12 TUIBUTAKY VEUSES. 



SONNET, 



Addressed to H. K. White, on his Poems lately published. 



Henry ! I greet thine entrance into life ! 



Sure presage that the myrmidons of fate, 



The fool's unmeaning laugh, the critic's hate, 



Will dire assail thee ; and the envious strife 



Of bookish schoolmen, beings over rife, 



Whose pia-mater studious is fiird 



With unconnected matter, half di^till'd 



From letter'd page, shall bear for thee the knife, 



Beneath whose edge the poet ofttimes sinks : 



But fear not ! for thy modest woi'k contains 



The germ of Tvorth ; thy wild poetic strains, 



IIow sweet to him, untutor'd bard, who thinks 



Thy verse " has power to please, as soft it flows 



Through the smooth murmurs of the frequent close." 



G. L. C— , 1803. 



SONNET, 



To Henry Kirke Wiite, on his Poems lately pullished. 

 BY ARTHUR OWEN, ESQ. 



Hail ! gifted youth, whose passion-hreathing lay 

 Portrays a mind attuned to noblest themes, 

 A mind, which, wrapt in Fancy's high-wrought dreams. 



To nature's veriest bounds its daring way 



Can wing : what charms throughout thy pages shine. 

 To win with fairy thrill the melting soul ! 

 For though along impassion 'd grandeur roll. 



Yet in full power simplicity is thine. 



Proceed, sweet bard ! and the heav'n-granted fire 

 Of pity, glowing in thy feeling breast, 

 May nought destroy, may nought thy soul divest 



Of joy— of rapture in the living lyre, 



Thou tunest so magically ; but may fame 

 Each passing year add honours to thy name. 

 Ricliinond.Scpt. 180a. 



