Rev. Percival Stockdale

Isis, "To the Rev. Percival Stockdale, on reading his Poems, written at Lesbury, in Northumberland" Morning Post and Gazetteer (7 August 1800).

Say, gentle Bard! in Humber's wilds afar,
Why dost thou wear the ling'ring hours away;
And nightly sitting 'neath the Northern star,
Pour to the silent glades thy liquid lay?

Have Thames' soft Daughters heard with languid ear
The thrilling sweetness of thy moral song;
That Alna's drowsy Naiads, slumb'ring, wear
The golden lyre, that rapt our list'ning throng?

A lonely Nymph, with sad exhausted urn,
Touches with trembling hands the broken shell,
And sighs, in murmurs low, return! return!—
From hill to hill the whisp'ring accents swell.

Ah, then! ere Summer sinks beneath the snow,
And Winter's icy tears her tresses lave;
Soft round thy barque may Autumn's breezes blow,
And waft our Poet o'er the sighing wave!—

All hail to thee! our silver harps resound;
All hail to thee! the happy shore returns;
While beauty's fondest tears, that thou art found,
Fill with their nect'rous floods, our long neglected urns!