Richard Savage World Poems

  • 1.
    We left the cave. Be Fear (said I) defy'd!
    Virtue (for thou art Virtue) is my guide.


    ...
  • 2.
    When Vertue's Standard Ecclesiasticks bear,
    Their sacred Robe the noblest Minds revere.
    All to its Guidance do their Thoughts submit,
    But such who triumph in licentious Wit;
    ...
  • 3.
    Still o'er my mind wild Fancy holds her sway,
    Still on strange visionary land I stray.
    Now scenes crowd thick! now indistinct appear!
    Swift glide the months, and turn the varying year!
    ...
  • 4.
    While thus a mind humane, and wise, he shows,
    All-eloquent of truth his language flows.
    Youth, tho' depress'd, thro' all his form appears;
    Thro' all his sentiments the depth of years.
    ...
  • 5.
    Bright Arts, abus'd, like Gems, receive their Flaws;
    Physick has Quacks, and Quirks obscure the Laws.
    Fables to shade Historic Truths combine,
    And the dark Sophist dims the Text Divine.
    ...
  • 6.
    All priests are not the same, be understood!
    Priests are, like other folks, some bad, some good.
    What's vice or virtue, sure admits no doubt;
    Then, clergy, with church mission, or without;
    ...
  • 7.
    Fain would my verse, Tyrconnel, boast thy name,
    Brownlow, at once my subject and my fame!
    Oh! could that spirit, which thy bosom warms,
    Whose strength surprises, and whose goodness charms!
    ...
  • 8.
    Thus free our social time from morning flows,
    Till rising shades attempt the day to close.
    Thus my new friend: Behold the light's decay:
    Back to yon city let me point thy way.
    ...
Total 8 World Poems by Richard Savage

Top 10 most used topics by Richard Savage

Rise 8 World 8 Time 8 Soul 8 Soft 8 Mind 8 High 7 Divine 7 I Love You 7 Wild 7

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Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
 by Andrew Lang

Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
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