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Full Online Book HomePoemsStanzas, Written Impromtu On The Late Peace
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Stanzas, Written Impromtu On The Late Peace Post by :software Category :Poems Author :Thomas Gent Date :September 2011 Read :2608

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Stanzas, Written Impromtu On The Late Peace

"Why, there's Peace, Jack, come damme let's push round the grog,
And awhile altogether in good humor jog,
For they say we shall soon go ashore;
Where the anchor of friendship may drift or be lost,
As on life's troubled ocean at random we're tost,
And, perhaps, we may never meet more."

Thus spoke Tom; while each messmate approvingly heard
That the contest was ended, their courage ne'er fear'd,
And soon Peace would restore them to love;
And the hearts by wrongs rous'd, that no fear could assuage,
At Humanity's shrine dropt the thunder of rage,
And the Lion resign'd to the Dove!

Heaven smil'd on the olive that Reason had rear'd,
With her rich pearly tribute sweet Pity appear'd,
And plac'd it on each brilliant eye;
'Twas the tear that Compassion had nurs'd in her breast,
To bestow on the friend, or the foe, if distress'd.
Like dew-drops distill'd from the sky!

Next on friends lost in battle they mournfully dwelt
'Twas a theme that together the heart and eye felt,
And a bumper to valor they gave;
While the liquor that flow'd in the bless'd circling bowl
Was enrich'd by a tribute that flow'd from the soul,
"A tear for the tomb of the brave!"

(The end)
Thomas Gent's poem: Stanzas, Written Impromtu On The Late Peace

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Lines, To The Memory Of A Lady Lines, To The Memory Of A Lady

Lines, To The Memory Of A Lady
Bring the sad cypress wreath to grace the tomb, Where rests the liberal friend of human kind,Around its base let deathless flow'rets bloom, Wet with the off'rings of the grateful mind.Firm was thy friendship, ardent, and sincere; Gen'rous thy soul, to ev'ry suff'rer prov'd:Rest, sainted shade! blest with the heart-felt tear, On earth lamented, and in heaven belov'd.Now will the widow weep that thou art gone, Who oft her unprotected babes hast fed:While tottering age shall heave the sigh forlorn, As slow they move to beg their bitter bread.Long shall the memory of thy worth

To A Bee (burlesque Sonnet) To A Bee (burlesque Sonnet)

To A Bee (burlesque Sonnet)
Sweet Insect! that on two small wings doth fly, And, flying, carry on those wings yourself;Methinks I see you, looking from your eye, As tho' you thought the world a wicked elf.Offspring of summer! brimstone is thy foe; And when it kills ye, soon you lose your breath:They rob your honey; but don't let you go, Thou harmless victim of ambitious death!How sweet is honey! coming from the Bee; Sweeter than sugar, in the lump or not:And, as we get this honey all from thee, Child of the hive! thou shalt not be forgot.So when