Lines To Fortune

Occasioned by a very amiable and generous Friend of mine munificently presenting Miss E.S. with a Donation of Fifteen Thousand Pounds.


Oh, Fortune! I have seen thee shed
A plenteous show'r of treasure down
On many a weak and worthless head,
On those who but deserv'd thy frown.

And I have heard, in lonely shade,
Her sorrows hapless Merit pour;
And thou hast pass'd the drooping maid,
To give some pamper'd fav'rite more.

But tho' so cold, or strangely wild,
It seems that worth can sometimes move;
Thou hast on gentle Emma smil'd,
And thou hast smil'd where all approve: -

For Nature form'd her gen'rous heart
With ev'ry virtue, pure, refin'd;
And wit and taste, and grace and art,
United to illume her mind.

So dew-drops fall on some rare flow'r,
That merits all their fost'ring care,
As tho' they knew that, by their pow'r,
Grateful 'twould wider scent the air.

John Carr

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John Carr

A Song. To The Moon.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

Lines Sent With Some Indian Rouge To Miss W ---- .

John Carr, Simple Poetry

Echo.

John Carr, Simple Poetry

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

John Carr, Simple Poetry

English

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Lines To An Accomplished Young Lady,

Whose Timidity frequently agitated her, when pressed to gratify her Friends by her Musical Talents.


'Tis said (and I believe it too)
That genuine merit seeks the shade;
Blushing to think what is her due,
As of her own sweet pow'rs afraid: -

Thus, lovely maid! on fluttering wings,
Thy pow'rs a thousand fears pursue,
Which, like thy own harmonious strings,
When press'd enchant, and tremble too!

The pity, which we give, you owe,
For mutual fears on both attend;
While anxious thus you joy bestow,
We fear too soon that joy will end!

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Lines To A Young Lady, Occasioned By Her Declining An Offer Of Marriage Made Her By A Very Accomplished Friend Of The Author.

Oh! form'd to prompt the smile or tear,
At once so sweet, yet so severe!
As much for you as him I grieve;
Ah! thoughtless! if you thus can leave
A mind with wit and learning bright,
Where Temper sheds its cloudless light;
Where manly honour, taste refin'd,
With ev'ry virtue, are combin'd;
If you can quit a heart so true,
Which has so often throbb'd for you,
I'll pity, tho' I can't reprove;
And did I, such is Florio's love,
Eager he'd fly to take thy part,
E'en in a war against his heart.

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Lines To Sir Robert Ker Porter, Knight Of The Imperial Order Of St. Joachim

Upon His Approaching Nuptials With The Princess Shebatoff.


To save the credit of the dame,
Poets and painters all agree
That Mistress Fortune cannot see,
And on her bandage cast the blame;

When honours on th' unworthy wait,
When riches to the wealthy flow,
When high desert, oppress'd by woe,
Is left to struggle on with Fate.

But, Porter! when on thee she smil'd,
The fillet from her eyes she mov'd,
To view the merit all approv'd -
A mind inform'd, a heart unsoil'd.

She saw thy virtues bright appear;
A son that mothers seldom know,
A brother with affection's glow,
The soldier brave^[A], the friend sincere.

With honours then thy name she grac'd,
And call'd on Love to bless thy arms
With princely ...

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Lines To Miss L ---- D ---- .

When Heav'n, sweet Laura! form'd thy mind,
With genius and with taste refin'd,
As if the union were too bright,
It spread the veil of diffidence,
That ev'ry ray, at first intense,
Might shine as soft as lunar light.

To frame a form then Nature strove,
And call'd on Beauty and on Love,
To lodge the mind they priz'd so well:
Completed was the fair design;
Thus blended dew-drops mildly shine
Within the lily's spotless bell!

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Occasional Lines Repeated At An Elegant Entertainment

Given By Lieutenant-Colonel D ----    To His Friends In The Ruins Of Berry Castle, Devonshire.^[A]


By your permission, Ladies! I address ye,
And for the boon you grant, my Muse shall bless ye.
I do not mean in solemn verse to tell
What fate the race of Pomeroy befell;
To trace the castle-story of each year,
To learn how many owls have hooted here;
What was the weight of stone, which form'd this pile,
Will on your lovely cheeks awake no smile:
Such antiquarian sermons suit not me,
Nor any soul who loves festivity.
Past times I heed not; be the present hour
In life, while yet it blooms, my chosen flow'r,
For well I know, what Time cannot disown,
Amidst this mossy pile of mould'ring stone,
That Hospitality was never seen
To spread more socia...

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