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Poem by William Lisle Bowles


To a Friend


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 scenes and hum of men,
Wilt thou my cares forget: in heaviness
To me the hours shall roll, weary and slow,
Till mournful autumn past, and all the snow
Of winter pale, the glad hour I shall bless
That shall restore thee from the crowd again,
To the green hamlet on the peaceful plain.



William Lisle Bowles


William Lisle Bowles's other poems:
  1. On the Funeral of Charles the First at Night, in St. GeorgeТs Chapel, Windsor
  2. Elegy Written at the Hot-Wells, Bristol
  3. Netley Abbey
  4. Sonnet 13. O Time!
  5. Sonnet 11. Written at Ostend


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Matthew Arnold To a Friend ("Who prop, thou ask'st in these bad days, my mind?")
  • Anna Barbauld To a Friend ("May never more of pensive melancholy")
  • William Shenstone To a Friend ("Have you ne'er seen, my gentle Squire!")
  • Joseph Drake To a Friend ("Yes, faint was my applause and cold my praise")
  • James Fields To a Friend ("Go, with a manly heart")
  • Richard Hovey To a Friend ("ALL too grotesque our thoughts are sometimes")
  • Amy Lowell To a Friend ("I ask but one thing of you, only one")
  • John Pierpont To a Friend ("Friend of my dark and solitary hour")

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