English poem
ON MOZART.
Oh! still, as with a seraph's voice, prolong The harmonies of that enchanting song, Till, listening, we might almost think we hear, Beyond this cloudy world, in the pure sphere Of light, acclaiming hosts the throne surrounding, The long hosannahs evermore resounding, Soft voices interposed in pure accord, Breathing a holier charm. Oh! every word Falls like a drop of silver, as the strain, In winding sweetness, swells and sinks again. Sing ever thus, beguiling life's long way, As here, poor pilgrims of the earth, we stray; And, lady, when thy pilgrimage shall end, And late the shades of the long night descend, May sister seraphs welcome with a song, And gently say, Why have you stayed so long?
More by William Lisle Bowles
- On Leaving Winchester School
- ON MEETING SOME FRIENDS OF YOUTH AT CHELTENHAM,
- On Meeting Some Friends Of Youth At Cheltenham, For The First Time Since We Parted At Oxford.
- On Miss Fitzgerald And Lord Kerry Planting Two Cedars In The Churchyard Of Bremhill.
- On Mr Howard's Account Of Lazarettos
- On Resigning A Scholarship Of Trinity College, Oxford, And Retiring To A Country Curacy.
- On Seeing Plants In The Windows Of Seth Ward's College, Endowed For Widows Of Clergymen, At Salisbury.
- On The Death Of Dr Burgess, The Late Bishop Of Salisbury.