Faringdon Hill. Book II (Henry James Pye Poems)
The sultry hours are past, and Phobus nowSpreads yellower rays along the mountain's brow:The broken clouds unnumber'd tints display,Drinking the ...
Henry James Pye Poems on Power (12 Poems)
Faringdon Hill. Book I (Henry James Pye Poems)
A Poem In Two BooksNow with meridian force the orb of dayPours on our throbbing heads his sultry ray;O'er the ...
The Parsonage Improved (Henry James Pye Poems)
Where gentle Deva's lucid waters glide In slow meanders thro' the winding vale, And fertile Cestria's pastures green divide; Deep in the bosom ...
The Art Of War. Book I. (Henry James Pye Poems)
TO THE HONORABLE WILLIAM KEPPEL, LIEUTENANT-GENERAL OF HIS MAJESTY'S FORCES, THIS POEM, TRANSLATED BY AN OFFICER AT HIS LEISURE HOURS, ...
On The Wreck Of The Halsewell (Henry James Pye Poems)
A FRAGMENT. Now the loud winds with angry pinions sweep The laboring bosom of the stormy deep, The face of day o'erspread by ...
Ode To Beauty (Henry James Pye Poems)
I. Enchanting power! whose influence blest O'er Nature reigns with pleasing sway, Whose mild command each gentler breast Enraptur'd glories to obey: O give my ...
Elegy I (Henry James Pye Poems)
O Happiness! thou wish of every mind, Whose form, more subtle than the fleeting air, Leaves all thy votaries wandering far behind, Eludes ...
Elegy III (Henry James Pye Poems)
The dewy morn her saffron mantle spreads High o'er the brow of yonder eastern hill; Each blooming shrub a roseate fragrance sheds, And ...
Elegy V (Henry James Pye Poems)
Thee, sad Melpomene, I once again Invoke, nor ask the idly plaintive verse: Quit the light reed for sorrow's sober strain, And hang ...
Elegy VII (Henry James Pye Poems)
ADDRESSED TO A PINE-TREE. The ruffian North has spent his savage power, Collects his winds, and quits the mountain's side; And Auster mild, ...
The Vine (Henry James Pye Poems)
Like clustering tents upon the embattled mead, See Vitis thick her small pavilions spread. Beneath each silken veil, with studious care Five amorous ...
Song: “The flowers of the Spring that enamel the vale” (Henry James Pye Poems)
The flowers of the Spring that enamel the vale, Give their dyes to the meadows, their sweets to the gale, From the ...