William Lisle Bowles

(1762 - 1850 / England)

William Lisle Bowles Poems

1. Sonnet: Languid, And Sad, And Slow, From Day To Day 1/13/2003
2. At Dover 4/16/2010
3. Art And Nature 4/16/2010
4. Elegiac Stanzas 4/16/2010
5. Time And Grief 1/4/2003
6. Associations 4/16/2010
7. Absence 4/16/2010
8. Battle Of Corruna 4/16/2010
9. A Rustic Seat Near The Sea 4/16/2010
10. Dirge Of Nelson 4/16/2010
11. Ix. O Poverty! Though From Thy Haggard Eye... 4/16/2010
12. On A Beautiful Landscape 1/1/2004
13. Languid, And Sad, And Slow, From Day To Day 1/1/2004
14. Abba Thule's Lament For His Son Prince Le Boo 4/16/2010
15. Avenue In Savernake Forest 4/16/2010
16. On Leaving A Village In Scotland 4/16/2010
17. At Tynemouth Priory 4/16/2010
18. Dover Cliffs 4/16/2010
19. Age 4/16/2010
20. At Malvern 4/16/2010
21. Approach Of Summer 4/16/2010
22. Cadland, Southampton River 4/16/2010
23. At Oxford 4/16/2010
24. Elegy Written At Hotwells, Bristol 4/16/2010
25. Bereavement 1/1/2004
26. A Cenotaph, 4/16/2010
27. Death Of Captain Cooke, 4/16/2010
28. Coombe-Ellen 4/16/2010
29. On Accidentally Meeting A Lady Now No More 4/16/2010
30. Bamborough Castle 4/16/2010
31. A Garden-Seat At Home 4/16/2010
32. Xiii. O Time! Who Know'st A Lenient Hand To Lay... 1/1/2004
33. The Right Honourable Edmund Burke 4/16/2010
34. The Winds 4/16/2010
35. Translation Of A Latin Poem 4/16/2010
36. In Memoriam 4/16/2010
37. Sonnet: At Dover Cliffs, July 20th 1787 1/13/2003
38. On Mr. Howard's Account Of Lazarettos 4/16/2010
39. On Entering Switzerland 4/16/2010
40. On The Death Of Rev. William Benwell, M.A. 4/16/2010
Best Poem of William Lisle Bowles

Sonnet: Languid, And Sad, And Slow, From Day To Day

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 mirth.
But them vain hope and easy youth beguiles,
And soon a longing look, like me, they cast
Back on the pleasing prospect of the past:
Yet Fancy points where still far onward smiles
Some sunny spot, and...

Read the full of Sonnet: Languid, And Sad, And Slow, From Day To Day

Netley Abbey

Fallen pile! I ask not what has been thy fate;
But when the winds, slow wafted from the main,
Through each rent arch, like spirits that complain,
Come hollow to my ear, I meditate
On this world's passing pageant, and the lot
Of those who once majestic in their prime
Stood smiling at decay, till bowed by time
Or injury, their early boast forgot,
They may have fallen like thee! Pale and forlorn,

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