I ROSE, and coming down to dine, I Turner met, a learn'd divine; 'Twas the first time that I was bless'd With sight of him, and had possess'd His company not three hours space, But Oxford call'd him from that place. Our friendship was begun, for Arts, Or love of them, can marry hearts. But see whereon we trust: eight days From thence, a friend of mine thus says: Turner is dead; amaz'd, thought I, Could so much health so quickly die? And have I lost my hopes to be Endear'd to so much industry? O man! behold thy strength, and know Like our first sight and parting, so Are all our lives, which I must say Was but a dinner, and away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUMMER DAYS by WATHEN MARK WILKS CALL PREFACE TO ERINNA'S POEMS by ANTIPATER OF SIDON ENTERTAINMENT by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE FERRY by GEORGE HENRY BOKER THE WIFES' TRAGEDY by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |