Amelia Opie

(12 November 1769 – 2 December 1853 / Norwich)

Amelia Opie Poems

1. Sonnet On The Approach Of Autumn 4/21/2010
2. While Many A Fond And Blooming Maid 4/21/2010
3. To A Maniac 1/3/2003
4. To Lorenzo 1/3/2003
5. To Lothario 1/3/2003
6. The Orphan Boy's Tale 4/21/2010
7. To Henry 1/3/2003
8. The Origin Of The Sail 1/3/2003
9. Yes, Mary Ann 1/3/2003
10. Song. To A Russian Air 4/21/2010
11. Song. While Many A Fond 4/21/2010
12. Song. Yes ....Though We'Ve Loved So Long 4/21/2010
13. Stanzas To Cynthio 1/3/2003
14. The Mad Wanderer 1/3/2003
15. Song. Where Dost Thou Bide 4/21/2010
16. To Henry, Written To A Russian Air 1/3/2003
17. To Anna 1/3/2003
18. Songs Written To Welsh Airs 1/3/2003
19. To Laura 1/3/2003
20. Yes, Thou Art Changed Since First We Met 4/21/2010
21. Lines Written At Norwich On The First News Of Peace 4/21/2010
22. The Moon And The Comet 1/3/2003
23. You Ask Why These Mountains 4/21/2010
24. Song Written To A Hindoo Air 1/3/2003
25. The Lucayan's Song 1/3/2003
26. The Warrior's Return 1/3/2003
27. Ode On The Present Times, 27th January 1795 4/21/2010
28. Song: Yes, Mary Ann, I Freely Grant 12/31/2002
29. Lines On The Place De La Concorde At Paris, 4/21/2010
30. Song. Low Hung The Dark Clouds 4/21/2010
31. Lines On The Opening Of A Spring Campaign 1/3/2003
32. Song. 4/21/2010
33. On The Place De La Concorde 1/3/2003
34. Julia, Or The Convent Of St. Claire 1/3/2003
35. Ode, Written On The Opening Of The Last Campaign 4/21/2010
36. Ode To Borrowdale 12/31/2002
37. On The Approach Of Autumn 1/3/2003
38. Ballad 1/3/2003
39. Lines Written In 1799. 12/31/2002
40. Love Elegy, To Henry 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Amelia Opie

Secret Love

Not one kind friendly word!
Wilt thou in chilling silence sit;
Nor through the social hour afford
One cheering smile, or beam of wit?

Yet still, absorbed in studious care,
Neglect to waste one look on me;
For then my happy eyes may dare
To gaze and dwell unchecked on thee.

And still in silence sit, nor deign
One gentle precious word to say;
For silent I may then remain,
Nor let my voice my soul betray.

This faltering voice, these conscious eyes,
My throbbing heart too plainly speak:
There timid hopeless passion lies,
And bids...

Read the full of Secret Love

Ode To Borrowdale


Hail , Derwent's beauteous pride!
Whose charms rough rocks in threatening grandeur guard,
Whose entrance seems to mortals barred,
But to the Genius of the storm thrown wide.

He on thy rock's dread height,
Reclined beneath his canopy of clouds,

[Hata Bildir]