File:The poetical works and remains of Henry Kirke White (1884) (14598108608).jpg

Identifier: poeticalworksrem02whit (find matches)
Title: The poetical works and remains of Henry Kirke White
Year: 1884 (1880s)
Authors: White, Henry Kirke, 1785-1806 Southey, Robert, 1774-1843
Subjects:
Publisher: New York, T.Y. Crowell & co
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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otence,And hails the ideal day of virtuous eminence. in. 2. Ah ! silly man, yet smarting sore,With ills which in the world he bore,Again on futile hope to rest.An unsubstantial prop at best,And not to know one swallow makes no summer! Ah ! soon hell find the brilliant gleam,Which flashed across the hemisphere,Illumining the darkness there, Was but a simple solitary beam,While all around remained in customed night. Still leaden ignorance reigns serene,In the false courts delusive height, And only one Carlisle is seen,To illume the heavy gloom with pure and steady light. DESCRIPTION OF A SUMMERS EVE. Down the sultry arc of day, The burning wheels have urged their way, And Eve along the western skies Sheds her intermingling dyes. Down the deep, the miry lane, Creeking comes the empty wain, And Driver on the shaft-horse sits, Whistling now and then by fits; And oft, with his accustomed call, Urging on the sluggish Ball. The barn is still, the masters gone, And Thresher puts his jacket on,
Text Appearing After Image:
^Jggg*-*1-:* DESCRIPTION OF A SUMMER EVENING. POEMS OF HENRY KIRKE WHITE. 325 While Dick, upon the ladder tall,Nails the dead kito to the wall.Here comes shepherd Jack at last,He has penned tho sheep-cote fast,For twas but two nights before,A lamb was eaten on the moor:His empty wallet Rover carries,Nor for Jack, when near home, tarries.With lolling tongue he runs to try,If the horse-trou gh be not dry,The milk is settled in the pans,And supper messes in the cans ;In the hovel carts are wheeled,And both the colts are drove a-field;The horses are all bedded up,And the ewe is with the tup.The snare for Mister Fox is set.The leaven laid, the thatching wet,And Bess has slinked away to talkWith Roger in the holly-walk. Now on the settle all, but Bess,Are set to eat their supper mess ;And little Tom, and roguish Kate,Are swinging on the meadow gate.Now they chat of various things,Of taxes, ministers, and kings,Or else tell all the village news,How madam did the squire refuse;How parson on h

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