips proclaim,
With April-tears, thy treasur'd name;
His little hands, when summers bloom,
Shall gather flow'rs to deck thy tomb.

John Carr

Lines To The Memory Of Mrs. A.H. Holdsworth, Late Of Mount Galpin, Devonshire.

Tyrant of all our loves and friendships here,
Behold thy beauteous victim! - Ah! tis thine
To rend fond hearts, and start the tend'rest tear
Where joy should long in cloudless radiance shine.

Alas! the mourning Muse in vain would paint,
Blest shade! how purely pass'd thy life away,
Or, with the meekness of a favour'd saint,
How rose thy spirit to the realms of day.

'Twas thine to fill each part that gladdens life,
Such as approving angels smile upon; -
The faultless daughter, parent, friend, and wife, -
Virtues short-lived! they set just as they shone.

Thus, in the bosom of some winding grove,
Where oft the pensive melodist retires,
From his sweet instrument, the note of love,
Charms the rapt ear, but, as it charms, expires.

Farewell, p...

John Carr

Lines Upon The Death Of The Lady Of Lieutenant-Colonel Adams, Who Lately Died Of A Decline In The East Indies.

When Time a mellowing tint has thrown
O'er many a scene to mem'ry dear.
It scatters round a charm, unknown
When first th' impression rested there.

But, oh! should distance intervene,
Should Ocean's wave, should changeful clime.
Divide - how sweeter far the scene!
How richer ev'ry tint of time!

E'en thus with those (a treasur'd few)
Who gladden'd life with many a smile,
Tho' long has pass'd the sad adieu,
In thought we love to dwell awhile.

Then with keen eye, and beating heart,
The anxious mind still seeks relief
From those who can the tale impart,
How pass their day, in joy or grief.

If haply health and fortune bless,
We feel as if on us they shone;
If sickness and if sorrow press,
Then feeling makes their woes our own.<...

John Carr

Epitaph On A Friend.

By painful sickness long severely prest,
Here sinks, on Nature's sacred lap of rest,
A friend, who, in a life too short, display'd
A mind in virtue bright, without one shade.
Hence with unusual grief is Fondness mov'd,
Hence more than Pity's sighs for one belov'd;
Unshaken Honour sheds a manly tear,
And weeping Virtue stops, a mourner here.

John Carr

Lines To The Memory Of Mrs. B ----

Ah, stranger! if thy pilgrim footsteps love,
By meditation led, to wander here,
A suff'ring husband may thy pity move,
Who weeps the loss of all his soul holds dear!

Cold as this mourning marble is that heart,
Which Virtue warm'd with pure and gen'rous heat,
Which to each checquer'd scene could joy impart,
Nor ceas'd to love until it ceas'd to beat.

Yet, gentle spirit! o'er thine early grave
Shall Consolation, like a seraph, prove,
When Sickness clos'd thy faultless life, she gave
Another angel to the realms above!

John Carr

Sonnet, Occasioned By Reading An Inscription On The Tombstone Of Captain Christensen, Of Krajore, In Norway, Who Died In Consequence Of The Bite Of His Dog, When It Was Mad.

Ah! hapless stranger! who, without a tear,
Can this sad record of thy fate survey?
No angry tempest laid thee breathless here,
Nor hostile sword, nor Nature's mild decay.

The fond companion of thy pilgrim feet,
Who watch'd thee in thy sleep, who moan'd if miss'd,
And sprung with such delight his Lord to greet,
Imbu'd with death the hand he oft had kiss'd.

And here, remov'd from Love's lamenting eye,
Far from thy native cat'racts' awful sound,
Far from thy dusky forests' pensive sigh,
Thy poor remains repose on alien ground;
Yet Pity oft shall sit beside thy stone,
And sigh as tho' she mourn'd a brother gone.

John Carr