Oh, Time! thy merits who can know?
Thy real nature who discover?
The absent lover calls thee slow, -
"Too rapid," says the happy lover.
With bloom thy cheeks are now refin'd,
Now to thine eye the tear is given;
At once too cruel and too kind, -
A little hell, a little heaven.
Go then, thou charming myst'ry, go! -
Yes, tho' thou often dost amuse me,
Tho' many a joy to thee I owe,
At once I thank thee and abuse thee.
(C) John Carr (sir)
07/01/2019
Best Poems of John Carr (Sir)
- Lines To Miss ---- ,
- An Indian Massacre-song.
- A Song. The Lover The Lute Of His Deceased Mistress.
- Epigram On The Grave Of Robespierre.
- Lines To Miss E. Atkinson, On Her Presenting The Author With An Irish Pebble.
- Impromptu Lines Upon A Very Handsome Woman Keeping The Hotel De Lion Blanc, At Dantzig.
- Lines To An Accomplished Young Lady,
- Song.
- Valentine Verses, Sent To My Young Friend, Miss Emma Trevelyan, Of Wallington-house, Northumberland.
- Verses On An Autumnal Leaf.
- Lines To A Robin.
- Lines Written In A Cottage By The Sea-side
- Lines Written Upon Seeing A Blind Young Woman In North Wales,
- Lines To Annette.
- Lines Written At Kilkenny, On The Theatricals Of That City.
- Lines To Health, Upon The Recovery Of A Friend From A Dangerous Illness.
- Song. The Words Adapted To "the Cossaka," One Of The Most Ancient Of The Russ Airs.
- Lines To The Memory Of Mrs. A.h. Holdsworth, Late Of Mount Galpin, Devonshire.
- Epigram On The Author And Eliza Frequently Differing In Opinion.
- Lines To Mrs. B ---- , At Bristol Hot Wells