Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Content
- Acknowledgements
- Chronology
- Abbreviations
- Introduction
- Anne Hunter's life
- Anne Hunter's poetry
- 16 The sources of Anne Hunter's poetry
- 17 The earliest poems, published and manuscript
- 18 Broadsheets
- 19 Nine canzonetts … and six airs
- 20 Haydn and Salomon
- 21 Poems known only in manuscript
- 22 Poems, by Mrs John Hunter
- 23 The Sports of the Genii, by Mrs John Hunter
- 24 Welsh Airs
- 25 Late published poems
- Bibliography
- Index of titles
- Index of first lines
- General index
23 - The Sports of the Genii, by Mrs John Hunter
from Anne Hunter's poetry
- Frontmatter
- Dedication
- Content
- Acknowledgements
- Chronology
- Abbreviations
- Introduction
- Anne Hunter's life
- Anne Hunter's poetry
- 16 The sources of Anne Hunter's poetry
- 17 The earliest poems, published and manuscript
- 18 Broadsheets
- 19 Nine canzonetts … and six airs
- 20 Haydn and Salomon
- 21 Poems known only in manuscript
- 22 Poems, by Mrs John Hunter
- 23 The Sports of the Genii, by Mrs John Hunter
- 24 Welsh Airs
- 25 Late published poems
- Bibliography
- Index of titles
- Index of first lines
- General index
Summary
To the memory of Susan MacDonald, eldest daughter of the
Right Honourable Sir Archibald MacDonald, Lord Chief
Baron of England, and the Right Honourable Lady Louisa
MacDonald; who died at Lisbon, where she went for the
recovery of her health, March 1803, in the 22d year of her age
Led by paternal Love's protecting hand,
Where golden Tagus laves the Lusian strand,
In search of balmy Health, we saw thee part,
While Hope spoke comfort to the doubting heart.
Vain were, alas! the promises she gave!—
The blossom fell, and dropp'd into the grave!
These airy forms, which erst thy hand pourtray'd,
Recall to Fancy's eye thy parted shade:
Taste shall thy early talents learn to mourn,
While sacred Friendship marks thy distant Urn.
Prologue
If Couzens from his blots could form
A landscape, cataract, or storm,
Why may not we, with equal ease,
Make forms to think just as we please?
Amongst the common sons of earth,
The passion gives the action birth;
But we, reversing Nature's laws,
Make the effect precede the cause.
Cupid's holiday (January 25, 1797)
“Bring my new car and swiftest doves,”
Cry'd Cupid to the laughing Loves
That flutter'd round his throne.
Eager his mandate to obey,
A thousand pinions flit away.
When his commands are known.
“Here! take my quiver and my bow—
“I shall not need them, now, below:”
Then mounts his equipage;
While Zephyr seem'd to lag behind,
As if he felt not much inclin'd
The peril to engage.
Quoth he, “What whimsy have we here,
“To travel at this time of year,
“And visit folks below?
“When not a leaf is to be seen,
“Except some prim old evergreen
“Just peeping thro’ the snow.
“No roses scent the chilly air;
“No blushing pink, or lily fair:
“And, for your hot-house plants,
“Supposing one could gain admission,
“‘Tis only fit for a physician
“To seek their sickly haunts.
“Dear Master, let us wait awhile,
“Till Nature shall begin to smile,
“And her full chorus sings.
“My boist'rous brothers are abroad:
“If we should meet them on the road,
“They'll tear my silken wings.”
“Peace! fool,” cry'd Cupid: “haste away:
“I'm going to keep Holiday…
- Type
- Chapter
- Information
- The Life and Poems of Anne HunterHaydn’s Tuneful Voice, pp. 221 - 228Publisher: Liverpool University PressPrint publication year: 2009