Posts tagged ‘1749’

Friday, 7 September 2018

For Lack of Gold by Adam Austin

For lack of gold she’s left me, O,
And of all that’s dear bereft me, O;
She me forsook for Athole’s duke,
And to endless woe she has left me, O.
A star and garter have more art
Than youth, a true and faithful heart;
For empty titles we must part,
And for glittering show she’s left me, O.

No cruel fair shall ever move
My injured heart again to love;
Through distant climates I must rove,
Since Jeanie she has left me, O.
Ye powers above, I to your care
Give up my faithless, lovely fair;
Your choicest blessings be her share,
Though she’s for ever left me, O!

From: Eyre-Todd, George (ed.), Scottish Poetry of the Eighteenth Century, Volume II, 1896, William Hodge & Co: Glasgow, p. 78.
(https://archive.org/details/scottishpoetryof02eyreuoft)

Date: 1749

By: Adam Austin (1726-1774)

Saturday, 16 January 2016

A Calvinistical Reflection by Susanna Hiller Highmore

Tho’ pure my hands, and free from guilty stains,
Tho’ undissolv’d each social tie remains;
Altho’ no husbund mourns his injur’d hed;
Nor pines with grief the violated maid:
Altho’ I pay each just return I owe,
And sympathetick feel another’s woe,
With liberal hand sustain the needy poor,
And age, and sickness, bless my op’ning door:
Tho’ each complaint, each bursting sigh I hear,
Melt for each want, and pity every tear:
Yet some dark tenet should I disbelieve,
Or dare to doubt what I can ne’er conceive;
Still hell’s broad path erroneous have I trod,
A foe to virtue, and a foe to God.

From: Highmore, Susanna, “A Calvinistical Reflection” in The Gentleman’s Magazine and Historical Chronicle, Volume XIX. For the Year M.DCC.XLIX, 1749, Edward Cave: London, p. 565.
(https://books.google.com.au/books?id=X2I3AAAAYAAJ)

Date: 1749

By: Susanna Hiller Highmore (1690-1750)

Friday, 4 September 2015

Amynta by Gilbert Elliot

My sheep I neglected, I broke my sheep-hook,
And all the gay haunts of my youth I forsook:
No more for Amynta fresh garlands I wove;
Ambition! said, would soon cure me of love.
But what had my youth with ambition to do?
Why left I Amynta? why broke I my vow?

Through regions remote in vain do I rove,
And hope the wide world will secure me from love.
Ah, fool to imagine that ought could subdue
A love so well founded, a passion so true!
Ah , give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook restore
And I’ll wander from love and Amynta no more!

Alas! ’tis too late at thy fate to repine!
Poor shepherd, Amynta no more can be thine!
Thy tears are all fruitless, thy wishes are vain!
The moments neglected return not again.
Ah! what had my youth with ambition to do?
Why left I Amynta? why broke I my vow?

From: Eusden, R. F., Specimens of English Verse, Selected Chiefly from Modern Poets: Preceded by Observations on English Versification, 1826, C. J. De Mat and H. Remy: Brussels, p. 142.
(https://books.google.com.au/books?id=Kx1cAAAAcAAJ)

Date: 1749

By: Gilbert Elliot (1722-1777)