ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION
Phares, "To the Hon. George Lyttelton, Esq; on his Monody to the Memory of his Lady" British Magazine 4 (March 1749) 105-06.
1743: James Thomson
1746: James Thomson
1747: Catherine Talbot
1747: Thomas Gray
1747: Thomas Edwards
1748: James Thomson
1748: W. D—n
1748: J. W-n
1751: William Shenstone
1751: Horace Walpole
1755 ca.: Richard Meadowcourt
1761: Rev. John Langhorne
1763: Rev. Charles Churchill
1765: William Kenrick
1767: Samuel Johnson
1771: W. P.
1773: James Beattie
1773: Elizabeth Carter
1773: Rev. William Lipscomb
1773: John Tait
1773: Edward Cooper
1773 ca.: A. P.
1773: John Jones
1773: C. R. M. S.
1779: Rev. Vicesimus Knox
1782: Rev. Joseph Warton
1788: John Williams
1792: John Bennet
1795: Dr. Robert Anderson
1802: George Dyer
1806: John Wooll
1806: Dr. John Aikin
1806: William Forbes
1807: Robert Southey
1809: Rev. Percival Stockdale
1810: William Wordsworth
1824: Bryan Waller Procter
1825 ca.: Henry Mackenzie
1829: Anna Brownell Jameson
1832: John Taylor Esq.
1833: Thomas Enort Smith
1834: Sir Samuel Egerton Brydges
1834: Thomas Babington Macaulay
1860: George Gilfillan
1882: Epes Sargent
1888: Edmund Gosse
1749: George Lyttelton
O LITTLETON! to Hagley's shades retir'd,
Attend these accents which thy woes inspir'd.
Can I refuse my sympathizing lays,
My share of sorrow, and my debt of praise;
When to all ears thy well-sung story roves,
Melts every soul, and a whole kingdom moves:
Attentive to thy sadly-pleasing tale,
See how each happy new-made pair turn pale:
How the fond bridegroom mov'd with tender care,
Eyes each disorder'd beauty of his fair.
Then both exchange this sympathy of heart,
"Thus may we love, but O, thus never part."
There the fair virgin, that has learn'd to prove
The soft emotions of alternate love,
Feels at each line her panting bosom rise;
And graceful sorrows steal into her Eyes.
Th' admiring critick praises while he hears
The well-sung tale, but praises with his tears;
Here the hard libertine untaught to know
The generous sorrow, at another's woe,
Wonders to find the melting numbers win
His soul; and feels he knows not what within.
Thus Orpheus each obdurate soul o'ercame,
Like thine his sorrows, and his strains the same.
O'er breasts unknown to melt, soft pity crept,
All Pluto's kingdom heard his moan, and wept.