English poet (1784-1849)
But what is Fortune? What is Fate?
The Christian knows them not:
He knows a Being, good as great,
Controls his earthly lot:
No fabled phantom's vain caprice
Assails his joy, or mars his peace.
BERNARD BARTON
"To C.B.T."
Adieu to those more cheerful hours,
Spent amid Spring's unfolding flowers,
Or Summer's soothing shade;
A few short weeks--and then adieu
To fields and groves of changeful hue,
By Autumn's hand array'd!
BERNARD BARTON
"Stanzas on the Approach of Winter"
'Tis Autumn! and the short'ning day,
The chilly evening's sober gray,
And winds that hoarser blow;
The fading foliage of the trees,
Which rustles sere in every breeze,
The approach of Winter show.
BERNARD BARTON
"Stanzas on the Approach of Winter"
Welcome, wild harbinger of spring!
To this small nook of earth;
Feeling and fancy fondly cling,
Round thoughts which owe their birth,
To thee, and to the humble spot,
Where chance has fixed thy lowly lot.
BERNARD BARTON
The Farmers Cabinet and American Herd-book
Yet not the lily nor the rose,
Though fairer far they be,
Can more delightful thoughts disclose
Than I derive from thee.
BERNARD BARTON
The Farmers Cabinet and American Herd-book
Defying Fate's and Fortune's will;
What first was fair, is glorious still.
BERNARD BARTON
"To C.B.T."
That thorny path, those stormy skies,
Have drawn our spirits nearer;
And rendered us, by sorrow's ties,
Each to the other dearer.
BERNARD BARTON
Not Ours the Vows
And deeper is the hush'd delight,
When, with her mild and mellowing light,
The full-orb'd moon on high
In gentle majesty comes forth,
Shedding her beauty on the earth,
Her glory through the sky.
BERNARD BARTON
"Stanzas on the Approach of Winter"
Patience wins the race.
BERNARD BARTON
Bruce and the Spider