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William Lisle Bowles Poems

A collection of select William Lisle Bowles famous poems that were written by William Lisle Bowles or written about the poet by other famous poets. PoetrySoup is a comprehensive educational resource of the greatest poems and poets on history.

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by Bowles, William Lisle
 Whose was that gentle voice, that, whispering sweet,
Promised methought long days of bliss sincere!
Soothing it stole on my deluded ear,
Most like soft music, that might sometimes cheat
Thoughts dark and drooping! 'Twas the voice of Hope.
Of love and social scenes, it seemed to speak,
Of truth, of friendship, of affection meek;
That, oh! poor friend, might to life's downward slope
Lead us in...Read More



by Bowles, William Lisle
 AS slow I climb the cliff's ascending side, 
Much musing on the track of terror past 
When o'er the dark wave rode the howling blast 
Pleas'd I look back, and view the tranquil tide, 
That laves the pebbled shore; and now the beam 
Of evening smiles on the grey battlement, 
And yon forsaken tow'r, that time has rent. 
The...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 YE holy tow'rs, that crown the azure deep, 
Still may ye shade the wave-worn rock sublime, 
Though, hurrying silent by, relentless Time 
Assail you, and the winter Whirlwind's sweep! 
For far from blazing Grandeur's crowded halls, 
Here Charity hath fix'd her chosen seat, 
Oft listening tearful when the wild winds beat, 
With hollow bodings, round your ancient walls; 
And...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 O THOU, whose stern command and precepts pure 
(Tho' agony in every vein should start, 
And slowly drain the blood-drops from the heart) 
Have bade the patient spirit still endure; 
Thou, who to sorrow hast a beauty lent, 
On the dark brow, with resolution clad, 
Illumining the dreary traces sad, 
Like the cold taper on a monument; 
O firm...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 And art thou he, now "fallen on evil days," 
And changed indeed! Yet what do this sunk cheek, 
These thinner locks, and that calm forehead speak! 
A spirit reckless of man's blame or praise,-- 
A spirit, when thine eyes to the noon's blaze 
Their dark orbs roll in vain, in suffering meek, 
As in the sight of God intent...Read More



by Bowles, William Lisle
 Milton, our noblest poet, in the grace 
Of youth, in those fair eyes and clustering hair, 
That brow untouched by one faint line of care, 
To mar its openness, we seem to trace 
The front of the first lord of the human race, 
Mid thine own Paradise portrayed so fair, 
Ere Sin or Sorrow scathed it: such the air...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 O POVERTY! though from thy haggard eye, 
Thy cheerless mein, of every charm bereft, 
Thy brow, that hope's last traces long have left, 
Vain Fortune's feeble sons with terror fly; 
Thy rugged paths with pleasure I attend; -- 
For Fancy, that with fairest dreams can bless; 
And Patience, in the Pall of Wretchedness, 
Sad-smiling, as the ruthless storms descend;...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 Languid, and sad, and slow, from day to day 
I journey on, yet pensive turn to view 
(Where the rich landscape gleams with softer hue) 
The streams and vales, and hills, that steal away. 
So fares it with the children of the earth: 
For when life's goodly prospect opens round, 
Their spirits beat to tread that fairy ground, 
Where...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 Beautiful landscape! I could look on thee 
For hours,--unmindful of the storm and strife, 
And mingled murmurs of tumultuous life. 
Here, all is still as fair--the stream, the tree, 
The wood, the sunshine on the bank: no tear 
No thought of time's swift wing, or closing night 
Which comes to steal away the long sweet light, 
No sighs of...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 On these white cliffs, that calm above the flood
Uplift their shadowing heads, and, at their feet,
Scarce hear the surge that has for ages beat,
Sure many a lonely wanderer has stood;
And whilst the lifted murmur met his ear,
And o'er the distant billows the still eve
Sailed slow, has thought of all his heart must leave
Tomorrow; of the friends he loved most...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 Languid, and sad, and slow, from day to day
I journey on, yet pensive turn to view
(Where the rich landscape gleams with softer hue)
The streams and vales, and hills, that steal away.
So fares it with the children of the earth:
For when life's goodly prospect opens round,
Their spirits beat to tread that fairy ground,
Where every vale sounds to the pipe of...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 O, Poverty! though from thy haggard eye,
Thy cheerless mien, of every charm bereft,
Thy brow that Hope's last traces long have left,
Vain Fortune's feeble sons with terror fly;
I love thy solitary haunts to seek.
For Pity, reckless of her own distress;
And Patience, in her pall of wretchedness,
That turns to the bleak storm her faded cheek;
And Piety, that never told her wrong;
And...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 O TIME! who know'st a lenient hand to lay 
Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence 
(Lulling to sad repose the weary sense) 
The faint pang stealest unperceived away; 
On thee I rest my only hope at last, 
And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear 
That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear, 
I may...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 Go, then, and join the murmuring city's throng! 
Me thou dost leave to solitude and tears; 
To busy phantasies, and boding fears, 
Lest ill betide thee; but 't will not be long 
Ere the hard season shall be past; till then 
Live happy; sometimes the forsaken shade 
Remembering, and these trees now left to fade; 
Nor, mid the busy...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 O TWEED! a stranger, that with wand'ring feet 
O'er hill and dale has journey'd many a mile, 
(If so his weary thoughts he might beguile) 
Delighted turns thy beauteous scenes to greet. 
The waving branches that romantick bend 
O'er thy tall banks, a soothing charm bestow; 
The murmurs of thy wand'ring wave below 
Seem to his ear the pity...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 EVENING, as slow thy placid shades descend, 
Veiling with gentlest hush the landscape still, 
The lonely battlement, and farthest hill 
And wood; I think of those that have no friend; 
Who now perhaps, by melancholy led, 
From the broad blaze of day, where pleasure flaunts, 
Retiring, wander 'mid thy lonely haunts 
Unseen; and mark the tints that o'er thy...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 O NORTH! as thy romantic vales I leave, 
And bid farewell to each retiring hill, 
Where thoughtful fancy seems to linger still, 
Tracing the broad bright landscape; much I grieve 
That mingled with the toiling croud, no more 
I shall return, your varied views to mark, 
Of rocks winding wild, and mountains hoar, 
Or castle gleaming on the distant...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 ON these white cliffs, that calm above the flood 
Rear their o'er-shadowing heads, and at their feet 
Scarce hear the surge that has for ages beat, 
Sure many a lonely wanderer has stood; 
And, whilst the lifted murmur met his ear, 
And o'er the distant billows the still Eve 
Sail'd slow, has thought of all his heart must leave...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 HOW sweet the tuneful bells' responsive peal! 
As when, at opening morn, the fragrant breeze 
Breathes on the trembling sense of wan disease, 
So piercing to my heart their force I feel! 
And hark! with lessening cadence now they fall, 
And now, along the white and level tide, 
They fling their melancholy music wide, 
Bidding me many a tender...Read More

by Bowles, William Lisle
 O TIME! who know'st a lenient hand to lay 
Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence, 
(Lulling to sad repose the weary sense) 
Stealest the long-forgotten pang away; 
On Thee I rest my only hope at last, 
And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear 
That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear, 
I may look...Read More