William Lisle Bowles

(1762 - 1850 / England)

William Lisle Bowles Poems

41. In Age 1/1/2004
42. Monody On The Death Of Dr. Warton 4/16/2010
43. Inscription 4/16/2010
44. Xi. Written At Ostend 1/1/2004
45. Sonnet: July 18th 1787 1/13/2003
46. The River Wainsbeck 4/16/2010
47. The Spirit Of Navigation 4/16/2010
48. Southampton Castle 4/16/2010
49. Sonnet Ii. Written At Bamborough Castle. 4/16/2010
50. Sonnet Iii. O Thou, Whose Stern Command And Precepts Pure... 4/16/2010
51. Stanzas For Music 4/16/2010
52. Summer Evening At Home 4/16/2010
53. Sun-Dial, In The Churchyard Of Bremhill 4/16/2010
54. Picture Of A Young Lady 4/16/2010
55. Sketch From Bowden Hill After Sickness 4/16/2010
56. On The Busts Of Milton, In Youth And Age, At Stourhead 4/16/2010
57. On An Unfortunate And Beautiful Woman 4/16/2010
58. The Missionary - Canto First 4/16/2010
59. The River Cherwell 4/16/2010
60. Wardour Castle 4/16/2010
61. Oxford Revisited 4/16/2010
62. The Bells Of Ostend 4/16/2010
63. Sonnet V. To The River Tweed. 4/16/2010
64. Sonnet Vi. Evening, As Slow Thy Placid Shades Descend... 4/16/2010
65. Song Of The American Indian 4/16/2010
66. On The Funeral Of Charles The First 1/1/2004
67. Greenwich Hospital 4/16/2010
68. Hope 4/16/2010
69. Evening 4/16/2010
70. Xiv. On A Distant View Of England. 1/1/2004
71. Ii. Written At Bamborough Castle. 1/1/2004
72. X. On Dover Cliffs. 1/1/2004
73. Sonnet: At Ostend, July 22nd 1787 1/13/2003
74. St. Michael's Mount 4/16/2010
75. Viii. To The River Itchin, Near Winton. 4/16/2010
76. On Leaving A Place Of Residence 4/16/2010
77. Vii. At A Village In Scotland.... 1/1/2004
78. The Missionary - Canto Eighth 4/16/2010
79. The Missionary - Canto Sixth 4/16/2010
80. On William Sommers Of Bremhill 4/16/2010
Best Poem of William Lisle Bowles

At Dover

Thou, whose stern spirit loves the storm,
That, borne on Terror's desolating wings,
Shakes the high forest, or remorseless flings
The shivered surge; when rising griefs deform
Thy peaceful breast, hie to yon steep, and think,--
When thou dost mark the melancholy tide
Beneath thee, and the storm careering wide,--
Tossed on the surge of life how many sink!
And if thy cheek with one kind tear be wet,
And if thy heart be smitten, when the cry
Of danger and of death is heard more nigh,
Oh, learn thy private sorrows to forget;
Intent, when hardest beats the storm,...

Read the full of At Dover

On Hearing

O stay, harmonious and sweet sounds, that die
In the long vaultings of this ancient fane!
Stay, for I may not hear on earth again
Those pious airs--that glorious harmony;
Lifting the soul to brighter orbs on high,
Worlds without sin or sorrow! Ah, the strain
Has died--even the last sounds that lingeringly
Hung on the roof ere they expired!
And I

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