THE
FEMALE POETS
OF
AMERICA.
BY KUFUS WLLMOT GRISWOLD.
WITH ADDITIONS BY R. H. STODDARD.
I AM OBNOXIOUS TO EACH CARPING TONGUE
THAT SAYS MY HAND A NEEDLE BETTER FITS ;
A POET'S PEN ALL SCORN I THUS SHOULD WRONG,
FOR SUCH DESPITE THEY CAST ON FEMALE WITS.
* * * BUT SURE THE ANTIQUE GREEKS WERE FAR MORE MILD,
ELSE OF OUR SEX WHY FEIGNED THEY THOSE NINE,
AND POESY MADE CALLIOPE'S OWN CHILD ?—
SO MONGST THE REST THEY PLACED THE ARTS DIVINE.
THE FOUR ELKMBNTS: By Anne Bradstreet, Boston, 1640.
CAREFULLY REVISED, MUCH ENLARGED, AND CONTINUED TO THE PRESENT TIME.
NEW YORK:
JAMES MILLER, PUBLISHER, 6±7 BROADWAY.
1874
ENTERED ACCORDING TO ACT OF CONGRESS, IN THE YEAR 1843, BY CAREY & HART, IN THE OFFICE OF THE CLERK OF THE DISTRICT COURT OF THE EASTERN DISTRICT OF PENNSYLVANIA.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by
JAMES MILLER, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
LANGE, LITTLE & Co.,
PRINTERS, ELKCTR.OTYPERS AND STEREOTYPERS,
108 TO 114 WOOSTER STREET, N Y.
PREFACE.
IT is less easy to be assured of the genuineness of literary ability in women than in men. The moral nature of women, in its finest and richest develop ment, partakes of some of the qualities of genius ; it assumes, at least, the simili tude of that which in men is the characteristic or accompaniment of the highest grade of mental inspiration. We are in danger, therefore, of mistaking for the efflorescent energy of creative intelligence, that which is only the exuberance of personal " feelings unemployed." We may confound the vivid dreamings of an unsatisfied heart, with the aspirations of a mind impatient of the fetters of time, and matter, and mortality. That may seem to us the abstract imagining of a soul rapt into sympathy with a purer beauty and a higher truth than earth and space exhibit, which in fact shall be only the natural craving of affections, undefined and wandering. The most exquisite susceptibility of the spirit, and the capacity to mirror in dazzling variety the effects which circumstances or surrounding minds work upon it, may be accompanied by no power to origi nate, nor even, in any proper sense, to reproduce. It does not follow, because the most essential genius in men is marked by qualities which we may call feminine, that such qualities when found in female writers have any certain or just relation to mental superiority. The conditions of a3sthetic ability in the two sexes are probably distinct, or even opposite. Among men, we recognise his nature as the most thoroughly artist-like, whose most abstract thoughts still retain a sensuous cast, whose mind is the most completely transfused and in corporated into his feelings. Perhaps the reverse should be considered the test of true art in woman, and we should deem her the truest poet, whose emo tions are most refined by reason, whose force of passion is most expanded and controlled into lofty and impersonal forms of imagination. Coming to the duty of criticism, however, with something of this antecedent skepticism, I have reviewed the collection of works which my task brought before me, with fre quent admiration and surprise ; and leaving to others the less welcome task of rejecting pretensions, which must inspire interest, if they can not command acquiescence, I content myself with expressing, affirmatively, my own con viction, that the writings of Mrs. Maria Brooks, Mrs. Oakes-Smith, Mrs.
PREFACE.
Osgood, Mrs. Whitman, and some others here quoted, illustrate as high and sustained a range of poetic art, as the female genius of any age or country can display. The most striking quality of that civilization which is evolving itself in America, is the deference felt for women. As a point in social manners, it is so pervading and so peculiar, as to amount to a national characteristic ; and it ought to be valued and vaunted as the pride of our freedom, and the brightest hope of our history. It indicates a more exalted appreciation of an influence that never can be felt too deeply, for it never is exerted but for good. In the aosence from us of those great visible and formal institutions by which Europe has been educated, it seems as if Nature had designed that resources of her own providing should guide us onward to the maturity of civil refinement. The in creased degree in which women among us are taking a leading part in literature, is one of the circumstances of this augmented distinction and control on their part. The proportion of female writers at this moment in America, far exceeds that which the present or any other age in England exhibits. It is in the West, too, where we look for what is most thoroughly native and essential in American character, that we are principally struck with the number of youthful female voices that soften and enrich the tumult of enterprise, and action, by the inter- blended music of a calmer and loftier sphere. Those who cherish a belief that the progress of society in this country is destined to develop a school of art, original and special, will perhaps find more decided indications of the infusion of our domestic spirit and temper into literature, in the poetry of our female authors, than in that of our men. It has been suggested by foreign critics, that our citizens are too much devoted to business and politics to feel interest in pursuits which adorn but do not profit, and which beautify existence but do not consolidate power : feminine genius is perhaps destined to retrieve our public character in this respect, and our shores may yet be far resplendent with a temple of art which, while it is a glory of our land, may be a monument to the honor of the sex.
The American people have been thought deficient in that warmth and deli cacy of taste, without which there can be no genuine poetic sensibility. Were it true, it were much to be regretted that we should be wanting in that noble capacity to receive pleasure from what is beautiful in nature or exquisite in art — in that venerating sense — that prophetic recognition — that quick, intense perception, which sees the divine relations of all things that delight the eye or kindle the imagination. One endowed with an apprehension like this, becomes purer and more elevated, in sentiment and aspiration, after viewing an embodi-
PREFACE.
ment of any such conception as that specimen of genius materialized, the Bel- videre Apollo, " at the aspect of which," says Winckelmann, "I forget all the universe : I involuntarily assume the most noble attribute of my being in order to be worthy of its presence." I shall not inquire into the causes of the denial that this fine instinct exists among us. The earlier speculations upon the sub ject, by Depaw and others, were deemed of sufficient importance to be an swered by the two of our presidents who have been most distinguished in literature and philosophy : but they have been repeated, in substance, by De Tocqueville, who had seen, or might have seen, the works of Dana, Bryant, Halleck, Longfellow, and Whittier ; of Irving, Cooper, Kennedy, Hawthorne, and Willis ; of Webster, C banning, Prescott, Bancroft, and Legare ; of Allston, Leslie, Leutze, Huntington, and Cole ; of Powers, Greenough, Crawford, Clevenger, and Brown. Such prejudices, which could not be dispelled by the creations of these men, will be little affected by anything that could be offered here : yet to an understanding guided by candor, the additional display of a body of literature like the present, exhibiting so pervading an aspiration after the beautiful — under circumstances, in many cases, so little propitious to its action — and in a sex which in earlier ages has contributed so sparingly to high art — will come with the weight of cumulative testimony.
Several persons are mentioned in this volume whose lives have been no holydays of leisure : those, indeed, who have not in some way been active in practical duties, are exceptions to the common rule. One was a slave — one a domestic servant — one a factory girl: and there are many in the list who had no other time to give to the pursuits of literature but such as was stolen from a frugal and industrious housewifery, from the exhausting cares of teaching, or the fitful repose of sickness. These illustrations of the truth, that the muse is no respecter of conditions, are especially interesting in a country where, though equality is an axiom, it is not a reality, and where prejudice reverses in the application all that theory has affirmed in words. The propriety of bringing before the world compositions produced amid humble and laborious occupa tions, has been vindicated by Bishop Potter, with so much force and elegance, in his introduction to the Poems of Maria James, that I regret that the limits of this preface forbid my copying what I should wish every reader of this book to be acquainted with.
When I completed " The Poets and Poetry of America," a work of which the public approval has been illustrated in the sale of ten large editions, I determined upon the preparation of the present volume, the appearance of
PREFACE.
which has been delayed by my interrupted health. I must be permitted, how ever, to congratulate with the public, that since my intention was announced and known, others have relieved me from the responsibility of singly executing that which I had been hardy enough singly to plan and propose. Their merits may compensate for my deficiencies. The first volume of this nature which appeared in this country, was printed in Philadelphia in 1S44, under the title of "Gems from American Female Poets, with brief biographies, by Rufus W. Griswold." As Mr. T. B. Read, in his " Female Poets of America," (it is Mr. Read's publisher who declares, in the advertisement to this work, that "the biographical notices which it contains have been prepared in every instance from facts either within his personal knowledge, or communicated to him directly by the authors or their friends,") and Miss C. May, in her "American Female Poets," (in the preface to which she acknowledges a resort to " printed authori ties,") have done me the honor to copy that slight performance with only a too faithful closeness, I owe them apologies for having led them into some errors of fact. Both of them, transcribing from the " Gems," speak of Mrs. Mowatt as the daughter of " the late" Mr. Samuel Gouverneur Ogden : I am happy to con tradict the record, by staling that Mr. Ogden still enjoys in health and vigor the honors of living excellence. Mr. Read, reproducing my early mistake, has given Mrs. Hall the Christian name of Elizabeth, and the birthplace of Boston. Nothing but the extraordinary haste with which the trifling volume of 1844 was put together, could excuse my ignorance that the name of the authoress of "Miriam" was Louisa Jane, and that she was a native of Newburyport. In one or the other of these volumes are many more errors, for which I confess myself solely responsible: but it would be tedious to point them out, while it would be scarcely necessary to do so, as they will undoubtedly be corrected, from the present work, should the volumes referred to attain to second editions.
It is proper to state that a large number of the poems in this volume are now for the first time printed. Many authors, with a confidence and kindness which are justly appreciated, not only placed at my disposal their entire printed works, but gave me permission to examine and make use of their literary M8S. without limitation.
FEW YORK, December, 1848.
PREFACE TO THIS EDITION.
twenty-five years have passed since the first publication of " THE FEMALE POETS OF AMEKICA," of which a new and enlarged edition is here presented to the reader. Many who figured in its pages then have passed away, and others who remain have passed out of the remembrance of their contemporaries. It might almost be said that a new school of poetry has arisen, and a new race of female poets come into existence since this col lection was first made. There is little or no similarity between the writers whom I have added to it, arid those whom Dr. Griswold delighted to honor, and from whose writings he selected so lavishly. If he were alive now I have no doubt but that he would prefer the latter to the former, but he would hardly be able to bring his readers to his way of thinking. We have outgrown such singers of spontaneous verse as Mrs. Hemans and Miss Lan- don, and we insist that our songstresses shall outgrow them, too. If they must reflect other minds, those minds must be of a larger order than their own, or we will none of them — at second-hand. There is, if I am not mis taken, more force and more originality — in other words, more genius — in the living female poets of America than in all their predecessors, from Mis tress Anne Bradstreet down. At any rate there is a wider range of thought in their verse, and infinitely more art.
I have not meddled with Dr. Griswold's selections, which are not in all cases, perhaps, such as I should have chosen, and I have, of course, let his criticisms stand for what they are worth: they are generally generous, never, I believe, severe. I have been obliged, however, to alter his text in several instances, either because the ladies to whom it referred have mar ried, or died, or both, since it was first written. I have endeavored to
PREFACE TO THIS EDITION.
state with accuracy the dates of birth and death, but have not been able to do so in a number of instances, owing to the usual sins of omission in American biographical works. Dr. Griswold appears to have shrunk from fulfilling this part of his task, — at least so far as the dates of birth were con cerned, for reasons which may be conjectured, — as I have myself. If I may allude to so delicate a matter as a lady's age, the age of no lady whose poe try is included in the additions which I have made will ever be known through any indiscretion of mine. I have to thank these ladies for infor mation furnished with regard to their poems, as well as their publishers for permission to select what I chose from their works ; especially Messrs. J. R. Osgood & Co., by whom the greater number are published.
R. H. STODDAKD.
NEW YOKE, July 23, 1873.
CONTENTS.
IW MWDtTCTrOS PAOB O
MRS. ANNE BRADSTREET.
A Contemporary of Spenser and Shakspere 17
Editions of her Poems published in Boston and London 17
John Woodbridge's Account of her and her Works 17
Du Bartas the Fashionable Poet of the Age 18
Verses to her, and Notices of her, by Nath. Ward, B. Wood- bridge, John Norton, Cotton Mather, and President Rogers. IS
Extracts from her Poems addressed to her Husband 19
An Elegy upon the Death of her Grandchild 19
Verses in her old Age upon the Death of her Daughter-in-law. 19
Her Death, Character, and Descendants 19
Extract from the Prologue to the Four Elements 19
Extract from Contemplations 20
MRS. MERCY WARREN.
Social Position and Connexion with Public Affairs 21
Notice of her Satire entitled The Group, with Extracts 21
Notices of her Tragedies, The Sack of Rome, and The Ladies
of Castile, with Extracts 22
Extracts from other Poe.ns 22
Things necessary to the Life of a Woman 23
Acquaintance with John Adams and Washington 23
History of the American Revolution 23
Character, and Rochefoucault's Opinion of her 23
MRS. ELIZABETH GRAEME FERGUSON.
Society in Philadelphia before the Revolution 24
Mrs. Ferguson's Family— Disappo'ntment in Love— Voyage to
Europe — Acquaintance with Laurence Sterne, &c 24
Her Marriage, and Relations with the Whigs and Tories 25
Connexion with Dr. Duche, and Affair of General Reed 25
Her later Years 25
Character of her Poems and Translations 25
Invocation to Wisdom 26
fri
Telemachi.
26
The Procession of Calypso '2fi
Apollo with the Flocks of King Admctus 27
The Invasion of Love 27
MRS. ANNE ELIZA BLEECKER.
Early Years, Marriage, and Removal to Tomhanick 28
Extract from a Poem descriptive of her Home 28
Extracts from Verses addressed to Mr. Bleecker 28
Flight from Tomhanick on the Approach of the British Army.. 28
Lines written on this Event 28
Visit to New York, last Return to Tomhanick, and Death 29
MRS. PHILLIS WHEATLEY PETERS.
Purchased while a Child, in the Boston Slave Market 30
Her early Acquirements and the Interest they excited .30
Visits London, and is introduced to Lady Huntingdon 30
Curious Address to the Public respecting her, by the Governor
of Massach usetts, and Others SO
Loses her Master, and marries fora Home 30
The Abbe Gregoire's Account of her 30
Her Husband a " handsome Man and a Gentleman" 31
She quarrels with him without good Reason 31
General Washington's Letter to her 31
Her inedited MSS. now in Philadelphia 31
Mr. Jefferson compares her to the Heroes of the Dunriad 31
Opinions respecting her by Gregoire, Clarkson, and others 31
On the Death of the Rev. Mr. George Whitefield 32
Extract from a Poem On the Imagination 32
A Farewell to America 32
MRS. SUSANNAH ROWSON.
Her Father a British Officer in New England 33
Her Marriage in London and Literary Life there 33
Great Sale of her Charlotte Temple 33
Her Character and Career as an Actress 3:3
Retires from the Stage, and establishes a School in Boston 33
Account of her Works - 33
America, Commerce, and Freedom 34
Kiss the Brim, and Let it Pass 34
Thanksgivixg 34
MRS. MARG/vRETTA V. FAUGERES.
A Daughter of Mrs. Bleeoker 35
Unfo
,ofh
SB
Review of her Belisarhtt, a. Tragedy 35
Extract from her Poem on The Hudson 37
Vtrt€t addressed to the Members of the Cincinnati 37
MISS ELIZA TOWNSEND.
Mr. Nicholas Biddle's Opinion of her Prize Ode r*o» 38
She is educated during a Period of singular Excitement 33
Southey's Ode on Napoleon, written in 1814, like hers of 1809.. 38
Dr. Cheever's Commendation of one of her Poems 38
An Occasional Ode, written in June, 1809 39
Poem To Robert Smtthey, wiitten in 1812 41
The Incomprehensibility of God 42
Another " Castle in the Air" 43
Extract from a Poem On the Death of C has. Brockdcn Brotvti. 43
MRS. LAVINIA STODDARD.
Her History and Character 44
The Sours Dejiance 44
Sons 44
MISS HANNAH F. GOULD.
Her Father 45
Sprightliness and Individuality of ber Genius 45
A Name in the Sand 45
Changes on the Deep 48
The Scar of Lexington 47
The Snow Flake 47
The Winds 48
The Frost 48
The Waterfall 43
The Moon upon the Spire 49
The Robe 49
The Consignment 49
The Winter Burial 60
The Pebble and the Acorn 60
The Ship is Ready 50
The Child on the Beach 51
The Midnight Mail 61
MRS. CAROLINE OILMAN.
Marries Dr. Gilman, and resides in South Carolina 52
Notices of her Prose Writings and Poems '. 52
Rosalie 52
The Plantation 54
Music on the Canal 55
The Congressional Burying-Ground 65
To the Ursulines 56
Return to Massachusetts 66
Annie in the Graveyard 66
MRS. SARAH JOSEPHA HALE.
Her Marriage and subsequent Literary Studies 57
Publishes The Genius of Oblivion and other Poems 67
Character of Northwood and her other Prose Works 67
Editor of The Ladies'1 Magazine, the Lady's Book, &c 57
Publishes Three Hours, or the Vigil of Love, and other Poems.. 57
Her Ormond Grosrenor, Harry Guy, and other Poems 58
Extent of her Writings, and their Character 58
The Mississippi. f>9
The Ftnir-Leoved Clover 60
Description of Alice Ray 60
Iron 61
The Watcher 61
I Sing to Him 63
The Light (if Home 62
The Two Maidens 64
MRS. ANNA MARIA WELLS.
Her Husband an Author 63
Publication of her Poems, in 1830 63
*•««»<* «»
The Tamed Eagle 63
The Old Elm-Tree 64
Anna 64
The Future 64
The White Hare &
The Sea-Bird 65
MISS MARIA JAMES.
Her Poems published by Bishop Potter 66
Her own Account of her Life 66
Ode for the Fourth of July 67
The Pilgrims 67
The Soldier's Grave <*
Too Singing-Bird 6»
Good Friday ••- ^
10
CONTENTS.
MRS. MARIA BROOKS, (Maria del Occidents)
Her Early Life passed in the Vicinity of Boston PAGE 69
Changs of Fortune described, in an Extract from Idomen 69
Publishes Judith, Esther, unit other Poems 69
:>f this Voli
TO
Cvpidtkt Runaway, from the Greek of Moschus 70
Death of her Husband, Residence in Cuba, and Travels 70
Mr. Southey superintends the 1'ublication of Zophiel 70
Verses addressed to him 70
Review of '/.ophiel, with Extracts 71
Creative Energy. Passion, and Delicacy, exhibited in it 79
Its Publication in Huston 79
Opini .us D|' it by .Sunthey, Cluirles Lamb, and others, (Note,).. 79
Mrs. Brookf'l Residence at West Point and Fort Columbus... 79
Prints Id-mien, for Private Circulation 79
Her Lifeund Character illustrated in tliat Work 80
Visits her Estate in Cuba 80
Extru-ts from her Letters 80
Her Death 80
Further Extracts from Zop/iiel 8L
Ode ott Revisiting Cu/ia 83
Ode to the Depai ted 84
Hymn »6
The Moon of Flowers 86
Tothe River St. Lawrence 87
To Niagara 88
Verses Written on Seeing Pharamond 88
Prayer 88
Song 89
Friendt/t ij> 89
Farewell to Cuba 89
•IRS. JULIA RUSH WARD.
Marries .Samuel Ward, the Banker 90
Literary Society in New York at this Period 90
"Sije te perd, je suis perdu" ^ 9U
MRS. LYDIA HUNTLEY S1GOURNEY.
Her Early Life 91
Publication of her Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse HI
Marries Mr. Charles Sigourney 91
Keview of Traits of the Aborigines 91
Works in Prose and Verse, for Twenty Years 9-2
SI
Review of I'ocahontas 9-2
Her Pleasant Memorief of Pleasant Lands, &c 92
Her P
.ud Mt
Mr. Alexander H. Everett's Opinion of her Poems 93
The Western Emigrant 94
The Pilgrim Fathers 94
W*>ie- 95
Niagara 95
The Alpme Flowers 95
Napoleon's Epitaph 96
The Death if an Infant 96
M'tio,/,, on Mrs. Hemant 97
The Mother of Washington 97
The Country Church 98
Solitude 98
Sunset on the Allegany 98
The Indian Girl's Burial 99
Indian Names 99
A Butterfly on a Child's Grave 9<j
Monody on the late Daniel Wadsworth ] 00
Advertisement of a Lost Day 1 00
Farewell to a Rural Residence 101
A Widow at her Daughter's Bridal. - 101
MRS. KATHARINE A. WARE.
Edits T/ie fioiver(f Taste 102
Hesi.lence abroad, and Death, in Paris 102
Her Power ->f the Passions, and other Poems m-i
Loss of the First- Born u>2
Madness 103
A New Year's Wish c ." 1 0:j
Ma rks of Time 1 03
MRS. JANE L. OKAY.
Her Residence on the Forks of the Delaware 104
James Montgomery's Opinion of a Poem by her 104
Two Hundred Years .Igo 104
SaMialh Reminiscence! J 05
Morn 10(3
MRS. SOPHIA L. LITTLE.
A Daughter of the Jurist and Statesman Ashnr Rohl.ins 107
Notices of he' Works .....107
Tht Pot: 10?
Thanksgiving 108
URS. LYD1A MARIA CHILD
On"! of our most brilliant Pn.se Writers 110
Man.ts amid the Ruins of Carthage 110
Litiri c* hearing a Buy mock the Soundofa Clock no
MRS. LOUISA J. HALL.
Educated by Dr. Park, her Father
Her feeble Constitution
Circumstances under which Miriam was written..
Her Joanna of Naples, and other Works
Review of Miriam, with Extracts
Character of the Work
Justice and Mercy
A Dramatic Fragment
MRS. ELIZA L. FOLLEV.
Death of her Husband, Professor Charles Follen.
Her Writings
Sachem', Hill ."I!...'"".'.....
Winter Scene in the Country I".'.....
Evening
MRS. FRANCES H. GREEN.
The Misfortunes of her Father
She writes a Memoir of Eleanor Elbricige, Ac
The Mechanic, by her, commended by Mr. Brownsi
Notice of Nanuntenoo
P1G1 III
Ill
Ill
Ill
11J
117
..lid
..'21 ..111 ..ill ..123
..122
Her Songt of the Winds, and other Poems Opinions in Philosophy and Religion New England Summer in the Ancient Time A Sarragansett Sachem
Songofthe North Wind
Song of the East Wind
Song of Winter
The Ch ickadee's Song
The Honey- Bee's Song
MRS. JESSIE G. McCARTEE.
A Descendant of Isabella Graham
Character of her Poems
The Indian Mother's Lament
T/te Eagle of the Falls
Death-Song of Moses
How Beautiful is Sleep
MISS CYNTHIA TAGGART.
H er interesting H istory
Letter from Dr. John VV. Francis respecting her.
Merit of her Writings
Ode to the Poppy
Invocation to Health....
On a Storm
MRS. FRANCESCA PASCALIS CANF1ELD.
The Scientific Labors of her Father
Dr. Mitchill's Valentine to her
Her Learning ami Accomplishments
Unfortunate Marriage, and Death
Verses To Dr. Mitchill
Edith
MISS ELIZABETH BOGART.
Writings under the Signature of " Estelle"
An Autumn View, from my Window
Retrospection.
Forgerf, finest '
He Came too Late
MRS. MARY E. BROOKS.
Marriage with James G. 75rooks
Publishes The Rivals of Ette, and other Poems...
Death of Mr. Brooks
The Close of the Year
A Pledge to the Dying Year
" Weep not for the Dead"
Dream of Life
MRS. MARGARET ST. LEON LOUD.
Her KesMence in the South
Mr. Poe's Opinion of her Writings
A Dream of the Lonely Isle
The Deserted Homestead
Pra <ier for an Absent Husband
Rest in 'the Grave....
..123 ..123 ..123 .123 ..123 ,.123 .124 .124 .125 .127 .128 .129 .130 .130
.131 .131 .131 .131
-. 132 .132
.133 .133 .133 .133 .134 .134 .134
..137 ..137
MR?. EMMA C. EMBURY.
Publishes Guido and other Poems
Character of her Tales
Her Nature's Gems, and other Worns
Two I 'ortraitf. from Life
Tlie Duke of Reichstadt
Sympathy
Autumn Evening
Harp..
The .Kolin
Unrest
T!ie Old Man's Lame, The American River.. Tht English River... ,
.139 .139 .140 .140 .140
.141 .141 .141 .142 .14-7 .14-]
.143 .143 .143 .143 .144 .144 .144 .i4S .145 .14.1 .145 .145 .146
CONTENTS.
11
MRS. EMMA C. EMBURY, (CONTINUED.)
BcMa'J.
Cheerfulness
The Widwft Woo<r
Madame de Sluel
Heart Questionings
Never Forg et
PAGE 147
147
147
148
148
148
MISS ELIZABETH MARGARET CHANDLER.
A Member of tlie Society of Friends 149
Removal to Michigan, and Death there 149
Her Works 149
The I) e cote d. 149
T/te Battle- Field 150
A Revolutionary Soldier's Prayer 150
The Brandt/wine 151
MISSES LUCRETIA AND MARGARET DAVIDSON.
Their Genius and Interesting Character 152
The First Compositions of Lucretia Davidson 152
Verses on the Grave of Wa>hingion 153
Visits Canada 1 53
Lines to her Infant Sister 153
Writes Amir Khan 153
Her Death 153
Memoirs of her by Mr. Morse and Miss Sedgwick 153
Her Poem addressed to Mrs. Townsend 153
To a Slur 153
A Prophecy 1 54
Auction Extraordinary 154
Address to her Mother 154
On the Fear uf Madness lr,5
Effect ofher Death upon Margaret Davidson 155
Margaret's Education , , 155
Verses, " / would Jiy from the City" 155
Changes of Residence 155
Her Death 156
Lenore to the Spirit of Lticretia 156
Stanzas tn her Mother 156
The Writings of M rs. Davidson 156
MRS. MARY E. STEBBINS.
Poems under the Signature of " lone1' 157
Publishes Songs of our Land, and other Poems 157
Character of her Poerns 157
The Songs of our Land 157
The Two Voices 158
The Axe of the Settler 158
A Thought of the Pilgrims 159
The City by the Sea 169
1\e Sunflower to the Sim 160
The Last Chant of Corinne 160
Green Places in the City 160
Cameos 160
A Yarn 161
Imitation of Sappho 161
Love's Pleading 16-2
The Hearth of Home 162
The Launch 162
The Ode of Harold the Valiant 163
Lay 163
MRS. SUSAN R. A. BARNES.
Characteristics of her Works 164
The Army of the Cross lt,5
Penitence 1 55
MRS. SARAH HELEN WHITMAN.
Descended from a Companion of Roger Williams 166
The Career and Death of her Husband Ifi6
Her Acquirements, and Writings in Prose 166
Her Fairy Tales 166
Remarkable Merits of her Poems 166
The Sleeping Beauty 167
Line* irrilten in November 169
A Still Day in Autumn 169
" A Green and Silvery Spot among the Hills" 170
The Waking of the Heart 170
A Day of the Indian Summer 171
Translation of The Lost Church 172
The Past 172
A September Day on the Banks of the Moshassitck 173
Summer's Invitation to the Orphan 173
Bridal Ring.
Stt
"She Blooms no more" 174
The Maiden's Dream '. 174
Poem before the Rhode Island Hist. Soc., upon Roger Williams.. 176
"Hoio softly comes the Summer Wind" 175
A Smis of Spring 176
On a Statue of David ...176
MRS. ELIZABETH OAKES SMITH.
Her Descent from the Pilgrims PAGE 177
Her Marriage 177
Circumstances under which she has written 177
Remarks on The Sinless Child, with Extracts 178
Her D ramas 1 79
Review of The Roman Tribute, with Extracts 180
Review of Jam/, Leisler, a Tragedy 18-J
Scene from Jacob Leisler 183
Her Prose Works 183
Writings nnder the Name of" Ernest Helfenstein" 183
H»>r Hank among the Female Poets 183
Tim Acorn 1^4
The Drowned Mariner 1 86
Totlu Hudson i*}
Sonnets- 1^7
I- Poesy lift
II. The Bard 187
III. An Incident 187
IV. The Unattained 187
V. The Wife W7
VI. Religion 187
VII. The Dream 1*7
VIII. Wayfarers ..".IW
1 X., X. Heloise to Abelard 188
XI. Despondency )»8
XII. Love 188
XIII. "Look not behindThee" 188
XI V. Charity in Despair of Justice 188
XV. The Great Aim 1 88
XVI. Midnight 188
XVII. Jealousy 189
Ecce Homo 189
Ode to Sappho 189
Love Dead 190
Stanzas 190
Endurance 190
Ministering Spirits 19]
The Recall, or Soul Melody 191
The Water ;..... 191
The Brook 191
The Cou-.ry Maiden 193
Ttie April Rain 19C
Atheism >93
Let Me be a Fantasy 194
Strength from the Hills 194
Eros and Anteros 194
The Poet 19*
MRS. E. C. KINNEY.
Account of her Writings 190
Characterized, by a Correspondent 195
To the Eagle 195
Ode : To the Moon 196
The Spirit of Song 197
Extract from The Quakeress Bride 197
Sonnets: 198
I. Cultivation 198
II. Encouragement 198
III. Fading Autumn 198
I V. A Winter Nighj 198
V. To the. Greek Slave 11V
VI. To Arabella 19?
The Woodman 194
MRS. ELIZABETH F. ELLET.
Hei Domestic Connexions 19S
Translates Euphemia of Messina 199
Production of her Teresa Conrarini 199
Papers in the Reviews 199
Her Characters of Schiller, Joanna of Sicily, and other Works . . 199
Characteristics ofher Poems 1W
Snsqnehannah 200
Lake Ontario 201
The Delaware Water-Gap 201
Insensibility 201
Love, in Youth and Age 201
SodusBay 202
"O'er the Wild Waste" 202
Song 202
The old Love - 2l )3
The Sea-Kings 203
Venice
Sonnetti '204
I. Mary Magdalen 204
II. Tlie* Good Shepherd 204
III. "Oh, Weary Heart" *»*
" Abide with Us" • 204
The Persexaed 20«
A Dirge 2°*
TheBuriil. *°»
CONTENTS.
.MKS. JCI.IA H. SCOTT.
Her Early Lite and lie.iutif.il Char»< ter II »T M;irri:i-f, Mini Death U.-r PotlM pnbtt h.-d by Mis- K i- irti.n 7V 7Vo <7rai>«
./>/./ c/i,/,/
•rum in I'nflry MRS. ANNA I'EYKF. MINNIES.
Mrs. l!:,i,.'s AfiCOMrtofhei Marriage Sin- writ.-* under tli.- BJflMtttn of " Moin;t" Publish.- 7V l''l<,ri.il IVar If'-ddrd Lm-e
toi 205
206
....206
206
207
. . . . 207
203 208
;•.•„, /,/,-,„< .................................................... 209
7V 7V »r Ballad -:f a H;,Hderrr ............................. 20!)
MRS. ANN S. STEPHENS.
The Spi.it .ind Poj.ulaiity of her Prose Writings .............. 210
7V 01,1 .-/,)/,/<• Tree ....................................... 210
MRS. V. K ST. .JOHN.
E\t.-nt of her Productions ................................... 211
Medusa, fr <m tin .Iniiijne Cameo ............................. 211
MRS. 3ARAI! I.iiClSA P. SMITH.
A (iranddauihrerofr.eneral Hull ............................ 212
I miiel .Jenks Smith .......................... 212
.-I' Etteidmee, :..id Literary ArUvity ................. 212
II. r Death. and the Character of her Poems ................. 212
T:,f Ihima .................................................. 212
White Roses ................................................. 212
Xl.mz,,* ..................................................... 2J3
We Fall of 11'anaw ........................................ 213
MR.-. SOPHIA HKI.K.N OLIVER.
Herl'oem* .................................................. 214
" / murk the I fours that S/tine" ............................... 21 4
Tl.e Cloud Ship .............................................. 214
The Shadows ................................................ 215
.17. nistrrins Spirits ..................... .................... 215
MISS MARY E. I.KK.
H.-r P.alhd-t and other Poems ................................ 216
The Potts ................................................... 216
A>i F.asfcrn Lore-Kong ...................................... 216
The Last Place of Sleep ...................................... 216
MRS CATHERINE H. ESL1NG.
r. Come Home" ..................................... 217
' //, KMJ our Puttier's Darling" ............................. 217
MRS. CAROM NT. M. S A \\ V K II.
Her Early Education ........................................ 218
Acquaintance with Foreign Literatures ....................... 218
Disadvantageous Channels of Publication ..................... 218
............................................ 218
Intidr/itii iiinl Religion ..'. .................................... 21!)
The J'alley of Pence ......................................... 219
Tht Boy and hit .hi-^i ...................................... 220
Tfie Laihi t>f Lurid .......................................... 2-iI
'/•- II •' /:.„. >n. itrnnre .................................... 221
M'/ .S-,V,y.,,,- Clti/ilrt-n ....................................... ?22
*l,it,t,j>,ic .............................................. 223
The ll'tirri'i-'s Dirge ........................................ 224
Kenyan .......... '. ......................................... 224
I'ebblei ..................................................... 224
MRS- MXKCiARKT L. ItAII.EY.
Her Editorial Labors ........................................ 2C5
H. -i Poem .................................................. 225
.............................................. 225
Thr J'tii'ii, r ( 'lulil's liiirinl, .................................. 225
MemM-ui .................................................... 226
.1 i;, ,'•,!', 1 ........................................... 226
MKS. I.U'K \ M. TUUKSTON.
1,,-r in Indiana ............................... 227
Munface, tnd D**tt ........................................ 227
Vida" ....................... 227
'• 7V Orttn l/,/:- if my r,ith,rlnml" ........................ 2:7
....................... 227
Miss MARTHA n \V.
H.-r Utomy R.-ni.,inMiubli>hed by Prof.-sor Kii.--l.-y 2:8
H;.«n •-'-'*
'•// 228
miss -»i \I;Y i«H H \NMKK DODD.
Her Litt-rary As>... iitinus 229
rubll-atiMii • f li.-r PoeiiM 2:9
i,,,t,tnt 229
7Vi, • M.,i,rn, r 22'»
'io ., CHdM 2:10
'/•/,, IH-ramer 2:50
fVif Dort't I'ifit 231
231
MKS. ANNE O. BOTTA.
H.-i Katlier one of the United Irishmen »*o» 232
H.-r Ediu-atiori 232
Literary Soirees 2;5i
Chara.-teristirs of her Poems 232
7V Ideal 233
The Me,il Found 2*1
Tht Image Uroken 8$J
Tli, Untile tif Life 234
Tlfni^ iits In n Lihi ani -35
Hngar ' *•*
To the Memory of Channing 235
A Thought lui the Seashore 236
The Jhnnh Creation '-236
The Wounded V,:lture 238
F.rni 237
To ,in Obscurity 2;57
To , with Flnwert 2.17
0,i „ 1'icture of llarccy Birch 2:57
Sotmeti: 238
I. Love + 238
II. The L,,ke and the Star 238
III. A Remembrance 238
I V. The Sun and Storm 238
V. To 238
VI. The Honey- Bee 238
VII. Aspiration 238
VIII. To the Savior 238
IX. Faith 2:s9
Kones in the Desert -~....SW
Chriil Betrayed 239
Tlte Wasted Fountain* 240
I'm il I 'reaching- at Athens 240
SIRS. EMILY JUDSON.
Her Wriiiiigs tiuderthe Pseudonym of" Fanny Forester11 241
Publication of Alderbrook 241
Marriage to the Missionary Judson 241
Goes to India 24-1
H.T .•Ittarogn, the Maid of the Rock, in Four Cantos 242
The Weaver 242
Miniitcring Angels 543
To my Mother '243
To Spring 244
Death 244
L, -his t/nd Shades 244
to Earth 245
Aspiring to Heaven 245
The lluds ,f the Sarimac 245
My Bird 245
MRS. ELIZABETH JESUP EAMES.
Contributions to the Periodicals 246
Cr*mi*f»SP«r**k 246
Tlie Death of Pan 247
Cleopatra 247
MyMothtr 247
Sonnett: 248
1. Milton 24U
1 1 . Drtiden 248
III. Addisim 243
IV. T,i»o 243
V., VI. 7V Author of " The Sinless Child" 248
VII. Tiie I'nst 84 8
VIII. Diem I'erdidi 249
1 X . , X . Ho ,,ks 249
On the /'iftnre of a Departed Peetefs 249
r
.9 i'.i
Flairers in n S,ck-R,iom }4S
MR^. I MKI.I.NK S. SMITH.
Publication of Tlte Fai'-y', Search, and other Poem* 250
Hymn to the Deity, in the Contemplation of Nature 260
" We've h,iti our Xht.re of Bliss, Beloved" 2oC
MAI:«; VIJKT I-TLLKK, MAIUMIIONKSS D'OSSOLI.
Her Rank amonj; the Writ.-rs of her Sex 251
Governor Everett receiving the Indian C/iiefs, Sic 251
Thr Sin-red Marriage 253
Sonnets : 252
I. Orjiheut 25J
II. Instrumental Music 253
III. Beethoven , 253
IV. Mo-.art 253
V. T, ll'iifhin-ton Alhtim't Picture, " The Bride" 2/%3
To Kdith, on her Birthday 2,53
Lin,s it-ritten in Illinois 253
On Leaving the Wett 2.54
Ganymede to his Ea git 234
Life a Temple 255
Kw.inraeemeiU 256
GunhiUlu 36J
CONTENTS.
13
MUS. LYDIA JANE PEIRSON.
Her Early History ................................. Pics 256
Anecdote of Mrs. Peirson and Thaddeus Stevens ........... 256
Her Purest Minstrel, and Purest Leaves ...................... 256
NX Song .................................................... 256
MH Muse .................................................... 257
To an &olinn Harp ......................................... 257
To the Wood Robin .......................................... 258
The mid mood Home ......................................... 258
Isabella ..................................................... 258
Sunset in the Forest .................... '. .................... 259
Tlte last Pale Flowers ....................................... 259
To t/te Woods ............................................... 259
MRS. JAXK TAYLOR WORTH1NGTON.
Her Connexion* in Virginia .................................. 260
Marriage, Writings, Death ................................... 260
TvthePeakofQtttr ......................................... MO
Lines, to One who will wide, stand Them ...................... 260
Moonlight on the Grave ...................................... 261
The Child'! Grave ........................................... 261
The Poor ................................................... 261
Sleep ........................................................ 262
To Twilight ................................................. 262
Tlte Withered Leaves ........................................ 262
MRS. SARAH ANNA LEWIS.
Publishes Records of the Heart ............................... 263
Tfie forsaken, by her, compared with a Poem by Motherwell. .263 Review .,f her Child of the Sea, with Extracts ................ 264
Extract from Isabelle, or the Broken Heart .................... 265
Lament of La I'cga, in Captivity ............................ 266
Una ........................................................ 266
The Dead ................................................... 266
MRS. ANNA CORA MO WATT RITCHIE.
Notice of her Father .................................. ....... 267
Her IJirth and Education, abroad ............................. 267
Early Predilection fur the Stage .......... . ................... 267
Story of her Marriage ....................................... 267
Publishes Pelayo, or the Cavern ofCoeadonga ................ 267
Residence in Europe ........................................ 267
Publishes Evelyn, Fashion, and other Works ................. 267
Her Theatrical Career ....................................... 267
Visit to England ............................................. 268
The Raising of J aims' Daughter ............................ 268
My Life .................................................... 269
Love ........................................................ 2K9
269
Tlty Will be done
On a Lock of my Mother's Hair
MRS. MARY NOEL MEIGS, (McDONALD.)
Publishes TVenwty M.N.M. ................................ 270
j,,ne ........................................................ 270
The Spells of Memory ....................................... 271
lane's Aspirations ........................................... 271
MRS. FRANCES SARGENT OSGOOD.
Literary Abilities in her Family ............................... 272
Writings under the Signature of" Florence" .................. 272
Marriage to Mr. O->good the Painter .......................... 272
____ 272
Reside
i in Londc
Publishes A Wreath of Wild Flowers from New England 272
Her later Works 272
Her Genius, 273
Farewell too Happy Day 273
"Had we but met" 273
To the Spirit of Poetry 274
Rejections 274
Ltnare 274
The Cocoa -Nut Tree 275
A Mother's Prayer in Illness 275
Little Children 276
A Sermon 276
To a Child Playing with a Watch 276
Labor 277
Garden Gossip 277
To a Friend 277
Kurydice 278
Lady Jane 278
Ida's Farewell 279
To a Dear little Truant, n-ho wouldn't come. Home 279
The Unexpected Declaration 279
Slan-.a,i for Music -^
Tlte F/ovjer Love Letter 280
A Weed 281
Tn Sleep 281
Silent hove ••- - • • • ^^
Beauty's Prayer 281
Dream-Music, or the Spirit Flute 282
New En S lanfi Mountain- Child 283
Ashes of Rosei ***
Xtng , " Its, lower to the level" 2SS
MRS. FRANCES SARGENT OSGOOD, (COSTISUED.)
The Soil's Lament for Home PACK 285
Song, " She loves Him yet".. .
No;
Song, " Should all who throng"
"Hois Tan Sung, Beaumanoir"
Caprice
Song, " I loved an Ideal"
Aspirations
MISS LUCY HOOPER.
Writings und.«r the Signature of " L. H."
Lines written o». visiting Newburyport
Her Works in Prose
Lettei upon her Death, from Dr. John W. Francis
Poem on the same Subject, by J. G. Whittier
Sonnet to her Memory, by H^ T. Tuckerman
Publication of her Literary Remains
The Summons of Death
Time, Faith, Energy
Last Hours of a Young Poeteit
The Turquoise Ring
" Give me Armnr of Proof "
The Cavalier's last Hours
The Daughter of Hcrodias
Evening Thoughts
Linen
The Old Days we Remember
Lines suggested by a Scene in "Master Humphrey's Clock"...
Life and Death
Legends of Flowers
Osceola
MRS. SARAH EDGARTON MAYO.
Her Life arid Writings
The Supremacy of God
The last Lay
The fieggar's Death-Scene
Types of Heaven
The Shadow Child
Udollo
Crossing the Moor
MISS SARAH L. JACOBS.
Ttie Changeless World
Ilenedelta
A }'csper
" Ul,i Amor, Ibi Fides"
MRS. LUELLA J. B. CASE.
The Indian Relic
Energy in Adversity
La Revenante
A Death- Scene
Death leading Age to Repose
MRS. SARAH T. BOLTON.
Lines suggested l>y an Anecdote of S. F. B. Marie
TheSpiraof Truth
Kentucky's Dead
MISS HANNAH J. WOODMAN.
The Annunciation
" When n-i/t tliou love Me?"
MISS SUSAN ARCHER TALLEY.
Compared with Jarne Variety of her Abiliti*
My Sister -
Tlu: Sea- Shell
MRS. RKHECCA S. NICHOLS.
Publishes lin-nice, and other Poems
To my Boy in Heaven
My Sixter Ellen
Farewell of the Soul to the Body
Lament of the Old Year
The Isle <f Dreams
Tlte Shadow •
Little Nell •
The little Flock
Ml
.HI .SM
.••< ;
Mu
.811
i 7
111
• H
.311
.319
.. i
M
. BQ
MRS. JULIA WARD HOWE.
Extract from the Lifeof Schlesinger.byher Brother, Sam. Ward The Beauty of her Poems The Burial of Schlesinger Wordsworth
To a Beautiful Statue
Lees from the r.up of Life
" Sptak, for thy Servant heareth"
A Mother's Fears.
11
CONTENTS.
MRS AM KM. A I! WKI.IiV.
\v, i-i,._. no ;, r UK -,_»i:unre of " Amelm
Publi.itj.Mi ,,f her rot-Mi*
Tli'-ir Cli-ini ler
7V /:„,„>„,„•
/'»//>„• r'J,,,,,ienre
On l-:nten,,K tl,e .M,,mm,*h Cave
Lore
7V Old .M,,id
«o« 325
326
:;n
:;.s
328
329
To a Srn-Shell 329
7V Laxt Interview 3:50
My Sifter* 3:50
TII, I. .n if St,]> Son The I 'moire of Had
331 332
MRS. CATH. VVAHK1KM) ANM) M IIS. ELEANOR T.KE.
Tlie H'.fr ,,/• \.r m, fcc., by " Two <i,ter- of tlie We.st" ....... 333
The India,, Clta ,„/„,; and ot/irr J'ocmt ....................... 3.53
Tl ...... Work. . n!i. i<ed ...................................... 333
Their ..tlier Writings ........................................ 333
..................................................... 334
It,, nk ,,n the 1'rairie ........................................ 335
Lr£,,,d of the Italian Chamber ............................... 3:57
" Sl,e nnuft tii Me" ......................................... 3:59
"lira/kin Dream, nf 1'octry" ............................... 340
..................................................... 340
Tltf lS,rdal' H
The Deserted rloutt..., HISS SUSAK IMNDAK.
The Lady Lcnnorc . Laiiralie
. . . 343 ...343 ...344
Thmighti tn Sfirins-Time
MISS CAROLINE MAY.
H-i Po*m», tc ,
The Sahhath at' the Year
T-i a Student
Semteut
1. On a i-arm Nm-emlier l)iy.. II. On th, t/ijirani-h of Winter. .
III. Thought
IV. ll>i/ie
V. Memnry
Lilie*
Ta Nature....
..... 346 ..... 3-46 ..... 346 ..... 347 _____ 347 ..... 347 ..... 347 ..... 347
.347
AI.H'K »;. IIAVKX.
Write* uncl^i Hi-- Si-nature of "Alice G. Lee" 349
K.IlN Ntafl Saturday Ga-.ette 349
The llrid, 's t'unt'xxion 340
Miilniihi ami Dnyhreuk 341)
Tlie < 'It itrr/t 3^9
H"»'t :ioO
A M,- in in- ii 35j
WltS CAROI.INK H. CUANDr.KH.
Tn mi, Ural her 353
MISS KM/A I.. S1MIOAT.
Tlie /V,.,,,,,,-',- f v.iW 353
A i'en' Sinni Xnnlitiim* 353
'• ' .'."-".".".'384
MIJS. 1IAKKIKT I. IS/.T, (WINSLOW.)
ll'/ii, tins I.,., i 3g4
MliS. .MM II T M. I.. CAMIM5KI.L.
II' r I', uly Culture 355
'. 3S->
356
. - • /' .VI/H r, -e 366
Ml-- M.I-K .M - I ]\i: ]'. \VAKD.
Horn ..I" :tn Hi-torir:il K:in,ily 3;>7
II, T NVri'i.,--, Mini II.T Alpihli.-H 357
A I-',,,,,,;, I Chant /',»• iltt 01,1 \;,,r :;.-)7
-i Old 1'inna 3,-,S
Si''"'" ""I /•'""".'/ 3.r,8
Thf .V,,i and the Sovereign
. :lt .. -)(J
HISS I.ITY I.\|;<-(1M.
A K.I' -torv (iirl ;it I.owcll O^Q
K\tr:n I bum .1. (i. \Vhiiti.-r, r,--j,,-, tj,,; i.er .:w
r'.h-l,,, and li,f ttmgti " " 360
vv /;„,-„;„, /v,,,,,, .....".".".".981
• EDITH M \V."
She wntc- ini'lfr ;i \,n,imr tie J'lnme 3f;.-,
Tlie Clrir.n li-r ol IIIT li'-nim 3
'""
'EDITH MAY," (ros // \tnrm at Tn-ili^ht .
W.)
Juliette. .
Summer
A F'u-fft Srs.ne. A J'oet't Love..
A Son •_' fin- Ant
364 .364 .366
A True Story of ,i Fawn .............................
MISSES FRANCES A. AND MKTTA V. FULLER. Tlieir Writin-s for the " Home Journal" ..............
.3f>7 . 367
The Old Ma,,'* Favorite ..............................
(II.) The I'fift/ioy't Sung .................................
Midn ight _____ .........................................
T)u Silent .Ship .......................................
The Spirit of my Song ................................
MISSES ALICE AND PHfEBE CAREY.
Circiinr<trtT)ce.s unfavorable to their Development ......
Extract from a Letter by Alice Carey .................
Poems of A lice and Phcehf Carey contrasted ...........
(1.) 'Ilie Handmaid ......................................
llinnn of the New Man ..............................
Palestine .............................................
OldSloriet ............................... ! ...........
1'irtnre* of Mem,**, ..................................
The Tiro Msslonat ies ...................
n*i»n, of Light ...................... . ................
}fe/v,, ................................................
The Time to be .......................................
..oro
..370 -.371
..372 . . 372 . . 372 . . 372 ..373 ..373 -.373 ..374 ...374 . . 374
A Legend of St. Mary',
Watching
An Evening Tale
George Biirro»gh*
Light, of Geniuf
Death's Ferryman
Sailor'* Song
To the Evening Zephyr
Minings hy Three Grave*
(II.) The Lorcri;
Beat-in* Life'* Burdens
Resotrcs
Light in Darknert
The Wife of Beitierei '.'.'. .".'.'.'.
Tfte FoUotem of Christ
Sympathy ""
.Son -r a f the Heart
Tlie 1' isoncr'i Last fright
Mtmin-ie.* '.."
Eijitalto Either Fortune
Caming /fame "..."
The Christian Woman
Death Scene ...".
Lyre at tlie Grave
MISS MARY LOCKHART LAWSON.
Lncien IJonapaite'.s Opinion oflier Father
Her English and Scotti.-li Poems
The lianixhed Lover ."
Believe it _"
The Haunted Heart
-.375 ..375 ..376 -.376 -.377 . . 377 ..378 ..378 ..378 -.378 -.379 ..380 ..380 ..381 -.381 ..381 ..382 .383
..383
.384 .384 .384 .386
MRS. MARIA I.OWKI.L.
Ordinal nrid Translated Poems
J,-sn.i and the Dove
The Maiden's Hanest '.'.'.'.'.".'.'.'.'"
S»ng, " Oh, /linl, thnu dartett to the Sim"
Tlie Morning-Glory
MI'.S. SAKA J. LIIM'INCOTT.
Karly Residence in K<x:liester
Writings under tl.e Signature of " Grace Greenwood"""
II -r (;.-mn8
sfriadne
Dreamt
The Last ^</(- ....!."".!."!""."""'"
A l*>rer to his Faithlett Miftret* "..
Hen-eii ta Nina
"Can<t T/,,,1, /••„,•.,,;•" .....I.J"""I!!!""*'
Ini-ifinion t" M>ih,r F.artli
" There wa* a A'-wc" " "
T,,e .V, ,,/;,/0rV Lore ,
.390 .391 .392 .393 .393 .394 .394 .395
A Dr.aiit.
Darkened Hour* '.'.'.'.'.'.'.".'.'.'.
L,>i-r and During
t W nHHf li.de
MISS \NNK H. I'HILI.IPS.
Writes nn.ler the N;,,,,e of" Helen Irvjn»"
.900 .9M .397
-:i9S .3M
Lore a, i,t Fam:. Kina to Kieii-.i. .
CONTENTS.
15
MRS. ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN.
Labi/hood PACK 401
Going to Sleep 401
Loft Behind 401
Endurance 402
Singing in the Rain 402
A Spring Love Song 403
The Amber Rosary 403
October 403
AtLast 404
La*t 404
Forgotten 404
In an Attic 405
October to May 405
Erening 405
Prophecy 405
" My Pearling " 406
When the Leaves are Turning Broirn 406
Consolation 406
A Dream 407
Answer Me 407
The Sparrow at Sea 408
Rock Me to Sleep 408
MRS. ROLLIN COOKE, "ROSE TERRY."
Done For 409
After the Camanches 409
Doubt 409
Cain 410
" Che Sara Sara" 410
Midnight 410
At Last 411
December XXXI . . 411
New Moon 411
Indolence 411
Nemesis 412
Truths 412
A Ch HVs Wish 41 2
The Tu-o Villages 413
Blue Beard's Closet 413
The Iconoclast 413
Semde 414
Departing 414
La, Coquette 414
MRS. ELIZABETH STODDARD.
The Chimney-Swallow'' 8 Idyl 415
Before the Mirror 415
November .415
" Hallo, my Fancy , whither wilt thou go?" 416
On my Bed of a Winter Night 416
The House Inj the Sea, , 416
You Left Me 416
The Poet's Secret 416
A Summer Night 417
The House of Youth 417
The Shadows on the Water Reach 417
Exile 417
A Sea-Side Idyl 418
Unreturning 419
The Colonel's Shield 419
Mercedes 419
The Bull-Fight 420
El Capitano 420
On the Campagna 420
Christmas Comes Again 420
Last Days 421
Memory is Immortal 421
The Message 422
MRS. JULIA C. R. DORR.
Over the Wall 423
•' Earth to Earth " 423
Yesterday and To- Day 424
Agnes 424
Under the Palm Trees 424
The La*t of Six 425
Waiting for Letters 426
Coming Home 426
|
MRS. JULIA C. R. DORR, (CONTINUED.) |
|
|
Hidden Away |
PAGE 427 |
|
Then and Now |
427 |
|
MRS. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. |
|
|
The Old Psalm Tune |
428 |
|
The Other World |
428 |
|
The Secret |
429 |
|
Think not all is Over |
429 |
|
The Crocus |
429 |
|
" Only a Year " |
429 |
|
Midnight |
430 |
|
Second Hour |
430 |
|
A Day in the Pamfili Doria |
430 |
|
The Gardens of the Vatican |
431 |
|
MRS. MARY E. BRADLEY. |
|
|
Peartsease . |
432 |
|
Miqnonnette |
432 |
|
Winter-green |
433 |
|
Beside the Sea |
433 |
|
A Rhyme of the Rain |
434 |
|
IntlieNiyht |
434 |
|
Song |
435 |
|
The Four-leaved Clover |
436 |
|
Irrewtmlle |
436 |
|
Ashet of Roses |
436 |
|
MISS KATE PUTNAM OSGOOD. |
|
|
437 |
|
|
Under the Maple |
437 |
|
The Soid's Quest |
438 |
|
Jimmy |
438 |
|
By the Apple Tree |
439 |
|
Marguerite |
439 |
|
Mother MicJx.ud |
439 |
|
In the Set"! |
440 |
|
440 |
|
|
A Childish Fancy |
441 |
|
Sixteen and Sixty |
441 |
|
Awakened |
441 |
|
442 |
|
|
Sawdust |
|
|
In Clover |
442 |
|
MRS. S. M. B. PIATT. |
|
|
The Fancy Ball |
^43 |
|
Twelve Hours Apart |
443 |
|
To-Day |
443 |
|
Meeting a Mirror |
443 |
|
Earth in Heaven |
444 |
|
Last Words |
444 |
|
The End of the Rainboip |
444 |
|
Two Blush Roses |
445 |
|
Of a Parting • |
445 |
|
A Disenchantment |
445 |
|
Questions of the Hour |
446 |
|
A Walk to my own Grave |
446 |
|
On a Wedding Day |
446 |
|
MRS. LOUI>E CHANDLER MOULTON. |
|
|
The Song of a Summer |
447 |
|
To my Hea rt |
447 |
|
The Spring is Late |
447 |
|
A Woman's Waiting |
|
|
The Singer |
....44S |
|
A Weed |
449 |
|
How Long ? ..-. |
449 |
|
A Problem • • |
449 |
|
May-Flowers • |
449 |
|
MRS. CELIA THAXTER. |
|
|
Expectation |
450 |
|
The Sandpiper |
450 |
|
The Minute-Guns |
450 |
|
Rock Weeds |
451 |
|
A. Sumnvr Day |
451 |
|
November |
452 |
|
Yellow-Bird |
. ...453 |
|
MRS. ADELINE D. T. WHITNEY. |
|
|
Per Tenebras, Lamina |
453 |
16
CONTENTS.
MRS. ADELINE D. T. WHITNEY (CONTINUKD).
BtMndtkt Mink ............... ................. PAGK453
• ................................................ 452
An, thrust ............................................. 454
Released ............................................. 4;->4
};< i uty for Ashfs ..................................... 454
Th,- Three Light* .................................... 454
Sunlight nnd Starlight .................................. 455
Jfenrth-Glow ........................................... 455
••' / ............... ............................... 455
Up in the Wild ....................................... 456
•••'/"/ ........... ............................... 456
The Second Motherhood ................................. 456
The Last Reality ....................................... 455
MRS. HELEN HUNT.
Spinning....^ ....................................... 457
The Prince is Dead .................................... 457
" Spoken " ............................. . .............. 457
Amreetri Wine ......................................... 453
Coronation ............................................. 453
Tryst .................................................. 458
My Strawberry ............................ ........... 459
" Down to Sleep" ...................................... 459
............................. 459
MRS. MARGARET J. PRESTON.
i'ino at Supper ................................... 460
A ndrea's Mistake ..................................... 460
Donna Margherita. .................................... 461
Dorothea's Roses ....................................... 462
In an Eastern Bazaar .................................. 4g3
St. Gregory's Supper ............. ................... 463
The Open Gate .......................................... 454
God's Patience ......................... 464
MISS NORA PERRY.
In June .................................... _^ 465
That Waltz of Von Weber's ............................ 465
Riding Down .................................... " " ' '406
My Lad .y .............................................. 466
.1 nnthrr Year .......................................... 457
After the Ball .......................................... 457
MISS LAURA C. REDDEN.
.Disarmed ............................... 463
Brolcen Off ............................................ 453
!('«/ ,< Out ............................................. 4gg
A Lore. Song of Sorrento ................................ 459
An Empty Ni*t ....................................... '4(59
The Fiellt are Gray with Immortelles .. ............. 470
Xntretfout.
.470
MISS HARRIET McEWEN KIMBALL.
I'i'i Dolorosa 471
My Knowledge 47!
Praying in Sjiirit 471
Humble Service _ _ 47!
MISS HARRIET McEWEN KIMBALL (CONTINUED).
My Friend ....................................... PAGE 472
The Bell in the Tower ................................... 472
AW* Well ............................................. 472
TheGue*t ............................................. 472
MISS EMMA LAZARUS.
In the Jewish Synagogue at Newport ................... 473
On a Tuft of Grass ...................................... 473
Drtams ................................................ 474
Exultation ............................................. 474
Sonnet .................................................. 474
MISS MARIAN DOUGLAS.
My Winter Friend ..................................... 475
Politics ............................................... 475
Wailing .for the May ................................. 475
tfiimney-Top* .......................................... 476
The Yellow Cloud ....................................... 476
The Rope Dancer ....................................... 476
Ant Hills ............................................... 477
The Lost Flowers ............ ........................... 477
One Saturday ........................................... 477
The Song of the Bee .................................... 478
The Year' a Last Flower ................................ 478
* Two Pictures ....... .................................... 478
MRS. LUCY HAMILTON HOOPER.
Revelry ........................... ................... 479
The Duel ................................................ 479
Re-United ............................................. 479
TheKing'sRide ...................................... 480
At the Ball MaUlle ..................................... 480
Touch Not ............................................... 480
MRS. HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD.
A Lovers Garden At Twilight Vanity
481 481
Flower Songs ....... .................................... 482
Peace ..... .......................................... 483
Music in the Night ..................... ............... 483
Hereafter .................. .......................... 433
Daybreak .............................................. 483
Nocturne ............................................... 484
Magdalen ............................................. 434
A Sigh ................................................ 484
Alive ............ . .................................. 484
MISS MARY N. PRESCOTT.
A Lullahy ................................ . ............. 435
Rock. Little Nest ....................................... 435
A Tear .......................... .................... 435
To-Day ................................................ 435
Song ............. . ..................................... 435
Two Moods .......................................... 486
A Song ............................................... 435
Asleep ................................ .................. 486
The Brook ............................. ____ 435
ANNE BRADSTREET.
(Born 1013-Died 1672).
IN the works of Mrs. ANNE BRADSTREET, wife of one and daughter of another of the ear ly governors of Massachusetts, we have illus trations of a genius suitable to grace a dis tant province while the splendid creations of Spenser and Shakspere were delighting the metropolis. A comparison of the pro ductions of this celebrated person with those of Lady Juliana Berners, Elizabeth Melvill, the Countess of Pembroke, and her other pred ecessors or contemporaries, will convince the judicious critic that she was superior to any poet of her sex who wrote in the English language before the close of the seventeenth century.
She was born in 1613, while her father, Thomas Dudley — who had been educated in the family of the Earl of Northampton, and had served creditably with the army in Flan ders — was steward to the Earl of Lincoln, in which situation he remained with a brief in terruption from twelve to sixteen years, and in which he appears to have been succeeded by Mr. Simon Bradstreet, of Emanuel Col lege—subsequently for a short time steward to the Countess of Warwick — who in 1629 married the future poetess, then about six teen years of age, and in the following year came with the Dudley family and other non conformists to New England.
It does not appear that Mrs. Bradstreet had written anything, which has been print ed, before her arrival in America. Here was completed her education, under the care of her husband, and his friends among the learned men who then presided over the society of Cambridge and Boston ; and by her experi ence and observation in this country nearly all her poems seem to have been suggested. The first collection of them was printed at Boston, in 1640, under the title of "Several Poems, compiled with great variety of Wit and Learning, full of delight ; wherein espe cially is contained a compleat Discourse and Description of the Four Elements, Constitu tions, Ages of Man, and Seasons of the Year, together with an exact Epitome of the Three First Monarchies, viz., the Assyrian, Persian,
and Grecian ; and the beginning of the Roman Commonwealth to the end of their last King ; with divers other Pleasant and Serious Po ems : By a Gentlewoman of New England." In 1650 this volume was reprinted in Lon don, with the additional title of " The Tenth Muse, lately sprung up in America ;" and in 1678 a second American edition came from the press of John Foster, of Boston, " cor rected by the author, and enlarged by the addition of several other poems found among her papers after her death."
The writer of the preface to the first edi tion, who was probably her brother-in-law, John Woodbridge, of Andover, says : " Had I opportunity but to borrow some of the au thor's wit, 'tis possible I might so trim this curious work with sucn quaint expressions as that the preface might bespeak thy fur ther perusal ; but I fear 'twill be a shame for a man that can speak so little, to be seen in the titlepage of this woman's book, lest by comparing the one with the other the reader should pass his sentence that it is the gift of the woman not only to speak most but to speak best. I shall have therefore to com mend that, which with any ingenious reader will too much commend the a\ithor, unless men turn more peevish than women and envy the inferior sex. I doubt not but the reader will quickly find more than I can say, and the worst effect of his reading will be un belief, which will make him question wheth er it can be a woman's work, and ask, 'Is it possible V If any do, take this as an an swer, from him that dares avow it : It is the work of a woman, honored and esteemed where she lives, for her gracious demeanor, her eminent parts, her pious conversation, her courteous disposition, her exact dili gence in her place, and discreet managing of her family occasions : and more than so. these poems are the fruit but of some few hours, curtailed from her sleep and other re freshments. . . . This only I shall annex : 1 fear the displeasure of no person in publish ing these poems, but the author, without whose knowledge and contrary to %yhoseei
A.NXE BRADSTREET.
pectation I have presun-ed to bring to pub lic view what she resolved in such a manner should never see the sun."
It is evident, from some lines upon it by Mrs. Bradsireet, that Spenser's Faery Queen wa> not unknown in Massachusetts, but the fashionable poet of that period was Du Bar tas,* translations of whose works, in cum- bn .n.- quartos and folios, were read by every person in the country pretending to taste or pie.\ . ill. ii-h they seem to have evinced little genm-. and still less religion. Among the verses prefixed to Mrs. Bradsireet's volume are some by Nathaniel Ward, of Ipswich, the witty author of The Simple Cobbler of Aga warn, who, puzzled by a comparison of his heroine with the recognised model of the age, declares that —
Mercury showed Apollo Bartas' book, • Minerva this, and wished him well to look And tell uprightly which did which excel : Jle viewed and viewed, and vowed he could not tell.
But .Airs. Bradstreet herself was more mod est, and, in the prologue to r-ne of her longer
piece:-, says —
But when my wondering eyes and envious heart (I real Bartas' sugared lines do but read o'er,
Tool ! I do grudge the muses did not part "J'wivt him and me their overfluent store.
A Bartas can do what a Bartas will —
But simple I, according to my skill.
The "copies of verses" which are prefixed to these poems are curious, not only as indi- c.aiing the position of the author and her as sociations, but as illustrative of the taste and culture of the time in the city which still claims to be our literary capital. Benjamin Wondbridge, the first graduate of Harvard college, exclaims —
Now 1 believe Tradition, which doth call The muses, virtues, graces, females all ; Only they are not nine, eleven, nor three — Our authoress proves them but one unity.
And further on, to his own sex —
In your own arts confess yourselves outdone
The moon doth totally eclipse the sun : Mot with her sable mantle muflling him, But her bright silver makes his -old look dim.
William de_ Salluste dn liartas the mor-f ceiehrated
F'i-'nch poet of his a-c. was Lorn n l.M-l. and died in ..r>!U>. He was the friend and n H'-nri IV., and wrote a canticle upoi
His works were nearly nil. hy vin-ji into Kn-lish. HIM' one of theni. •• (in!
•ii, Hebdornas "etc., pas.-ed through
lions in MX years. The translation which was p'rohahiv
)•• st kno-n in tins country is that of Sylveate :. published
in London, in a thick folio, in
ip.-inirii in arms of his victory of Vvri. us hands, translated elnii Sallu-ti llartas- nore than thirty edi-
iviiicii was probably Sylveate :. published
The learned and pious John Norton, who declared this "peerless gentlewoman" to be " the mirror of her age and glory of her sex," said in a funeral ode that could Virgil hear her works he would condemn his own to the fire, and that —
Praise her who list, yet he shall be a debtor, For art ne'er feigned, nor nature formed, a better'. Her virtues were so great, that they do raise A work to trouble Fame, astonish Praise ; When, as her name doth but salute the ear, Men think that they Perfection's abstract hear. Her breast was a brave palace, a broad street, Where all heroic, ample thoughts did meet; Where Nature such a tenement had ta'en That other souls to hers dwelt in a lane. Beneath her feet pale Envy bites the chain, And poisoned Malice whets her sting in vain. Let every laurel, every myrtle bough, Be stripped for leaves t' adorn and load her brow Victorious wreaths, which, for they never fade, Wise elder times for kings and poets made. J.et not her happy memory e'er lack Its worth in Fame's eternal almanac, Which none shall read but straight their loss deplore And blame their fates they were not born before. Do not old men rejoice their dates did last, And infants too that theirs did make such haste, In such a welcome time to bring them forth That they might be a witness to her worth 1
Dr. Cotton Mather in the Magnalia alludes to her works as a "monument to her mem ory beyond the stateliest marble ;" and John Rogers, one of the presidents of Harvard col lege, addressed to her one of the finest poems written in this country before the Revolution, in which he says: —
Your only hand those poesies did compose ; [flow ;
Your head, the source whence all those springs did Your voice, whence change's sweetest notes arose ; ^ Your feet, that kept the dance alone, I trow ; Then veil your bonnets, poetasters, all : Strike lower amain, and at these humbly fall, And deem yourselves advanced to be her pedestal Should all with lowly congees laurels bring,
Waste Flora's magazine to find a wreath, Or Pineus' banks, 'twere too mean offering.
Your muse a fairer garland doth bequeath To guard your fairer front; here 'tis your name
Shall stand im marbled ; this — your little frame
Shall great Colossus be to your eternal fame.
These praises run into hyperbole, and prove, perhaps, that their authors were more gal hint than critical ; but we perceive from Mrs. Bradstreet's poems that they are not desti tute of imagination, and that she was thor oughly instructed in the best learning of her acre : and from the general and profound re gret manifested on the occasion of her death,
ANNE BRADSTREET.
we may believe she was personally deserv ing of unusual respect.
Her Husband was frequently absent from his home, upon official duties, and several poems which she addressed to him in these periods have the fervor and simplicity of the sincerest passion. In one of them she says : If ever two were one, then surely we ; If ever man were loved by wife, then thee ; If ever wife were happy in a man, Compare with me, ye women, if ye can.
In another, apostrophizing the sun : Phoebus, make haste — the day 's too long — begone ! The silent night's the fittest time for moan. But stay, this once — unto my suit give ear — And tell my griefs in either hemisphere: If in thy swift career thou canst ma-ke stay, I crave this boon, this errand, by the way : Commend me to the man, more loved than life : Show him the sorrows of his widowed wife ; And if he love, how can he there abide ] My interest 's more than all the world beside. . . . Tell him the countless steps that thou dost trace That once a day thy spouse thou mayst embrace, And when thou canst not meet by loving mouth, Thy rays afar salute her from the south ; But for one month, I see no day, poor soul ! Like those far situate beneath the pole, Which day by day long wait for thy arise—
0 how they joy when thou dost light the skies ! Tell him I would say more, but can not well ; Oppress Jd minds abruptest tales do tell.
Now part with double speed, mark what I say, By all our loves conjure him not to stay !
In the prospect of death : How soon, my dear, death may my steps attend, How soon 't may be thy lot to lose thy friend, We both are ignorant ; yet love bids me These farewell lines to recommend to thee, That when that knot's untied that made us one,
1 may seem thine, who in effect am none. And if I see not half my days that's due, What Nature would, God grant to yours and you ; The many faults that well you know I have,
Let be interred in my oblivious grave ;
If any worth or virtue is in me,
Let that live freshly in my memory ;
And when thou feel'st no grief, as I no harms,
Yet love thy dead, who long lay in thine arms ;
And when thy loss shall be repaid, with gains,
Look to my little babes, my dear remains,
And if thou lovest thyself or lovest me, These oh protect from stepdame's injury ! And if chance to thine eyes doth bring this verse, With some sad sighs honor my absent hearse, And kiss this paper, for thy love's dear sake. Who with salt tears this last farewell doth take.
Some of her elegies are marked by similar beauties — as this, upon a grandchild who died in 1665: — Farewell, dear child, my heart's too much content,
Farewell, sweet babe, the pleasure of mine eye, Farewell, fair flower, that for a space was lent,
Then ta'en away into eternity. Blest babe, why should I once bewail thy fate, Or sigh, the days so soon were terminate, Sith thou art settled in an everlasting state 1
By nature, trees do rot when they are grown,
And plums and apples thoroughly ripe do fall, And corn and grass are in their season mown,
And time brings down what is both strong and tall. But plants new set, to be eradicate, And buds new blown, to have so short a date, Is by His hand alone, that nature guides, and fate.
And some verges upon the death of a daugh ter-in-law, in 1669, from which the follow ing is an extract : — And live I still, to see relations gone, And yet survive, to sound this wailing tone t Ah, wo is me, to write thy funeral song Who might in reason yet have lived so long ! I saw the branches lopped, the tree now fall ; I stood so nigh, it crushed me down withal ; My bruised heart lies sobbing at the root, That thou, dear son, hast lost both tree and fruit; Thou, then on seas, sailing on foreign coast, Wast ignorant what riches thou hadst lost, But oh, too soon those heavy tidings fly, To strike thee with amazing misery ! Mrs. Brads'reet died on the 16ih of Septem ber, 1672, in the sixtieth year of her age. Her husband afterward married a sister of Sir George Dunning, and lived to be called the Nestor of New England, dying at Salem in 1697, when he was nearly a century old. Many of Mrs. Bradstreet's descendants have been conspicuous for their abilities. Among them is the noble poet Dana, Avho traces his lineage through one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence.
FROM THE PROLOGUE TO THE FOUR ELEMENTS.
I AM obnoxious to each carping tongue That says my hand a needle better fits ;
A poet's pen all scorn I should thus wrong, For such despite they cast on female wits ;
If what I do prove well, it won't advance- - They'll say, It's stolen, or else it was by chance
But sure, the antique Greeks were far more mild , Else of our sex why feigned they those Nine,
And Poesy made Calliop >'s own child ' So, 'mongst the rest, they placed the arts divine.
20
ANXE BRAUSTREET.
But tliis weak knot they will full soon untie — The (Jp'eks diil naught but play the fool and lie.
Let (J reeks l>e Greeks, and women what they are ;
Men have precedency, and still excel ; 't is but vain unjustly to wage war,
Men can do best, and women know it well; Pre-eminence in each and all is yours, Vet tyrant some small acknowledgment of ours.
And oh, ye high-flown quills that soar the skit's, And ever with your prey .still catch your praise,
If e'er you deign these lowly lines your eyes, (ii\c tiiMiic or parsley wreath: I ask no bays;
This mean and unrefined ore of mine
Will make your glistering gold but more to shine.
EXTRACT FROM CONTKMPL ATIONS.
TIxitr.it the cooling shadow of a stately elm,
Close sat I by a goodly river's side, Where gliding streams the rocks did overwhelm ;
A lonely place, with pleasures dignified. I, once that loved the shady woods so well, .Vow thought the rivers did the trees excel, [dwell. And if the sun would ever shine, there would I
While on the stealing stream I fixed mine eye, Which to the longed-for ocean held its course,
I marked nor crooks nor rubs that there did lie, Could hinder aught, but still augment its force.
" O happy flood," quoth I, « that holdst thy race
Till thou arrive at thy beloved place,
Nor is it rocks or shoals that can obstruct thy pace.
"Nor is't enough that thou alone may'st slide, But hundred brooks in thy clear waves do meet:
Si; hand in hand along with thee they glide To Thetis' house, where all embrace and greet.
Thou emblem true of what I count the best
() could I leave my rivulets to rest!
So may we press to that vast mansion ever blest.
" Ye fish which in this liquid region 'bide.
That for each season have your habitation, Now salt, now fresh, when you think best to glide,
To unknown coasts to give a visitation, In lakes and ponds you leave your numerous fry : So .Nature taught, and yet you know not why— You wat'ry folk that know not your felicity !''
Look how the wantons frisk to taste the air,
Then to the colder bottom straight they dive, Eft soon to .Veptunc's glassy h;dl repair" To see what trade the threat ones there do drive, Who t'oni'jv o'er the spacious sea-irreen field. And take their trembling prey before it yield, Whose armor is their scales, their spreading fins their shield.
While musinnr thus with contemplation fed. And thousand fancies bu/./.in^ in mv brain,
rl'h«' sweet toiiLrued Philomel perch :-d o'er my head, And chanted forth a most melodious strain,
Which rapt me so with wonder and delight, I judged my hearing better than my sight, And wished me wings with her a while to lake my flight.
" 0 merry bird," said I, " that fears no snares ;
That neither toils nor hoards up in thy barn ; Feels no sad thoughts, nor 'cruciating cares
To gain more good, or shun what might thee harm : Thy clothes ne'er wear, thy meat is everywhere, Thy bed a bough, thy drink the water clear, [fear Reminds not what is past, nor what's to come dost
" The dawning morn with songs thou dost prevent*
Sets hundred notes unto thy feathered crew ; So each one tunes his pretty instrument, And warbling out the old, begins anew, And thus they pass their youth in summer season, Then follow thee into a better region, Where winter's never felt by that sweet airy legion."
Man's at the best a creature frail and vain,
In knowledge ignorant, in strength but weak ; Subject to sorrows, losses, sickness, pain,
Each storm his state, his mind, his body break : From some of these he never finds cessation, But day or night, within, without, vexation, Troubles from foes, from friends, from dearest, near'st relations.
And yet this sinful creature, frail and vain,
This lump of wretchedness, of sin and sorrow, This weather-beaten vessel racked with pain, Joys not in hope of an eternal morrow ; Nor all his losses, crosses, and vexation, In weight, in frequency, and long duration, Can make him deeply groan for that divine trans lation.
The mariner that on smooth waves doth glide,
Sin ITS merrily, and steers his bark with ease, As if he had command of wind and tide,
And were become great master of the seas; But suddenly a storm spoils all the sport, And makes him long for a more quiet port, Which 'gainst all adverse winds may serve for fort.
So he that saileth in this world of pleasure, ^ Feeding on sweets, that never bit of the sour,
That's full of friends, of honor, and of treasure
Fond fool ! he takes this earth e'en for heaven's
bower.
But sad alHiction comes, and makes him see Here's neither honor, wealth, nor safety: Only above is found all with security.
O Time, the fatal wrack of mortal things,
That draws Oblivion's curtains over kings
TJieir sumptuous monuments men know them not, Their names without a record are forgot, [dust— Their parts, their ports, their pomps, all laid i' the Nor wit, nor -,ro!d, nor l)iiildinirs, 'scape Time's rust But be whose name is graved in the white stone, Shall last and shine when all. of these are gone!
That is, anticipate.
MERCY WARREN.
(Born 1728 -Died 1815).
THIS woman, once so well known as a poet, and whose historical writings are still consulted as among the most valuable au thorities relating to our revolutionary age, was a sister of the celebrated James Otis and the wife of James Warren, for many years honorably conspicuous in public affairs. She was born in Barnstable, of a family which had been nearly a century in the Plymouth colony, on the 25th of September, 1728. Her youth was passed in retirement, but in hab its and duties suitable for the eldest daugh ter of a gentleman of the first rank in the co lonial society. Her education was directed first by the minister of the parish, and after ward by her brother James, who graduated at Harvard in 1743, and was a thoroughly accomplished scholar. When about twenty- six years of age she was married to Mr. War ren," then a merchant at Plymouth, and it was while residing with him and her children, in after years, near that town, at a place to which she gave the name of Clifford, that she wrote the greater part of her dramatic and miscellaneous poems.
The popular excitement which preceded the separation from England, and the rela tions sustained by her brother and her hus band to the great parties by which the coun try was divided, had a quick and powerful influence upon her ardent and sympathetic spirit, and perhaps nothing would give us a more just impression of the feelings of the time than her eloquent and terse correspon dence with the Adamses, with Jefferson, Dickinson, Gerry, Knox, and other leading characters, upon the aspects and prospects of affairs. Her intercourse with the remark able women who seconded so earnestly the movements of the fathers of the republic, was more intimate, and probably would ad mit us yet further into the secrets and pas sions of the youthful heart of the nation. Her intelligence and patriotism are recog nised by Mrs. Adams, who, in a letter to her written in 1773, remarks: "You are so sincere a lover of your country, and so hearty a mourner in all her misfo:tu:ies, that it will
greatly aggravate your anxiety to hear how much she is now oppressed and insulted. To you, who have so thoroughly looked through the deeds of men, and developed the dark designs of a * Rapatio' soul, no action, however base or sordid, no measure, how ever cruel and villanous, will be a matter of surprise." By " Rapatio" is meant Gov ernor Hutchinson, who is thus designated in The Group, a satirical drama, in two acts, which Mrs. Warren had published, and to which much influence is ascribed in contem porary letters. In the first scene of the sec ond act, in describing the royal governor, she says:
But mark the traitor ! his high crime glossed o'er Conceals the tender feelings of the man, The social ties that bind the human heart : He strikes a bargain with his country's foes, And joins to wrap America in flames, Yet, with feigned pity and satanic grin, As if more deep to fix the keen insult, Or make his life a farce still more complete, He sends a groan across the broad Atlantic, And with a phiz of crococlilean stamp, Can weep and writhe, still hoping to deceive. He cries, The gathering clouds hang thick about her, But laughs within — then sobs, Alas, my country !
And in another place, alluding to the de struction of the tea in Boston harbor :
India's poisonous weed, Long since a sacrifice to Thetis, made A rich" resale. Now all the watery dames May snuff souchong, and sip, in flowing bowls, The higher-flavored choice hysonian stream. And leave their nectar to old Homer's gods.
There is certainly very little poetry in these extracts, or in the piece from which they are taken ; but as reflexions of the common feel ing her satires received the best applause of the day.
Mrs. Warren's residence was changed du ring the Revolution to Milton, Watertown, and other places ; Washington, Lee, Gates, and D'Estaing, were among her occasional guests ; and many of the leading statesmen of New England by her fireside formed plans of the execution of which she subsequently became the historian. Her tragedies were written for amusement, in the solitary hours
MERCY WARREN.
in which her friends wen- sihnuid, and the) :ire :is deeply imbued wilh tin- general spiri as if their characters were acting in thedaili i-xpi-rieiice of the country. They have Hull drainaiie or poetic merit, but m-my passages
are smoothly and some vigorously written
as the fallowing, from The Sack of Rome:
S f S P I C I O N .
I tli ink some latent mischief lies concealed ISeneath the vi/ard of a fair pretence; My In-art ill brooked the errand of the day, Yet I obeyed — though a strange horror seized My Bloomy mind, and shook my frame As if the moment murdered all my joys, n KM on SK.
The bird of death that nightly pecks the roof, Or shrieks beside the caverns of the dead ; Or paler spectres that infest the tombs Of guilt and darkness, horror or despair, Are far more welcome to a wretch like me Than yon bight rays that deck the opening morn.
FORTUNE.
The wheel of fortune, rapid in its flight, La-* not for man, when on its swift routine; Nor does the goddess ponder unresolved: She wafts at once and on her lofty car Lifts up her puppet— mounts him to the skies, Or from the pinnacle hurls headlong down The steep abyss of disappointed hope.
AUDKLIA.
She was, for innocence and truth, For elegance, true dignity, and grace, The fairest sample of that ancient worth Th' illustrious matrons boasted to the world When Kome was famed for every glorious deed.
m.CLIXK OF PUBLIC VIUTUK.
That dignity the gods themselves inspired, When Home, inflamed with patriotic zeal, Louir taught the world to tremble and admire, Lies (hint and languid in the wane of fame, And must expire in Luxury's lewd lap It not supported by some vigorous arm. Or these, from The Ladies of Castile:
CITIl WAII.
'M.mirst. all the ills that hover o'er mankind, Unfeigned, or fabled in the poet's pajre. The blackest scrawl the sister furies hold, For red-e\ed \Vralh or .Malice to (ill up, •Is incomplete to sum up human wo, Till Civil Discord, still a darker fiend. Stalks forth unmasked from his infernal den, With mad Alecto'« torch in his right hand. ' TIIK ecu HAM: or VIIITIK.
^ A soul, inspired by freedom's Denial warmth, hxpands, grows firm, and by resistance, strong; The most successful prince that offers life, •\nd 1'iils me live upon ignoble terms, Shall learn from me that virtue seldom fears. Death kindly opes a tnmisand friendly gates,
tad Freedom waits to guard her votaries through
Appended to her tragedies are several miscellaneous poems, generally in a flowing verse, but frequently marked by bad taste, and rarely evincing any real poetical power or feeling. The following lines are from the beginning of an epistle to a young gentleman educated in Europe : —
SUPKHSTIT1OX,
When ancient Britons piped the rustic lays, And tuned to Woden notes of vocal praise, The dismal dirges caught the listening throng And ruder gestures joined the antique song. Then the gray druid's grave, majestic air, The frantic priestess, with dishevelled hair And flaming torch, spoke Superstition's reign : While elfin damsels dancing o'er the plain, Allured the vulgar by the mystic scene, To keep long vigils on the sacred green.
In A Political Revery, written before the commencement of the war, she gives a view of the future glory of America, and the pun ishment of her oppressors. After a sketch of the first history of the country, she says :
Here a bright form, with soft majestic grace, Beckoned me on through vast unmeasured space Beside the margin of the vast profound, Wild echoes played and cataracts did bound ; Beyond the heights of nature's wide expanse, \V here moved superb the planetary dance. Light burst on light, and suns o'er suns displayed The system perfect Nature's God had laid.
And here the fate of nations is revealed to her. In The Squabble of the Sea-Nymphs is celebrated the destruction of tea in 1774 The following are the concluding lines:
The virtuous daughters of the neighb'ring mead In graceful smiles approved the glorious deed (And though the syrens left their coral beds, Just o'er the surface lifted up their heads, And sung soft paeans to the brave and fair, Till almost caught in the delusive snare To sink securely in a golden dream, And taste the sweet, inebriating stream); J'hey saw delighted from the inland rocks, > er the broad deep poured out Pandora's box • 1 hey jomed, and fair Salacia's triumph sun--- VV ild echo o'er the bounding ocean run" • ° Hie sea-nymphs heard, and all the sportive tram n shaggy tressefl danced around the main 'rom southern lakes down to the northern rills And spread confusion round N hius.
Tin- 1 incs to the Hon. John Winthrop, who on the determination in 1774 to suspend all trade with England except for the real "ne-
cessaries of life," requested a list of articles
|l ladies might comprise under that head
are in the author's happiest vein of satire •—
MERCY WARREN.
THIXGS NECESSARY TO THE LIFE OF A WOXAX.
An inventory clear Of all she needs, Lamira offers here ; Nor does she fear a rigid Cato's frown, When she lays by the rich embroidered gown, And modestly compounds for just enough — • Perhaps some dozens of mere flighty stuff: With lawns and lustrings, blond, and mecklin lace.3, Fringes and jewels, fans and tweezer-cases ; Gay cloaks and hats, of every shape and size, Scarfs, cardinals, and ribands, of all dyes ; With ruffles stamped, and aprons of tambour, Tippets and handkerchiefs at least threescore ; With finest muslins that fair India boasts, And the choice herbage from Chinesan coasts. Add feathers, furs, rich satins, and ducapes, And head-dresses in pyramidial shapes ; Sideboards of plate, and porcelain profuse, With fifty dittoes that the ladies use ; If my poor, treach'rous memory has missed,
Ingenious T 1 shall complete the list.
So weak Lamira, and her wants so few, Who can refuse 1 — they 're but the sex's due. Yet Clara quits the more dressed negligee, And substitutes the careless Polanee, Until some fair one from Britannia's court Some jaunty dress or newer taste import ; This sweet temptation could not be withstood, Though for the purchase's paid her father's blood ; Though earthquakes rattle, or volcanoes roar, Indulge this trifle — and she asks no more : Can the stern patriot Clara's suit deny 1 'Tis Beauty asks, and Reason must comply.
John Adams was perhaps a better oiator than critic. He writes to Mrs. Warren, up on the publication of her poems : " However foolishly some European writers may have sported with American reputation for genius, literature, and science, I know not where they will find a female poet of their own to prefer to the ingenious author of these com positions."
In the dedication of her poems to Wash ington, she says : " Feeling much for the distresses of America in the dark days of her affliction, a faithful record has been kept of the most material transactions, through a period that has engaged the attention both of the philosopher and the politician ; and, if life is spared, a just trait of the most dis tinguished characters, either for valor, vir- *ue, or patriotism, for perfidy, intrigue, in
consistency, or ingratitude, shall be faithful ly transmitted to posterity." The work thus announced was published in three octavo vol umes in 1805, under the title of " The His tory of the Rise, Progress, and Termination of the American Revolution, interspersed with Biographical, Political, and Moral Ob servations." It will always be consulted as one of the most interesting original authori ties upon fhe revolution. It is written with care, an;l in a spirit of independence which is illustrated by her notice of the character of her friend Mr. Adarns, which was so un favorable as to cause a temporary interrup tion of the relations between the two fami lies ; but Mrs. Adams in this case, as in that of her husband's quairel with Mr. Jefferson, finally brought about a reconciliation, which was sealed with a ring which she sent to the historian, containing her own and her hus band's hair.
Mrs. Warren continued to the close of her life to feel a lively interest in affairs, and she was intelligent and honest enough to be al ways a partisan. Though sometimes wrong, as she clearly was in her active opposition to the federal constitution, it was delightful to see even in a woman a contempt for that neutrality in regard to public measures which under a democratic government is invariably the sign of a feeble understanding or of time serving wickedness. The duke de Roche- foucault, in his entertaining Travels in the United States, speaks of her extensive and varied reading, and declares that at seventy she had "lost neither the activity of her mind nor the graces of her person." In her old age she was blind, but she bore the mis fortune with cheerfulness, and continued her intercourse with society. She died in her eighty-seventh year, on the 19th of October, 1814.
There is a portrait of Mrs. Warren, by Copley, in the possession of her family, and an excellent life of her is contained in Mrs Ellens recently published "Women of the Revolution."
ELIZABETH GRAEME FERGUSON.
(Born 1739-Died 1801).
THE most polite and elegant society m this country before the Revolution was probably that of Philadelphia, with its connexions in the southeastern part of the colony, and in Delaware and New Jersey. There were " sol id men" in Boston, there was much real re spectability in New York, and good families were scattered through New England and along the Old Dominion and the Carolinas : but in Philadelphia the distinction of classes was more marked, and the coteries of fash ion larger and more exclusive, than else where in America. Of the first rank here were the Grames, of Grame Park, who by blood, fortune, abilities, and character, were alike entitled to consideration among the pro vincial gentry. Dr. Thomas Grame was a native of Scotland. He was a physician of large acquirements, and the respectability of his origin, his popular manners, and success in the practice of his profession, made him an eligible match for the daughter of Sir William Keith; and his alliance with the governor led to his appointment to the col- lectorship of the customs, which he held for many years.
ELIZABETH GRJEME, the youngest of the four children of Thomas Grame and Anne Keith, was born in Philadelphia in 1739. At an early age she evinced uncommon abil ities, and the chief care of her mother was to educate her mind and heart so that she should illustrate by her intelligence and vir tue th.- highest grade of female character. Much of her youth was passed at Grceme Park, a beautiful country residence, twenty miles from the city, where she was frequent ly visited by her friends, and where her nat urally feeble constitution was so improved, that u-hen she appeared in society, at six teen, the charms of her person were scarcely less distinguished than the u-it and learning which made her a particular star in the me^ tropolitan society. In her seventeenth year she \vas addressed by a young gentleman of tne city, and engaged to be married to him upon his return from London, whither he soon afcer proceeded to complete his educa-
[ tion in the law. This contract for some rea- i son was never fulfilled. To divert ner attea- | tion from the disappointment. Miss Grame | undertook the translation of Fenelon's Te- j lemachus mtc English heroic verse ; and she completed the work, in three years. In an introduction, written in 1769, she ob serves that " she is sensible the translation has little merit," but that " it is sufficient for her that it amused her in a period that would have been pensive and solitary with out a pursuit."
It appears, however, that her health rap idly declined ; and it was determined by her father,* after conferences upon the subject with other physicians, that she should seek its restoration by a sea-voyage and a tempo rary residence in England. She sailed for London under the care of the Rev. Dr. Rich ard Peters, a gentleman of polished manners and elevated character, whose connexions enabled him to secure her introduction to the most eminent persons and to the first circles in the kingdom. She was particularly no ticed by George III. ; she became acquainted with Laurence Sterne and other celebrated wits and men of letters ; and she formed an intimacy with the well-known Dr. Fother- gill, which was maintained by correspon dence until his death. She remained in England a year, during which period she kept a journal, in which she described, with happy vivacity, manners and persons, and the contrasts between English and colonial so ciety.
After her return to Philadelphia she occu pied the place of her mother in her father's family. Every Saturday evening for several years was set apart for the reception of com pany, and on these occasions her pleasino- manners and brilliant conversation were «':»'ises ,.f never-ending admiration to the in-
* It is ivlatcd that her mother ;iss,-nted to Mf^Trw^Tr
from hii: LlShtf°0t *Piehcd 10r *•*« ™so"s ?oa<£;
24
ELIZABETH GR.EME FERGUSON.
telligent society of the city and to the stran gers whose positions or abilities secured for them a presentation at Dr. Graeme's house. At one of these parties she became acquaint ed with Mr. Hugh Henry Ferguson, a young gentleman who had recently arrived in the country from Scotland ; and though he was ten years younger, her personal attractions and the congeniality of their tastes soon led to their marriage. Her father died in a few weeks after, and they retired to Gramme Park ; but the approach of the Revolution, and the adhesion of Mr. Ferguson to the British par ty, in 1775, induced a speedy and perpetual separation.
Mrs. Ferguson's position made her an ob ject of respectful consideration to individuals of both parties during the war. Her domes tic relations were principally with the ene my, but she was by birth a Pennsylvanian, and her old friends, some of whom were leading patriots, treated her wiih kindness. She appears in the public history of the time as the bearer of an extraordinary letter from the celebrated Dr. Duche to General Wash ington, and as the agent by whom Governor Johnstone made those overtures to General Joseph Reed which were answered by the famous declaration — "My influence is but small, but were it as great as Governor John- stone would insinuate, the king of Great Brit ain has nothing in his gift that would tempt me."*
The remainder of Mrs. Ferguson's life was passed chiefly at Graeme Park, in the pur suits of literature, in domestic avocations, and in offices of friendship. Her income was greatly reduced, but her charities were never interrupted, nor was she ever known to mur mur at the changed and comparatively deso late condition of her later years. She cher ished an unhesitating faith in the Christian religion, and was familiar with the masters of divinity. It is related that she transcribed the whole Bible, to impress its contents more deeply in her memory.
More than twenty years after the comple-
* Sparks'* Washington, v. 95, 476 ; William B. Reed's Life of President Reed, i., 381 ; American Remembrancer,
tion of her translation oi Telemachus, she rewrote the four volumes, adding occasional notes and observations. In some memoranda dated at Graeme Park, May 20, 1788, she says of the copy which received her last cor rections: "This is meant for a particular friend, but if I live I intend to give a more correct version, and perhaps, if I meet with encouragement, shall have it printed. I am now quite undetermined as to all my plans in life. I have little reason to think I am to remain here long ; but at present I am at this place with only my old and fai:hful friend Eliza Stedman." "She lived until the 23d of February, 1801, but it does not appear that she ever again revised the work, and it has not yet been printed.
She endeavored to make the translation as literal as the poetical form and the genius of our language would permit ; it is, however, somewhat diffuse, the twenty-four books ma king twenty-nine thousand and six hundred lines. I have read Mrs. Ferguson's manu script (which has been deposited by her heirs in the library of the Philadelphia Libraiy Company), and have compared parts of it with the original and with other translations. She had command of a fine poetical diction, and all the learning necessary for the just apprehension and successful illustration of her author ; and it appears to me that Fene- lon has not been presented in a more correct or pleasing English dress.
Some of the minor poems, and a consider able number of the letters and other composi tions of Mrs. Ferguson, have been published, and they all evince a delicate and vigorous understanding, and an honorable character.
A talent for versification was at that pe riod not uncommon among the educated wo men of the country, but it was principally exercised in the expression of private feeling or for the amusement of particular circles. Some verses by Mrs. Stockton, welcoming Washington to New Jersey, have been pre served by Marshall, and in the monthly mag azines of Philadelphia, New York, and Bos ton, appeared many anonymous poems, evi dently by female authors, which were emi nently creditable to their literary abilities.
ELIZABETH GR^ME FERGUSON.
INVOCATION TO WISDOM.
PREFIXED TO THK AUTHOR'S TRAX-S NATION OF THE ADVENTURES OF TELE.MACHUS.
GRAVE WISDOM, guardian of the modest youth, Thou soul of knowledge and thou source of truth, Inspire my muse, and animate her lays, That she harmonious may chant thy praiso
O could a spark of that celestial fire, Which did thy favored Ft'mMon inspire, Light on the periods of my fettered theme, And dart one radiant, one illumined heam, Then struggling Passion might its portrait view. And learn from thence its tumults to subdue. This was the pious prelate's great design : As rays converged to one bright point combine, So do the fable and the tale unite The path of Truth by Fancy's torch to light ; Each to one noble, generous aim aspires, And the rich galaxy at once conspires To catch the fluttering mind and fix the sense The end can justify the fine pretence, For youthful spirits abstract reasonings shun, And from grave precept void of life they run. Though heathen gods are introduced to si gut, 'T is one Great Being radiates every light : Seen through the medium of ^ lesser ^uide, From one pure fount is each small rill supplied ; Then, rigid Christian, be not too severe, Nor think groat Cambray in an error here.
In parable the holy Jesus taught — Unwound the clue with mystic knowledge fraught. He knew the frailties of man's earthly lot, That truths important were too soon forgot; He screened his purpose in the pleasing tale, Then tore aside the heavenly-woven veil, Showed his design — the perfect, sacred plan — - And raised to angel what he found but man ; By nice gradation in this scale divine The glorious meaning did illustrious shine. Like his mvat Master, pious Cambray taught, And all the good of all mankind he sought: Through his Telemachus he points to view What youth should fly from and what youth pursue. He makes pure. Wisdom leave the realms above To screen a mortal from bewitching love, To lead him through the thorny ways below, And all those arts of false refinement show Which end in fleeting joy and lasting wo ; lie paints uay Venus in tumultuous rage, Yet shows her baflled by the guardian sage, Who draws his pupil from Idalian groves, From blooming Cyprus and from melting loves. Passion and Wisdom hold perpetual strife
Through the strange mazes of man's chequered life
Of all the evils our trail nature knows,
The most acute from Love's emotions flows.
The utmost ellorts of the brave are seen,
To ehe-k the transports of the Paphian queen;
Ylinerva >;i\es an energy of soul
Which does the tide of Passion's rage control,
Nor damps that fire which generous youth should
But only tempers the hi-jh-finished steel: [feel,
For metal softened, polished, and refined,
Is like th' opening of the ductile mind,
Moulded by flame, made pliant to the hand, Turned in the furnace to each just command : This fire is disappointment, grief, and pain, Which, if the soul with fortitude sustain, The furnace of affliction makes more bright; Yet higher burnished in Jehovah's sight, And it at last shall joyfully survey The tangled path to where perfection lay, And bless the briers of life's thorny road That led to peace, to happiness, and God !
THE PROCESSION OF CALYPSO.
FKO.M THE FIRST BOOK OF TELEMACHI79
SHE moved along
Environed by a beauteous female throng. As some tall oak, the wonder of the wood, That long the glory of the grove has stood, Raises its head superb above the rest, Of the green forest stands the pride confest, So does Calypso tower in state supreme, And darts around her an illumined beam. The royal youth doth her soft charms admire, And the rich lustre of her gay attire. Her purple robes hung negligent behind, Her hair in careless ringlets met the wind, Her sparkling eyes shone with a vivid fire, Yet showed no unsubdued, impure desire. With modest silence the young prince pursued At awful distance, cautious to intrude ; With downcast eyes the reverend sage came last : Thus the procession through the green grove past,
At length they reached the rural goddess' grot, And as they entered the delightful spot, Telemachus was much amazed to find How Nature's beauty could allure the mind. An elegant simplicity here reigned, Which all the rules of studied art disdained : No massy gold, no polished silver, glowed, No stone that life in all its passions showed, No lively tints spread vigor o'er a face And spoke the picture's animating grace ; No Doric pillars, no Corinthian style, Rose in the turrets of a lofty pile. Scooped from a rock the concave grotto lay, Where Nature's touches thousand freaks display ; There shells and pebbles the rough sides adorned That ruid method and dull order scorned; A vine luxuriant round its tendrils flung; Beneath its foliage ladoned branches hung. This vernal tapestry careless seemed to hide The craggy roughness of its rocky side; The softest /ephyrs made meridian suns Cool as when JSol his morning progress runs; Meandering fountains stole along the green. And amaranths adorned the sprightly scene; The purple violet shed a richness round, And strewed its beauties on the chequered ground , The flowery rha plots wreath around the lake, And in small basins mimic baths they make; The (lowers that spring and glowing summer yield, In gay profusion ornament the field.
Not very distant from the grotto stood A tufted grove of fragrant vernal wood ;
ELIZABETH GR^ME FERGUSON.
2s.
The tempting fruit shone rich like burnished gold, A dazzling lustre charming to hchold : The blossoms white as pure untrodden snow, Their edges shining with the scarlet's glow ; They bloom perpetual, and perpetual bear, And waft their incense to the yielding air. So close their branches, and so near entwined, They scarcely trembled to the active wind ; No piercing sunbeams could their shades annoy, No busy eye their sacred peace destroy ; No sounds were heard but sprightly birds that sing, And the fleet skylark mounting early wing; A tumbling cascade, in which broken falls Gushed down in torrents from the rocks' sharp walls, But softly gliding ere it met the green, Smooth as a mirror, painted back the scene.
Not on the mountain's top the grot was placed, Nor yet too lowly at its feet debased ; From, all extremes the charming cave was free, At a small distance from the briny sea, Where oft you viewed it, softened, calm, and clear, Like the lulled bosom when no danger's near; Sometimes enraged, its angry waves were found Dashing the rocks and bursting every bound.
Your eyes you turn, and from the other side You see a river roll its ample tide. There scattered islands rose to charm the sight, And by the change of novelty delight ; Lindens fall, blooming, ladencd flowers sustain, And raise their heads in lofty, high disdain ; In wanton circles the smooth fountains run, And gayly glistered in the midday sun ; In rapid motion some their streams unfurled, While others gently with ihe zephyrs curled — By various windings met their former track, And slowly murmuring, crept all lazy back. Then in a distant view in groups were seen Blue, misty mounts, and hills of doubtful green ; Their lofty summits lost above the skies, And like the clouds deluded wandering eyes, As pleasing fancy changed its different mode And whim and caprice did each object robe.
The neighboring mountains were more highly
graced :
There liberal Nature clustering vines had placed ; In noble branches the grand bunches hung, And purple raisins burst beneath the sun ; The foliage sought their lovely charge to hide, Yet the rich grapes shone through in gorgeous pride. Then low beneath, mixed with the golden grain, The fig and olive overspread the plain ; Its tempting fruit the pomegranate displayed, And globes of gold burst through the vernal shade : The wkole retreat was a delightful grove, A soft recess for friendship's sweets or love.
APOLLO WITH THE FLOCKS OF KING ADMETUS.
FROM THE SAME.
BENEATH the shady elms, where fountains played, The listening shepherds here his rest invade ; Th' informing song new polished every soul, But be ii^a^i , ir passions in a soft control. . . .
Swiftly the music and the theme would change To vivid meads where sparkling fountains range, Whose glittering waters the gay plains adorn, And all the rules of art-drawn channels scorn ; Winding they sport : the meadows seem to smile, Their verdure heightened, and enriched their soil, Hence the enraptured swains began to know That joys serene from moral pleasures flow ; The happy rustic pitied' now the king, That could not, like the cheerful shepherd, sing ; Their lowly roofs began the great to draw To view the cottage humbly thatched with straw Courtiers too oft are strangers to delight : They rise unhappy from the restless night ; But here the graces sweetly were arrayed, Here lovely females every charm displayed — Soft Innocence and ever-blooming Health, That cheerful triumph o'er the slaves of wealth ; No torturing envy here the peace invades Of the mild shepherd in the greenwood shades ; Each day superior shone with new delight, And gentle slumbers crowned the sportive wight , The fluttering birds put forth their liveliest notes, And stretched to music their expanded throats ; The fragrant zephyrs undulate the trees, And fan to music the enamored breeze ; The rills pellucid murmured to the sound, And floating harmony rolled all around ; The muses band, the sacred virgin train, Inspired the numbers of the tuneful swain : But not supine they dwell in idle joys; An active vigor, too, their limbs employs : To run, to wrestle, to obtain the prize, And chase the stag as he o'er mountains flies, Was oft the business of a vacant day, As through the green grove they betook their way The gods looked down from great Olympus' height, And almost envied man's supreme delight.
THE INVASION OF LOVE.
FROM THE SEVENTH BOOK OF TELEMACHUS.
CALYPSO dwelt on Cupid's blooming face, And clasped him to her in a fond embrace ; Though goddess born, she feels love's soft alarms As c'ose she strains him in her circling arms
The thoughtless nymphs all felt the subtle flame, But for the strange sensation knew no name, Yet innate modesty and latent fear Whispered some power of wondrous force was near. In si ence they the newborn blaze conceded, And, b'ushing, dreaded it mi?ht be revea'ed , The spreading fire a latent heat imparts And flings its influence o'er their tender hearts. ^
The princely youth, most careless, too, surveyed The jocund sweetness which in Cupid played, Saw all his little freaks with fond surprise, His thou^ht'ess frolics, and his laughing eyes. With pleasing transport his fine features trace,!, And on his knees the little urchin placed, Views a1! the changes in his boyish charm", Nor feels suspicion of impending harms.
ANNE ELIZA BLEECKER.
MRS. ANNE ELIZA BLEECKER, a daughter of Brandt Schuyler, of New York, was born in that city in 1752, and when seventeen years of age was married to John J. Bleecker of New Rochelle. After residing about two years in Poughkeepsie, Mr. Bleecker removed to Tomhanick, a secluded little village eigh teen miles from Albany, where five years were passed in uninterrupted happiness. — Mrs. Bleecker's mother, and her half-sister, Miss Ten Eyck, passed much of the time with her, and her husband saw the fruition of his hopes in the success of plans which had drawn him from the more populous parts of the colony. It w^as in this period that Mrs. Bleecker wrote most of her poems which have been preserved. Before her marriage, her playful or serious verses had amused or charmed the circle in which she moved — o'ie of the most intelligent and accomplished then in America — and she now found a sol ace for the absence of society in the indul gence of a taste for literature. The follow ing extract from one of her poems not only illustrates her style, but gives us a glimpse • if her situation :
From yon grove the woodcock rises,
Mark her progress by her notes ; Hi.^li in air her wings she poises,
Then like lightning down she shoots. INow the whip-poor-will beginning/
Clamorous on a pointed rail, Drowns the more melodious singing
Of the cat-bird, thrush, and quail. Cast, your eyes beyond this meadow,
Painted by a hand divine, And observe the ample shadow Of that solemn ridge of pine. Here a trickling rill depending,
Glitters through the artless bower; And the silver dew descending, Doubly radiates every flower. While I speak, the sun is vanished,
All the gilded clouds are lied, Ah.sie from the groves is banished, i\ ox ions vapors round us spread. Knnil toil is now suspended.
Sleep inv;i,l,.s the peasant's eyes, Each diurnal task is ended,
Wlulo soft Luna climbs the skies. Some lines addressed to Mr. Bleecker while on a voyage down the Hudson, suggest the
(Born 1752-Died 1783).
changes of three quarters of a century in the
„ ~j ,_„ — j __
travel and cuhure a'ong the most beautiful of rivers. She says:
Methinks I see the broad, majestic sheet Swell to the wind ; the flying shores retreat: I see the banks, with varied foliage gay, Inhale the misty sun's reluctant ray ; The lofty groves, stripped of their verdure, rise To the inclemencc of autumnal skies. [wooda Rough mountains now appear, while pendant Hang o'er the gloomy steep and shade the floods ; Slow moves the vessel, while each distant sound The caverned echoes doubly loud rebound. It was a custom for the lazy sloops occasion ally to rest by the hunting-grounds or in the highlands, but she implores her husband not to tempt
Fate, on those stupendous rocks Where never shepherd led his timid flocks,
and dreams that instead of the musket-shot, she can hear —
The melting flute's melodious sound, Which dying zephyrs waft alternate round ; While rocks, in notes responsive, soft complain, And think Amphion strikes his lyre again. Ah ! 'tis my Bleecker breathes our mutual loves, And sends the trembling airs through vocal groves. The approach of the British army under Gen eral Burgoyne, in 1777, was the first event to disturb this repose. Mr. Bleecker left Tomhanick to make arrangements for the re moval of his family to Albany ; but while he was gone, hearing that the enemy was but two miles distant, she hastily started for the city, bearing her youngest child in her arms, and leading the other, who was but four years of age, by the hand. A single domestic ac companied her, and they rested at night in a garret, after a dreary and most exhausting walk through the wilderness. The next morning they met Mr. Bleecker coming from Albany, and returned with him to the city. The youngest of the children died a few days after, and within a month Mrs. Bleecker's mother expired in her arms, at Redhook. The death of her child is commemorated in the following lines, which evince genuine feeling, and are in a very natural style:—
WR1TTKX OX THE IIKTIIKAT FIIOX BURUOYXE.
Was it for this, with thee, a pleasing load,
_ sadly wandered through the hostile wood .
When I thought Fortune's spite could do no more,
ANNE ELIZA BLEECKER.
To see thee perish on a foreign shore 1
Oh my loved babe ! my treasures left behind
Ne'er sunk a cloud of grief upon my mind;
Rich in my children, on my arms I bore
My living treasures from the scalper's power:
When I sat down to rest, beneath some shade,
On the soft grass how innocent she played,
While her sweet sister from the fragrant wild
Collects the flowers lo please my precious child,
Unconscious of her danger, laughing roves,
Nor dreads the painted savage in the groves !
Soon as -the spires of Albany appeared, With fallacies my rising grief I cheered : " Resign^' I bear," said I, '< Heaven's just reproof, Content to dwell beneath a stranger's roof- Content my babes should eat dependent bread, Or by the labor of my hands be fed. What though my houses, lands, and goods, are gone, My babes remain — these I can call my own !" But soon my loved Abella hung her head — From her soft cheek the bright carnation fled ; Her smooth, transparent skin too plainly showed How fierce through every vein tne fever glowed. — In bitter anguish o'er her limbs I hung, I wept and sighed, but sorrow chained my tongue ; At length her languid eyes closed from the day, The idol of my soul was torn away ; Her spirit fled and left me ghastly clay !
Then — then my soul rejected all relief, Comfort I wished not, for I loved my grief: " Hear, my Abella," cried I, " hear me mourn ! For one short moment, oh, my child ! return ; Let my complaint detain thee from the skies, Though troops of angels urge thee on to rise".... My friends press round me with officious care, Bid me suppress my sighs, nor drop a tear; Of resignation talked — passions subdued — Of souls serene, and Christian fortitude — Bade me be calm, nor murmur at my loss, But unrepining bear each heavy cross.
" Go !" cried I, raging, " stoic bosoms, go ! Whose hearts vibrate not to the sound of wo ; Go from the sweet society of men, Seek some unfeeling tiger's savage den, There, calm, alone, of resignation preach — My Christ's examples better precepts teach." Where the cold limbs of gentle Lazarus lay, I find him weeping o'er the humid clay ; His spirit groaned, while the beholders said, With gushing eyes, " See how he loved the dead !" Yes, 'tis my boast to harbor in my breast The sensibilities by God exprest ; Nor shall the mollifying hand of Time, Which wipes off common sorrows, cancel mine.
From this time a pensive melancholy took the place of the quiet gayety that had pre viously distinguished her manners; but her life was not marked by any event of partic ular interest until the summer of 1781, when her husband was taken prisoner by a party of tories, and her sensitive spirit was crushed in despair. She fled to Albany, where he re joined her at the end of a week ; but his sud
den restoration produced an excitement even deeper than that occasioned by his supposed death, and she never regained hei health, no* scarcely her composure. She returned to Tonihanick, and in the spring of 1783 revis ited New York, in the hope that a change of scene and the society of her early friends would restore something of her strength ar.d happiness ; but war had changed the pleas ant places she remembered, and her dearest friends were dead. She went back with her husband to Tonihanick, where she died on the 23d of the following .November. Her last return to her home is commemorated in these pleasing verses:
Hail, happy shades ! though clad with heavy At sight of you with joy my bosom glows ; [snows, Ye arching pines that bow with every breeze, Ye poplars, elms, all hail, my well-known trees ! And now my peaceful mansion strikes my eye, And now the tinkling rivulet I spy ; — My little garden, Flora, hast thou keptj And watched my pinks and lilies while I wept ? Ah me ! that spot with blooms so lately graced, WTith storms and driving snows is now defaced : Sharp icicles from every bush depend, And frosts all dazzling o'er the beds extend ; Yet soon fair spring shall give another scene, And yellow cowslips gild the level green ; My little orchard, sprouting at each bough, Fragrant with clustering blossoms deep shall glow : Oh ! then 't is sweet the tufted grass to tread, But sweeter slumb'ring in the balmy shade ; The rapid humming-bird, with ruby breast, Seeks the parterre with early blue-bells drest, Drinks deep the honeysuckle dew, or drives The lab'ring bee to her domestic hives ; Then shines the lupin bright with morning gems, And sleepy poppies nod upon their stems ; The humble violet and the dulcet rose, The stately lily then, and tulip, blows. . . .
But when the vernal breezes pass away, And loftier Phoebus darts a fiercer ray, The spiky corn then rattles all around, And dashing cascades give a pleasing sounc7! ; Shrill sings the locust with prolonged note, The cricket chirps familiar in each cot ; The village children, rambling o'er yon hill, With berries all their painted baskets fill : They rob the squirrels' little walnut store, And climb the half-exhausted tree for more. Or else to fields of maize nocturnal hie, Where hid, th' elusive watermelons lie Then load their tender shoulders with the prey, And laughing bear the bulky fruit away.
Mrs. Bleecker possessed considerable beau- tv, and she was much admired in society. A collection of her posthumous works, in prose and verse, was published in 1793, and again in 1809, with a notice of her life by her daughter, Mrs Marietta V. Faugeres.
PHILLIS WHEATLEY PETERS.
(Born 1754— Died 1794).
THIS "daughter of the murky Senega], as she is styled by an admiring con:emporar critic, we suppose may be considered as a Americai', since she was but six years of ag when brought to Boston and sold in the slave market of that city, in 1761. If not so grea a poet as the abbe Gregoire contended, sh was certainly a remarkable phenomenon, anc her name is entitled to a place in the histo ries of her race, of her sex, and of our liter alure.
She was purchased by the wife of Mr John Wheatley, a respectable merchant o: Boston, Who was anxious to superintend the education of a domestic to attend upon her person in the approaching period of old age This amiable woman on visiting the market was attracted by the modest demeanor of a little child, in a sort of "fillibeg," who hac just arrived, and taking her home, confided her instruction in part to a daughter, who, pleased with her good behavior and quick apprehension, determined to teach her to read and write. The readiness with which she acquired knowledge surprised as much us it pleased her mistress, and it is probable that but few of the white children of Boston were brought up under circumstances better calculated for the full development of their nat ural abilities. Her ambition was stimulated : she became acquainted with grammar, histo ry , ancien t and modern geography, and astron omy, and studied Latin so as to read Horace with such ease and enjoyment that her French biographer supposes the great Roman had
considerable influence upon her literary tastes
and the choice of her subjects of composition. A general interest was felt in the sooty prodi- g\ ; the best libraries were open to her : and she had opportunities for conversation with ihr most accomplished and distinguished per sons in the city.
Nhe appears to have had but an indifferent physical constitution, and when a son of Mr. Wheatley visited England, in 1772, it was
iecided by the advice of the family physician that Phillis should accompany him for the benefit of i he sea-voyage. In London she
was treated with nearly as much considera tion as more recently has been awarded to Mr. Frederick Douglass. She was intro-? duced to many of the nobility and gentry, and would have been received at court but for the absence of (he royal family from the metropolis. Her poems were published un der the patronage of the Countess of Hun tingdon, wi.h a letter from her master, and the following curious attestation of their gen uineness :
"To THK PUBLIC.— As it has been repeatedly sug gested to the publisher, by persons who have seen the manuscript, that numbers would be ready to sus pect they were not really the writings of Phillis, he has procured the following attestation from the most respectable characters in Boston, that none might have the least ground for disputing their original : \Vc, whose names are underwritten, do assure the vorld that the poems specified in the following page* vere (as we verily believe) written by Phillis, a 'ounur negro-girl, who was, but a few years since, .mm-lit an uncultivated barbarian from* Africa, and las ever since been, and now is, under the disadvan- ;age of serving as a slave in a family in this town. She has been examined by some of the best judges, and is thought qualified to' write them.
HU Excellency THOMAS HI-TOTIIHOX, Governor. The Hon. A.VDRKW OLIVER Lieut Governor
The Hon. Thorn;,, Hnl.hard, The Rev. Cha*. Chnumev. ri. D., I he Hon. John KrviMg, The Rev. Mather IHl,-. j). 1).,
7 he Hon.. Ja.ne- I'.tts. The Rev. Edvv'd I'emhertor., I). D.,
1 he Hon. Hanson Giay. The Rev. Andrew Klhot, ]). I)., • Hon. James Howdoin, The Rev. Samuel Cooper, B. I)., Hancock, Ksq., The Rev. Mr. Samuel Mather,
Jo eph fiicru. K<(j., Hi -hard Carry, K-q .,
The Kev. Mr. John Moorhend Mr. John Wheatiey (her tr.asier).1
In 1774 — the year after the return of Phil is to Boston — her mistress died ; she soon ost her master, and her younger mistress,
his daughter : and the son having married nd settled in England, she was left without protector or a home. The events which mmediately preceded the Revolution now ngrossed the attention of those acquaintan- es who in more peaceful and prosperous mes would have been her friends: and lough she took an apartment and attempt-
d in some way to support herself, she saw
vith fears the approach of poverty, and at st, in despair, resorted to marriage as the ily alternative of destitution.
', who derived his information
rom M. Giraud, the French consul at Bos- n in 1805, states that her husband, in the
' I^^^".^lowin* imge- Allude to the content
30
PHILLIS WHEATLEY PETERS.
31
superiority of his understanding to that of other negroes, was also a kind of phenome non ; that he " became a lawyer, under the name of Doctor Peters, and plead before the tribunals the cause of the blacks ;" and that " the reputation he enjoyed procured him a fortune."* But a later biographer! of Phil- lis declares that Peters " kept a grocery, in Court street, and was a man of handsome person and manners, wearing a wig, carry ing a cane, and quite acting the gentleman ;" that " he proved utterly unworthy of the dis tinguished woman who honored him with her alliance;" that he was unsuccessful in business, failing soon after their marriage, and " was too proud and too indolent to ap ply himself to any occupation below his fan cied dignity." Whether Peters practised physic and law or not, it appears pretty cer tain that he did not make a fortune, and that the match was a very unhappy one, though we think the author last quoted, who is one of the family, shows an undue partiality for his maternal ancestor. Peters in his adver sity was not very unreasonable in demand ing that his wife should attend to domestic affairs — that she should cook his breakfast and darn his stockings ; but she too had cer tain notions of "dignity," and regarded as altogether beneath her such unpoetical oc cupations. During the war they lived at Wilmington, in the interior of Massachu setts, and in this period Phillis became the mother of three children. After the peace, they returned to Boston, and continued to live there, most of the time i-n wretched pov erty, till the death of Phillis, on tne 5th of December, 1794.
Besides the poems included in the editions of 1 773 and 1835, she wrote numerous pieces which have not been printed, one of which is referred to in the following letter from Washington :
"CAMBRIDGE, February 28, 1776. "Miss PHILLIS: Your favor of the 26th of October did not reach my hands till the middle of December. Time enough, you will say, to have given an answer ere this. Granted. But a variety of important occur rences, continually interposing to distract the mind
and withdraw the attention, I hope will apologise for the delay, and plead my excuse for the seeming but not real neglect. 1 thank you most sincerely for your polite notice of me, in the elegant lines you enclosed ; and however undeserving I may be of such encomi um and panegyric, the style and manner exhibit a striking proof of your poetical talents ; in honor of
which, and as a tr1— "- "-1-- J"~ " ' " — 1J
have published the
aULlXiK uruui Ui ^uui JJUCLUJCU LeiirjiiLo , tu nuinji \JL
-hich, and as a tribute justly due to you, 1 would nave published the poem, had I not been apprehen sive that, while I only meant to give the world this
* An Inquiry concerning the Intellectual and Moral Fac ulties and Literature of Nesrroes, followed with an Account of the Lives and Works of Fifteen Ne-roes and Mulattoes, distinguished in Science, Literature, and the Arts : By H. Grfigoire, formerly Bishop of Blois. Member ot the Con servative Senate, of the Institute of France, <fec., <fcc. Trans lated by D. B. Warden, Secretary of Legation, &c. Brook lyn, 16 10
t See memoir prefixed to the edition of her poems pub lished by Light & Ilorton. Boston, W35.
sivt; iimu wniic i Miuj in<_-c*ni/ IA^ ft i » *- mv^ »»
new instance of your genius, I might have incurred the imputation of vanity. This, and nothing else, de termined me not to give it place in the public prints If you should ever come to Cambridge, or near head quarters, 1 shall be happy to see a person so favored by the muses, and to whom Nature has been so lib eral and beneficent in her dispensations. I am, with great respect, your obedient, humble servant,
"GKOHGE WASHINGTON."
In a note to the memoir of Phillis pub lished by one of her descendants, it is stated that after her death, her papers, which had been confided to an acquaintance, were de manded by Peters, and yielded to his impor tunity ; and that Peters subsequently went to the south, carrying with him these papers, which were never afterward heard of. The MSS., however, are still in existence: they are owned by an accomplished citizen of Philadelphia, whose mother was one of the patrons of the author. I learn from this gen tleman that Phillis wrote with singular flu ency, and that she excelled particularly in acrostics and in other equally difficult tricks of literary dexterity.
The intellectual character of Phillis Wheat- ley Peters has been much discussed, but chief ly by partisans. On one hand, Mr. Jefferson declares that " the pieces published under her name are below the dignity of criticism," and that " the heroes of the Dunciad are to her as Hercules to the author of that poem ;" and on the other hand, the abbe Gregoire, Mr. Clarkson, and many more, see in her works the signs of a genuine poetical inspiration. They seem to me to be quite equal to much of the contemporary verse that is admitted to be poetry by Phillis's severest judges ; though her odes, elegies, and other compo sitions, are but harmonious commonplace, ii would be difficult to find in the productions of American women, for the hundred and fif ty years that had elapsed since the death of Mrs. Bradstreet, anything superior in senti ment, fancy, or diction.
— In a portrait of Phillis, prefixed to her poems and declared to be an extraordinary likeness, she is represented as of a rather pretty and intelligent appearance. It is from a picture painted while she was in Lone
32
PHILLIS WHEATLEY PETERS.
ON TIIK DKATH OF THE REV. MR.
<;KOJ«;K \VHITK FIELD.— ITTO.
Hui.. happy saint! on thine immortal throne, Possessed of glory, life, and bliss unknown: ^ «' !"'•" no more the music of thv tongue; Thy wonted auditories cease to throng. Thy sermons in unequalled accents flowed, And every bosom with devotion glowed; Thou didst, in strains of eloquence refined, Inflame the heart, and captivate the mind. Unhappy, we the setting sun deplore, Sj glorious once, but ah ! it shines no more. Behold the prophet in his towering flight! He leaves the earth for heaven's unmeasured height, And worl-ls unknown rece'vc him from our sight. There Whitefield win-rswith rapid course his way, And sails to Zirm through vast seas of day. Thy prayers, great saint, and thine incessant cries, Have pierced the bosom of thy native skies. Thou, moon, hast seen, and all the stars of light, How hi- 1: is wrestled with his God by night. He prayel that -race in every heart might dwell ; He loiued to see America excel; He charged its youth that every grace divine Should with full lustre in their conduct shine. That Savior, which his soul did first receive, The greatest gift that even a God can give, He freely olll-red to the numerous throng That on his lips with list'ning pleasure hung.
" Take him, ye wretched, for your only good, Take him, ye starving sinners, for your food; Ye thirsty, come to this life-giving stream, Ye preachers, take him for your joyful theme; Take hi:n, my dear Americans." he said, ^Be your c -mplaints ,„, his kind bosom laid: Take him. ye Africans, he longs for you; Impartial Savior, is his title due: Washed in the fount. (in of redeeming blood, lou shall he sons, and kinns. and priests to God."
^But though arrested by the hand of death, WhitefieW no more exerts his lab'rin- breath, YtA let us view him in the eternal skies, Let every heart to this bright vision rise; While the t >mb safe retains its sacred trust, Till life divine reanimates his dust
FANCY.
FM,M A POEM ON THK IMAGINATION.
THOUGH Winter frowns, t, Fancy's raptured The fields may flourish, an. I -ay scenes arise; [eyes The tru/cii derps may burst their iron bands, And r»|d their waters murmur o'er the sands. Fair Flor.i m:iy resume her fra-rant rei-n, Ar.d with h-.-r flowery riches de--]< the plain;
Showers ma) descend, and dews their gems disclose,
And nectar sparkle on the blooming rose. . . .
Fancy mi-lit ,10U- ],,,r si||v,>n pinions try To rise from ,.;irth. and sweep the expans - on }uVh ; From Tithon's bed now might Aurora rise, Her cheeks all plowing with celestial dyi-. While a pure stream of li-ht o'erflows' the skies. The mniiar.-h of the day I mLdit heliold. And all the mountains tipped with radiant gold,
But I reluctant leave the pleasing views, Which Fancy dresses to delight the muse; Winter austere forbids me to aspire. And northern tempests damp the rising fire :
They chill the tides of P'ancy's flowing sea
Onse, then, my song, cease then the unequio l
A FAREWELL TO AMERICA.
TO MRS. S. W.
AIIIKU, New England's smiling meads,
Adieu, the flowery plain ; I leave thine opening charms, O Spring
And tempt the roaring main. In vain for me the flow'rets rise, And boast their gaudy pride, While here beneath the northern skies
I mourn for health denied. Celestial maid of rosy hue, Oh let me feel thy reign ! I languish till thy face I view,
Thy vanished joys regain. Susannah mourns, nor can I bear
To see the crystal shower, Or mark the tender falling teat,
At sad departure's hour; Nor unregarding can I see
Her soul with grief opprest , But let no sighs, no groans for me,
Steal from its pensive breast. In vain the feathered warblers sing,
In vain the garden blooms, And on the bosom of the spring
Breathes out her sweet perfumes, While for Britannia's distant shore
We sweep the liquid plain, And with astonished eyes explore
The wide-extended main. Lo J Health appears, celestial dame !
Complacent and serene, With Hebe's mantle o'er her frame,
With soul-delighting mien. To mark the vale where London lies,
With i-iisty vapors crowned, Which cloud Aurora's thousand dyes,
And veil her charms around. Why, Pluebus, moves thy car so slow «
So slow thy rising ray ? Give us the famous town to view,
Thou glorious king of day ! For thee, Britannia, I resign
New En-land's smiling fields; To view narain her charms divine, What joy the prospect yields ! But thou. Temptation, hence away,
AVith all thy fatal train, Nor once seduce my soul away,
By thine enchanting strain. Thrice happy they, whose heavenly shield
Secures their soul from harms, And fell Temptation on the field Of all its power disarms '
SUSANNAH ROW SON.
(Born 1762-Died 1824).
SCPANNAH HASWELL, a daughter of Lieu tenant William Haswell of the British navy, was about seven y ears of age when her father, then a widower, was sent to the New Eng land station, in 1769. After being wrecked on Lovell's island, the family, consisting of the lieutenant, his daughter, and her nurse, were settled at Nantasket, where Haswell married a native of the colony, and resided at the beginning of the Revolution, when, being a half-pay officer, he was considered a prisoner of war, and sent into the interior, and subsequently, by cartel, to Halifax, whence he proceeded to London. His other children were two soris, who became officers in the American navy, in which they were honor ably distinguished.
Miss Haswell, while a child, in Massa chusetts, was often in the company of James Otis, and his sister, Mrs. Warren, who were pleased with her precocity, and careful edu cation, and she won then many encomiums from the great orator, which were remem bered in after years with more delight than all the plaudits of the dress circle or the praises of the critics. She arrived in London about the year 1784, and in 1786 was married there to William Rowson, who was probably in some way connected with the theatre. In the same year she published her first novel, Victoria, which was dedicated to Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, who became her pa troness and introduced her to the Prince of Wales, through whom she obtained a pen sion for her father. She next edited Mary or the Test of Honor, a novel, published in 1785, and wrote, in quick succession, A Trip to Par nassus, A Critique of Authors and Perform ers, The Fille de Chambre, The Inquisitor, Mentoria, and Charlotte Temple, the tale by which she is now chiefly known, of which more than twenty-five thousand copies were sold in a few years.
In 1793 Mrs. Rowson returned to the Uni ted States, and was for three years engaged as an actress, in the Philadelphia theatre. She was pretty and graceful, and was a fa vorite in genteel comedy, but while attentive
to her professional duties, she was still in dustrious as an author, and wrote The Trials of the Heart, a novel ; Slaves in Algiers, an opera; The Female Patriot, a comedy; ar.d The Volunteers, a farce relating to the whiskey insurrection in Pennsylvania. In 1795, while 'temporarily in Baltimore, she wrote The Standard of Liberty, a poetical address to the armies of the United States, which was recited from the stage by Mrs. Whiilock, one of the most accomplished ac tresses of the day, before all the uniformed companies of the city, in full dress. In 1796 she wras engaged at the Federal-street theatre in Boston, where, at the end of a season, she closed her histrionic career, by appearing at her benefit, in her own comedy of The Amer icans in England.
She now opened a school for young wo men, which soon became very popular, so that it was thronged from the West Indies, the British provinces, and all the states of the Union. It was continued at Medford, New ton, and Boston, many years, with uniform success. But the business of instruction did not engross her attention, since she found time to compile a Dictionary and several other school books, and to write Reuben and Rachel, an American novel ; Biblical Dialogues, a work evincing considerable re search and reflection, and a volume of poems, and for two years to sustain a weekly ga zette chiefly by her own contributions. She died in Boston, on the second of March, 1824, in the sixty-second year of her age.
Mrs. Rowson translated several of the oaes of Horace and the tenth Eclogue of Virgil, and she wrote many original songs and other short pieces, of which the most ambiticUo was an irregular poem On the Birth of Ge nius, whicn was once much admired. On ly a few of her -songs are now remembered, and these less for any poetical qualities than for a certain social and patriotic spirit. Ilei " America, Commerce, and Freedom," is one of our few national songs. It would not dishonor a Dibdin, but it bears no marks o* a feminine genius.
SUSANNAH ROWSON.
AMERICA, COMMERCE, AND FREEDOM.
How blest a life a sailor leads,
From clime to clime still ranging ; For as the calm the storm succeeds, The scene delights by changing! When tempests howl along the main,
Some object will remind us, And cheer with hopes to meet again
Those friends we 've left behind us. Then, under snug sail, we laugh at the gale,
And though landsmen look pale, never heed 'em ; But to-;s oiF a glass to a favorite lass, To America, commerce, and freedom !
And when arrived in sight of land,
Or safe in port rejoicing, Our ship we moor, our sails we hand,
Whilst out the boat is hoisting. With eager haste the shore we reach,
Our friends delighted greet us ; And, tripping lightly o'er the beach,
The pretty lasses meet us. When the full-flowing bowl has enlivened the soul,
To foot it we merrily lead 'em, And each bonny lass will drink off a glass To America, commerce, and freedom !
Our cargo sold, the chink we share,
And gladly we receive it ; And if we meet a brother tar
Who wants, we freely give it. No freeborn sailor yet had store, But cheerfully would lend it; And when 'tis gone, to sea for more —
We earn it but to spend it.
Then drink round, my boys, 'tis the first of our joys To relieve the distressed, clothe and feed 'em : Tis a task which we share with the brave and the fair In this land of commerce and freedom !
KISS THE BRIM, AND BID IT PASS.
WHEX Columbia's shores, receding,
Lessen to the gazing eye, Cape nor island intervening
Break th' expanse of sea and sky ; When the evening shades, descending,
Shed a softness o'er the mind, When the yearning heart will wander
To the circle left behind —
Ah, then to Friendship fill the glass, Kiss the brim, and bid it pass.
When, the social board surrounding,
At the evening's slight repast, Often will our bosoms tremble
As we listen to the blast ; ( i a/ing on the moon's pale lustre,
Fervent shall our prayers arise For thy peace, thy health, thy safety,
Unto Him who formed the skies : To Friendship oft we'll fill the glass, K'f«f me brim, and bid it pass.
When in India's sultry climate,
Mid the burning torrid zone, Will not oft thy fancy wander
From her bowers to thine own 1 WThen, her richest fruits partaking,
Thy unvitiated taste Oft shall sigh for dear Columbia,
And her frugal, neat repast:
Ah, then to Friendship fill the glass, Kiss the brim, and bid it pass !
When the gentle eastern breezes
Fill the homebound vessel's sails, Undulating soft the ocean,
Oh, propitious be the gales ! Then, when every danger's over,
Rapture shall each heart expand ; Tears of unmixed joy shall bid thee
Welcome to thy native land :
To Friendship, then, we'll fill the glass, Kiss the brim, and bid it pass.
THANKSGIVING.
AuTtTMW, receding, throws aside
Her robe of many a varied dye, And Winter in majestic pride
Advances in the lowering- sky. The laborer in his granary stores
The golden sheaves all safe from spoil, While from her horn gay Plenty pours
Her treasures to reward his toil. To solemn temples let us now repair, And bow in grateful adoration there ; Bid the full strain in hallelujahs rise, To waft the sacred incense to the skies.
Now the hospitable board
Groans beneath the rich repast — All that luxury can afford
Grateful to the eye or taste ; While the orchard's sparkling juice
And the vintage join their powers; All that nature can produce,
Bounteous Heaven bids be ours. Let us give thanks : Yes, yes, be sure, Send for the widow and the orphan poor ; Give them wherewith to purchase clothes and food This the best way to prove our gratitude.
On the hearth high flames the fire, Sparkling tapers lend their light, Wit and Genius now aspire
On Fancy's gay and rapid flight ; Now the viol's sprightly lay,
As the moments light advance, Bids us revel, sport, and play,
Raise the song, or lead the dance. Come, sportive Love, and sacred Friendship come, Help us to celebrate our harvest home ; In vain the year its annual tribute pours, [hours. Unless you grace the scene, and lead the laughing
MARGARETTA V. FAUGERES.
(Born 1771-Died 18)1).
MARGARETTA V. BLEECKER was a daugh ter of Mrs. Anne Eliza Bleecker, of whose life and writings a notice has been given in the preceding pages.* She was born at Tom- hanick in 1771, and was about twelve years of age when her mother died. Her educa tion, which had thus far been conducted with care and judgment, was continued under the best teachers of New York, where she made her appearance in society, soon after the close of the Revolution, as a highly accomplished girl, of the best connexions, and a liberal for tune. Her home was thronged with suitors, but, with a perversity which is often paral leled, she preferred the least deserving, one Dr. Peter Faugeres, an adventurer who shone in drawing rooms in the flimsy and worn-cut costume of French infidelity, and him, in op position to the wishes of her faiher, she mar ried. Mr. Bleecker died in 1795, and Fau- geres squandered the estate, and treated his wife in a scandalous manner, until 1798, when she was relieved of his presence by the yellow fever. It seems, from some allusions in her poems to the wretch Thomas Pamelas well as from her admiration of Faugeres, that she had a deeper sympathy with the vulgar skep ticism of the time than was possible fora woman who united much capacity with vir tue ; bu observation of its tendencies had perhaps led her to reflection, and she now came to believe that an inquiring and trust ing spirit is quite as profound as one that doubts and despises. She became a teacher in an academy at New Brunswick, but her constitution was broken and her mind enfee bled by her misfortunes, and she died, in the twenty-ninth year of her age, in Brooklyn, on the ninth of January, 1801.
Mrs. Faugeres in 1793 edited the posthu mous works of her mother, to which she ap pended several of her own compositions, in prose and verse. In 1795 she published Belisarius, a tragedy, in five acts, which is spoken of in the preface as her " first dramat ic performance," as if she contemplated the
*Ante, p. 28.
devotion of her attention to this kind of liter ature ; and in the third number of the New York Weekly Magazine, for the same year, is an extract from a MS. comedy by her, but this appears never to have been printed.
Belisarius* was evidently suggested by the fine romance of Marmontel, but Mrs. Fau geres combines the tradition of the putting out of the eyes of the great Byzantine, with that of Theophanes and Malala, that after a short imprisonment he was restored to his honors. Though unsuited to the stage, this tragedy has considerable merit, and is much superior to the earlier compositions of the author. The style is generally dignified and correct, and free from the extravagant decla mation into which the subject would have seduced a writer of less taste and judgment. We have but a glimpse of the private in trigues that are revealed in the secret his tory by Procopius. Some time after the mar riage of Belisarius to Antonina, they are re ferred to in conversation between Arsaces, a Bulgarian noble, and Julia, the niece of Justinian, of whom Belisarius had been a lover :
Arsaces. My darling Julia, drop these vain regrets, For B disarms is no longer thine : Is he not wedded 1
Julia. Too sure he is, and therefore I will weep, For he was mine, and naught but wicked craft E'er rent him from my bosom. Oh, my love! Oh, my betrothed love ! how are we severed ! Cursed be the monsters of iniquity Who thus have burst the tenderest bonds asunder Affection ever knew ! Thou art betrayed : Dungeons, and poverty, and shame, are thine And everlasting blindness ; while I, deserted,
Roam round the world
In the second act Belisarius appears, accord ing to the narrative of Tzetzes, in the char-
* Of BelisHrius there were probably printed only enough copies for subscriber.*, and it is now anioiiu the rarest ot American books. While making a collection of nearly eteht hundred volumes of pot- try and verses written in this country. I never saw it : mid Unnlap, who was a very indHStrJnu- collector of plays, alludes to it in his History of the American Theatre, as a work which had eluclec his research. It is not in any of our public libraries— which indeed, are amoni.' the last places to be examined for American literature— and the only copy I have «een— the one now before me— is from the curious collecr-.a ct Henry A. Brady, Esq.
36
MARGARETTA V. FAUGERES.
aeter of a beggar, and in wandering through the country he is thus introduced to Gelimer, the captive king of Carthage, whom he him self had long before brought in triumph to Byzantium :
Gehnier, at daybreak, in a gar.lf-n.— Enter Amala, Ins wife.
A mala. T is yet too soon to labor, love ; come, sit. This air Mows fresh, and those sweet, bending flow- Heavy with dew, shed such a fragrance round, [ers, And so melodious sings the early lark, 'T would be a pity not to enjoy the hour. Come, sit upon this sod. See, the mom breaks In streams of quivering light upon the hills, And the loose clouds, in changeful colors gay, Now tinged with crimson, and with amber now, Sail slow along the brightening horizon.
Gelimer. Yes, my Amala, 't is a lovely morn, And might inspire me with these calm ideas, But that my thoughts are dwelling on the stranger, Who claimed your hospitality, last night.
You said he was a soldier — old, and poor
And that excites compassion ; for I grieve To see a veteran, who has spent his strength In the big perils of uncertain war, Far from his home, his country, and his friends ; Who oft has slept upon the frozen earth, And suffered grievous vvant....That he, whose age Has made him bald, and chilled his sickly veins, And rendered him quite useless to himself, Should be turned out upon the world, adrift, To seek a scanty sustenance from alms !.... 'T is much to be lamented.
In the following scene the degraded chiefs recognise each other, and Belisarius relates the story of his barbarous punishment:
Bel. When I first heard it my full heart beat slow, My wonted fortitude forsook me; and when I thought It was Juxtinian. that urged the blow, Casting my hopeless eyes to yon bright heaven, As 'twere to take a lasting leave of light, lining my hands, and bathed me in my tears. The executioner, touched with my sorrows, Sank on the ground and cried, « You are undone ! \\ retched old man. why does your heart not break, And Lrivc you a release from such a wo!" But it is past, and, tranquil as the flood When gently kissed by Twilight's softliest gale, My spirit rests, and scarce consents to weep When Memory would the piteous tale recall.
That most striking virtue of Belisarius, which appeared to Gibbon "above or below the character i.f a man," is happily illustra ted, though by incidents that would seem very extraordinary were the historians upon ibis point less explicit and particular. The Prince i.-f Bulgaria en<Wvors to enlist the blind old -eneral against the By/aiitinrs, and causes his proposals to be accompanied with a flourish of martial instruments, to •enow in him
— the memory of past scenes,
When his proud steed, champing his golden bit, fiore him o'er heaps of slaughtered enemies, While vanquished thousands at his presence knelt And kissed the dust o'er which the conqueror rode.
Belisarius says, declining —
Shall I now
Sully the glories of a long life's toil, And justify the cruelty of my foes 1
And then —
— Music, such as lulls my wayward cares, Is often heard within the peasant's hamlet, What time gray Twilight veils the eastern sky, When the blithe maiden carols rustic songs To soothe the infirmities of peevish age, Or, when the moon shines on the dew-gemm'd plain, Attunes her voice to chant some lightsome air For those who dance upon the tufted green. Such are the strains I love, and such as float On the cool gale from a far mountain's side, Where some lc:ie shepherd fills his simple pipe, Calling the echoes from their dewy beds, To chase mute sleep away. Ah ! blessed is he If bis choice melody be ne'er disturbed By the death-breathing trumpet's woful tone.
Prince. If thou wert ever thus averse to war, General, why didst thou fight ]
Bel. To purchase peace, not to extend dominion. Peace was the crown of conquest.
The heroine of the piece is the empress The- odosia, who in the third act inquires of her creature Barsames the result of his last ef forts to detect a conspiracy :
Theouosia. Did you see Phsedrus ]
Barsames. Yes : but he did not know me. He sat upon a heap of mouldering bones With his shrunk hands, thus, folded on his breast ; And his sunk eyes were fixed on the ground Half shut, and o'er his bosom streamed his beard, Hoary and long. I twice accosted him Ere he regarded me ; then, looking up, He eyed me with a vague and senseless gaze, And heaving a most lamentable sigh, Dropped his pale face upon his breast again.
T/teo. I' 11 go myself, this moment, and give ordera For his removal to some cheerful place, Where kind attendance, and my best physician,
May woo his scattered senses back again
When Reason rises cloudless in his brain, Embracing courteous Hope, then I will go
And break the vain enchantment
This will be sweet revenge ! Then let him try If tlie bright wit that jeered a woman's foibles Will light the dungeon where her fury dwells !
After the publication of Belisarius, Mrs. Failures was an occasional contributor to the New York Monthly Magazine, and some other periodicals. She appears to have been a favorite among her literary acquaintances, and is frequently referred 'to in their pub lished poems in terms of sympathy and ad miration.
MARGARETTA V. FAUGERES.
THE HUDSON.
FROM A POE.M PUBLISHED IN 1793.
NILE'S beauteous waves and Tiber's swelling tide
Have been recorded by the hand of Fame, A ad various floods, which through earth's channels glide,
From some enraptured bard have gained a name : E'en Thames and Wye have been the poet's theme,
And to their charms has many a harp been strung, Whilst, oh ! hoar Genius of old Hudson's stream,
Thy mighty river never has been sung ! Say, shall a female string her trembling lyre,
And to thy praise devote the adventurous song 1 Fired with the theme, her genius shall aspire,
And the notes sweeten as they float along
Through many a blooming wild and woodland green
The Hudson's sleeping waters winding stray ; Now mongst the hills its silvery waves are seen,
Through arching willows now they steal away : Now more majestic rolls the ample tide,
Tall waving elms its clovery borders shade, And many a stately dome, in ancient pride
And hoary grandeur, there exalts its head. There trace the marks of Culture's sunburnt hand,
The honeyed buckwheat's clustering blossoms
view — Dripping rich odors, mark the beard-grain bland,
The loaded orchard, and the flax-field blue ; The grassy hill, the quivering poplar grove,
The copse of hazel, and the tufted bank, The long green valley where the white flocks rove,
The jutting rock, o'erhung with ivy dank : The tall pines waving on the mountain's brow,
Whose lofty spires catch day's last lingering beam ;
The bending willow weeping o'er the stream, The brook's soft gurglings, and the garden's glow.
Low sunk between the Alleganian hills,
For many a league the sullen waters glide,
And the deep murmur of the crowded tide With pleasing awe the wondering voyager fills. On the green summit of yon lofty clift
A peaceful runnel gurgles clear and slow, Then down the craggy steep-side dashing swift,
Tumultuous falls in the white surge below. Here spreads a clovery lawn its verdure far,
Beyond it mountains vast their forests rear, And long ere Day hath left her burnished car,
The dews of night have shed their odors there. There hangs a lowering rock across the deep ;
Hoarse roar the waves its broken base around ; Through its dark caverns noisy whirlwinds sweep,
While Horror startles at the fearful sound. The shivering, sails that cut the fluttering breeze,
Glide through these winding rocks with airy
sweep, Beneath the cooling glooms of waving tre<js,
And sloping pastures specked with fleecy sheep.
VERSES
ADDRESSED TO THF MK.M I! F.RS OF THE CT.VCISN \ 1 1 OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK ON THE 4TH OF JULY
COME, round Freedom's sacred shrine, Flowery garlands let us twine ; And while we our tribute bring, Grateful paeans let us sing : Sons of Freedom, join the lay — 'Tis Columbia's natal day !
Banish all the plagues of life, Fretful Care and restless Strife , Let the memory of your woes Sink this day in sweet repose ; Even let Grief itself be gay On Columbia's na:al day.
Late a despot's cruel hand Sent oppression through your land ; Piteous plaints and tearful moan Found not access to his throne ; Or if heard, the poor,. forlorn, Met but with reproach and scorn.
Paine, with eager virtue, then Snatched from Truth her diamond pen — Bade the slaves of tyranny Spurn their bonds, and dare be free. Glad they burst their chains away : 'Twas Columbia's natal day !
Vengeance, who had slept too long, Waked to vindicate our wrong ; Led her veterans to the field, Sworn to perish ere to yield : Weeping Memory yet can tell How they fought and how they fell !
Lured by virtuous Washington — Liberty's most favored son — Victory gave your sword a sheath, Binding on your brows a wreath Which can never know decay While you hail this blissful day.
Ever be its name revered ;
Let the shouts of joy be heard
From where Hampshire's bleak winds blow,
Down to Georgia's fervid glow ;
Let them all in this agree :
" Hail the day which made us free !"
Bond your eyes toward that shore Where Bellona's thunders roar : There your Gallic brethren see Struggling, bleeding to be free ! Oh ! unite your prayers that they May soon announce their natal day.
O thou Power ! to whom we owe All the blessings that we kuow, Strengthen thou our rising youth, Teach them wisdom, virtue, truth — That when we are sunk in clay, They may keep this glorious day !
ELIZA TOWN SEND.
(Born 1789-Died 1854).
ELIZA TOWNSEND, descended from a stock that for two centuries lias occupied a distin guished and honorable position in American society, was the first native poet of her sex whose writings commanded the applause of judicious critics; — the first whose poems evinced any real inspiration, or rose from the merely mechanical into the domain of art. The late Mr. Nicholas Biddle, whose judgment in literature was frequently illus trated by the most admirable criticisms, once mentioned to me that a pri/e ode which Miss Towrfsend wrote for the Port Folio while he himself was editor of that miscellany, soon after the death of Dennie, was in his opinion the finest poem of its kind which at that time had been written in ihis country, and many of her other pieces received the best approval of the period, but, as she kept her authorship a secret, without securing for her any personal reputation.
She was born in Boston, and her youth was passed in the troubled times which suc ceeded the Revolution, when our own coun try was distracted by the strifes of parties, and Europe was convulsed with the tumult uous overthrows of governments whose sub jects had caught from us the spirit of liberty. She sympathized with the feelings which weie popular in New England, in regard both to our own and to foreign affairs, as is shown by her Occasional Ode, written in June, 1809, in which Napoleon is denounced- with a vehemence mid power which remind us of the celebrated ode of Soul hey, written nearly five years afterward, during the negotiations of 181 1. This poem was first printed in the seventh volume of the Monthly Anthology, and though it hears the marks of hash com position, in some minute defects, it is alto- ' gether a line performance. The splendid ge nius of Napoleon was not yet revealed in all its magnificence even to those who were the immediate instruments of his will, but to all mankind his name \\ a> a word of division, and in this country those whose opinions were fruits of anything else th/m passion were commonly led by a conser 'alive spirit
to distrusl the man and to credit the worst views of his actions. This was most true in Boston, where, at the beginning of Mr. Madison's administration, Miss Townsend's ode was probably deemed noi less just than poetical.
Among the pieces which she published about this time was Another Castle in the Air, suggested by Professor Frisbie's agree able poem referred to in its title ; Stanzas commemorative of Charles Brockden Brown ; Lines on the Burning of the Richmond The atre ; and a poem to Southey, upon the ap pearance of his Curse of Kehama. At a later period she published several poems of a more religious cast, by one of which, The Incom prehensibility of God, she is best known. Of this, the Rev. Dr. Cheever remarks, that " it is equal in grandeur to the Thanatopsis of Bryant," and that " it will not suffer by com parison with the most sublime pieces of Wordsworth or of Coleridge."
Miss Townsend has not written, at least for the public, in many years, and there has been no collection of the poems with which, in the earlier part of this cenlury, she en riched The Monthly Anthology, The Port Folio, The Unitarian Miscellany, and other periodicals which were then supported by the contributions of the youthful Adams. Allston. Buckminster, Webster, Ticknor, Greenwood, Edward Channing, Alexander Everett, and others of whose early hopes the fulfilment is written in our intellectual history. Such a collection would undoubtedly be well re ceived.
There is a religious and poetical dignity, with all the evidences of a fine and richly- cultivated understanding, in most of the po ems of Miss Townsend, which entitle her to be ranked among the distinguished liter ary women who were her contemporaries, and in advance of all who in her own coun try preceded her.
She is still living, in a secluded manner, with her sister, also maiden, in the old fam ily mansion in Boston. They are the last of their race.
38
ELIZA TOWNSEND.
AN OCCASIONAL ODE.
WRITTEN IN JUNE, 1809
FIRST of all created things,
God's eldest born, oh tell me, Time ! E'er since within that car of thine, Drawn by those steeds, whose speed divine, Through every state and every clime,
Nor pause nor rest has known, Mongst all the scenes long since gone by Since first thou opedst thy closeless eye, Did its scared glances ever rest Upon a vision so unblest, So fearful, as our own 1 If thus thou start'st in wild affright At what thyself hast brought to light, Oh yet relent ! nor still unclose New volumes vast of human woes. Thy bright and bounteous brother, yonder Sun, Whose course coeval still with thine doth run, Sickening at the sights unholy, Frightful crime, and frantic folly, By thee, presumptuous ! with delight Forced upon his awful sight, Abandons half his regal right, And yields the hated world to night. And even when through the honored day He still benignly deigns to sway, High o'er the horizon prints his burnished tread, Oft calls his clouds, With sable shrouds, To hide his glorious head ! And Luna, of yet purer view, His sister and his regent too, Beneath whose mild and sacred reign Thou darest display thy deeds profane, Pale and appalled, has frowned her fears, Or veiled her brightness in her tears ; While all her starry court, attendant near, Only glance, and disappear. But thou, relentless ! not in thee These horrors wake humanity : Though sun, and moon, and stars combined, Ne'er did it change thy fatal mind, Nor e'er thy wayward steps retrace, Nor e'er restrain thy coursers' race, Nor e'er efface the blood thou'dst shed, Nor raise to life the murdered dead. Is't not enough, thou spoiler, tell ! That, subject to thy stern behest,
The might of ancient empire fell, And sunk to drear and endless rest 7 Fallen is the Roman eagle's flight, The Grecian glory sunk in night, And prostrate arts and arms no more withstand : Those own thy Vandal flame and these thy conq'ring Then be Destruction's sable banner furled, [hand. Nor wave its shadows o'er the modern world ! In vain the prayer. Still opens wide, Renewed, each former tragic scene Of Time's dark drama ; while 'beside Grief and Despair their vigils keep, And Memory only lives to weep
The mouldering dust of what has been.
How nameless now the once-famed earth, That gave to Kosciuszko birth — • The pillared realm that proudly stood, Propped by his worth, cemented by his blood!
As towers the lion of the wood O'er all surrounding living things, So, mid the herd of vulgar kings,
The dauntless Dalecarlian stood. " Pillowed by flint, by damps enclosed," Upon the mine's cold lap reposed,
Yet firm he followed Freedom's plan; " Dared with eternal night reside, And threw inclemency aside," .
Conqu'ror of nature as of man ! And earned by toils unknown before, Of Blood and Death, the crown he wore. That radiant crown, whose flood of light Illumined once a nation's sight — Spirit of Vasa ! this its doom 1 Gleams in a dungeon's living tomb !
Where'er the frightened mind can fly, But nearer ruins meet her eye.
Ah ! not Arcadia's pictured scene Could more the poet's dream engage,
Nor manners more befitting seem The vision of a golden age, Than where the chamois loved to roam Through old Helvetia's rugged home, Where Uri's echoes loved to swell To kindred rocks the name of Tell, And pastoral girls and rustic swains Were simple as their native plains. Nor mild alone, but bold the mind, The soldier and the shepherd joined — The Roman heraldry restored, The crook was quartered with the sword. Their seedtime cheerful labor stored, Plenty piled their vintage board, Peace loved, their daily fold to keep, Contentment tranquillized their sleep — Till through those giant Guards of Stone,* Where Freedom fixed her " mountain-throne, Battle's bloodhounds forced their way And made the human flock their prey !
Is it Fact, or Fancy tells,
That now another mandate 's gone ] Hark ! even now those fated wheels
Roll the rapid ruin on ! Lo, where the generous and the good,
The heart to feel, the hand to dare : Iberia pours her noblest blood,
Iberia lifts her holiest prayer ! The while from all her rocks and vales
Her peasant bands by thousands rise . Their altar is their native plains,
Themselves the willing sacrifice. While UK, the « strangest birth of time, ' Red with gore, arid grim with crime, Whose fate more prodigies attend, And in whose course mire terrors blend, And o'er whose birth more portents lowei, Than ever crowned, In lore renowned,
* The Alps.
40
ELIZA TOWNSEND.
The Macedonian's natal hour!
IS'ow here, now there, he takes his stand,
The rtabiished earth his footsteps jar; Goads l> the lii^ht his vassal band, M hile ebbs or Hows, at his command,
The torrent of the war !
Could the hard, whose powers suhlime
Scaled the heights of epic glory, \nd rendered in immortal rhyme
Of Rome's disgrace the hlushing story — Where, formed of treason and of woes, Pharsalia's gory genius rose — Might he again Renew the strain
That once his truant muse had charmed, Each foreign tone
Unwaked had lain ; And patriot Spain
And Spain, alone The Spaniard's patriot heart had warmed !
Then had the chords proclaimed no more His deeds, his death, renowned of yore ; Who,* when each lingering hope was slain, And Freedom fought with Fate in vain, Lone in the city, and reft of all, While Usurpation stormed the wall, The tyrant's entrance scorned to see — But died, with dying Liberty.
Those chords had raised the local strain ; That hard a filial flight had ta'en ; Forgot all else : The ancient past, Thick in Ohlivion's mists o'ercast, Or past and present both combined Within the graspings of his mind ; In what now is, viewed what hath been ; The dead within the living seen : Owned transmigration's strange control, In Spaniards owned the Cato soul ; And wailed in tones of martial grief The valiant band and hero chief, Who shared in Saragossa's doom, ^nd made their Utica their tomb ! Bright be the amaranth of their fame ! May Palafox a Lucan claim ! That bard no more had filled his rhymes With Cajsar's greatness. ( 'a>sar's crimes: Another Cajsur waked the string, Alike usurper, traitor, king. Another ( \vsar ! rashly said ! Forgive the falsehood, mighty shade! Molest Julius' treasons, still we know The faithful friend, the generous foe; And even enmityt could see Some virtues of humanity.
But thou ! by what, accurs'd name Shall we denote thy features here?
In records of infernal fame
When- shall we find thy black compeer ?
Then, whose perfidious might of mind
Nor pity moves nor faith can bind,
* '''In1 younger Cnto.
" I lis enemies confess '•'bw virtues of humanity are Cigar's." — AD. CATO.
Whose friends, whose followers vainly crave That trust which should reward the brave; Whose foes, mid tenfold war's alarms, Dread more thy treachery than thine arms : The Ishmaelite, mid deserts bred, Who robs at last whom first he fe.l, The midnight murderer of the guest With whom lie shared the morning's feast — This Arab wretch, compared with thee, Is honor and humanity !
And shall that proud, that ancient land,
In treasure rich, in pageant grand,
Land of romance, where sprang of old
Adventures strange, and champions bold,
Of holy faith, and gallant fight,
And bannered hall, and armored knight,
And tournament, and minstrelsy,
The native land of chivalry ! —
Shall all these " blushing honors" bloom
For Corsica's detested son ]
These ancient worthies own his sway —
The upstart fiend of yesterday 1
Oh, for the kingly sword and shield
That once the victor monarch sped, What time from Pavia's trophied Held
The royal Frank was captive led ! May Charles's laurels, gained for you,
Ne'er, Spaniards, on your brows expire • Nor the degenerate sons subdue
The conqu'rors of their nobler sire ! None higher mid the zodiac line
Of sovereigns and of saints you claim, Than fair Castilia's star could shine,
And brighten down the sky of fame. Wise, magnanimous, refined, Accomplished friend of human kind, Wlio first the Genoese sail unfurled — The mighty mother of an infant world, Illustrious Isabel ! — shall thine, Thy children, kneel at Gallia's shrine]
No ! rise, thou venerated shade,
In Heaven's own armor bright arrayed,
Like Pallas to her Grecian band ;
Nerve every heart and every hand ;
Pervious or not to mortal sight,
Still guard thy gallant offspring's right,
Display thine aegis from afar,
And lend a thunderbolt to war !
God of battles ! from thy throne, God of vengeance, aid their cause :
Make it, conqu'ring One, thine own !
'Tis faith, and liberty, and laws. *
'T is for these they pour their blood —
The cause of man. the cause of God!
Not now avenge. All-righteous Power,
Penivia's red and ruined hour:
Nor man-led Montezuma's head,
^or Gunfamo/iifs burning bed,
"Nor uive the guiltless up to fate
For Cort s' crimes, Pizarro's hate!
Thou, who beholdst, enthroned afar,
Beyond the vision of the keenest star,
Far through creation's ample round,
The universe's utmost bound :
ELIZA TOWNSENL).
•41
Where war in other shape appears, The destined plague of other spheres, Other Napoleons arise To stain the earth and cloud the skies ; And other realms in martial ranks succeed, Fight like Iberians, like Iberians bleed. If an end is e'er designed The dire destroyers of mankind, Oh, be some seraphim assigned To breathe it to the patriot mind. What Brutus bright in arms arrayed, What Corde bares the righteous blade ! Or, if the vengeance, not our own, Be sacred to thine arm alone, When shall be signed the blest release And wearied worlds refreshed with peace Oh, could the muse but dare to rise Far o'er these low and clouded skies, Above the threefold heavens to soar, And in thy very sight implore ! —
In vain while angels veil them there,
While Faith half fears to lift her prayer, The glance profane shall Fancy dare 1 Yet there around, a fearful band, Thy ministers of vengeance stand : .
Lo, at thy bidding stalks the storm ; The lightning takes a local form; The floods erect their hydra head ; The pestilence forsakes his bed ; Intolerable light appears to wait, And far-off darkness stands in awful state !
For thee, O Time !
If still thou speedst thy march of crime 'Gainst all that's beauteous or sublime, Still provest thyself the sworn ally And author of mortality —
Infuriate Earth, too long supine, Whilst demon-like thou lovedst to ride, Ending every work beside,
Shall live to see the end of thine — Her great revenge shall see ! By prayer shall move th' Almighty power To antedate that final hour When the Archangel firm shall stand Upon the ocean and the land — His crown a radiant rainbow sphere, His echoes seven-fold thunders near — The last dread fiat to proclaim : Shall swear by His tremendous name, Who formed the earth, the heavens and sea, TIME shall no longer be !
TO ROBERT SOUTHEY.
VVHITTEN IN 181-2.
O THOTT, whom we have known so long, so well, Thou who didst hymn the Maid of Arc, and framed Of Thalaba the wild and wondrous song ; And in thy later tale of Times of Old, Remindest us of our own patriarch fathers, The Madocs of their age, who planted here The cross of Christ — and liberty — and peace ! Minstrel of other climes, of higher hopes, And holier inspirations, who hast ne'er
From her high birth debased the goddess Muse,
To grovel in the dirt of earthly things ;
But learned to mingle with her human tones
Some breathings of the harmonies of heaven !
Joyful to meet thee yet again, we hail
Thy last, thy loftiest lay ; nor chief we thank thee
For every form of beauty, every light
Bestowed by brilliancy, and every grace
That fancy could invent and taste dispose.
Or that creating, consummating power,
Pervading fervor, and mysterious finish,
That something occult, indefinable.
By mortals genius named ; the parent sun
WThence all those rays proceed ; the constant foum
To feed those streams of mind ; th' informing soul
Whose infl lence all are conscious of, but none
Could e'er describe ; whose fine and subtle nature
Seems like th' aerial forms, which legends say
Greeted the gifted eye of saint or seer,
Yet ever mocked the fond inquirer's aim
To scan their essence !
Such alone, we greet not. Since genius oft (so oft, the tale is trite) Employs its golden art to varnish vice, And bleach depravity, till it shall wear The whiteness of the robes of Innocence t And Fancy's self forsakes her truest trade, The lapidary for the scavenger ; And Taste, regardful of but half her province, Self-sentenced to a partial blindness, turns Her notice from the semblance of perfection, To fix its hoodwinked gaze on faults alone — And like the owl, sees only in the night, Not like the eagle, soars to meet the day.
Oblivion to all such ! — For thee, we joy Thou hast not misapplied the gifts of God, Nor yielded up thy powers, illustrious captives, To grace the triumph of licentious Wit.
Once more a female is thy chosen theme ; And Kailyal lives a lesson to the sex, How more than woman's loveliness may blend With all of woman's worth ; with chastened love, Magnanimous exertion, patient piety, And pure intelligence. Lo ! from thy wand Even faith, and hope, and charity, receive Something more filial and more feminine.
Proud praise enough were this ; yet is there more : That neath thy splendid Indian canopy, By fairy fingers woven, of gorgeous threads, And gold and precious stones, thou hast enwrapped Stupendous themes that Truth divine revealed, And answering Reason owned : naught more sub- Beauteous, or useful, e'er was charactered [lime, On Hermes' mystic pillars— Egypt's boast, And more, Pythagoras' lesson, when the ma/e Of hieroglyphic meaning awed the world !
Could Music's potent charm, as some believed Have warmth to animate the slumbering dead, And « lap them in Elysium," second only To that which shall await in other worlds, How would the native sons of ancient India Unclose on thee that wondering, dubious eye, Where admiration wars with incredulity ! Sons of the morning ! first-born of creation . What w >uld they think of thee— thee, one of us
ELIZA TO vVNSEND.
Sprung fro :M ;i Liter race, on whom the ends
Of ihisour world have come, that thou shouldstpen
What \ 'aranasi's* venerable towers
In all their pride and plenitude of power,
Ere Conquest spread her bloody banner o'er them,
Or Ruin trod upon their hallowed walls,
Could ne'er excel, though stored with ethic wisdom,
And epic minstrelsy, and sacred lore !
For there, Philosophy's Gantamif first
Taught man to measure mind ; there Valmic hymn'd
The conquering armsof heaven-descended Rama ;
And Calidasa and Vyasa there,
At dillerent periods, but with powers the same,
The Sanscrit song prolonged — of Nature's works,
Of human woes, and sacred Chrishna's ways.
That it should e'er be thine, of Europe born,
To sing of Asia ! that Hindostan's palms
Should bloom on Albion's hills, and Brama'sVedasJ
Meet unconverted eyes, yet unprofaned !
And those same brows the classic Thames had bath'd
Be laved by holy Ganges ! while the lotus,
Fig-tree, and cusa, of its healing banks,
Should, with their derva's vegetable rubies,
Be painted to the life !. ...Not truer touches,
On plane-tree arch above, or roseate carpet,
Spread out beneath, were ever yet employed
When their own vale of Cashmere was the subject,
Sketched by its own Abdalh, i !
He, || too, of thine own land, who long since found A refuge in his final sanctuary, From regal bigotry — could thy voice reach him, • His awful shade might greet thee as a brother In sentiment and song ; that epic genius, From whom the sight of outward things was taken By Heaven in mercy — that the orb of vision Might totally turn inward — there concentred On objects else perhaps invisible, Requiring and exhausting all its rays; Who (like Tiresias, of prophetic fame) Talked with Futurity ! — that patriot poet, Poet of paradise, whose daring eve Explored "the living throne, the sapphire blaze," " But blasted with excess of light," retired, And left to thce to compass other heavens And other scenes of being ! —
Bard beloved
Of all who virtue love — revered by all That genius reverence — SOUTHET ! if thou art "Gentle as bard beseems," and if thy life Be lovely as thy lay, thou wilt not scorn This rustic, wreath; albeit 'twas entwined Beyond the western waters, where I sit And bid the \\inds that wait upon their surges, Bear it across them to thine island-home. Thou wilt not. scorn the simple leaves, though culled Fiom that traduced, insulted spot of earth, Of which thy contumelious brethren oft Frame fables, full as monstrous in their kind As e'er M michausen knew — with all his falsehood, Guiltless o" all his wit! Not such art thou — Surely thou art not, if, as Rumor tells, Thyself in the high hour of hopeful youth
* The folK'ur of Hcnaivs
t Supposed iht: earliest founder of a philosophic school
' Sacred books of the Hindoos. || .Milton.
Had cherished nightly visions of delight, And day-dreams of desire, that lured thee on To see these sister states, and painted to thee Our frowning mountains and our laughing vales The countless beauties of our varied lakes, The dim recesses of our endless woods, Fit haunt for sylvan deities ; and whispered How sweet it were in such deep solitude, Where human foot ne'er trod, to raise thy hut, To talk to Nature, but to think of man. Then thou, perchance, like Scotia's darling son, Hadst sung our Pennsylvanian villages, Our bold Oneidas, and our tender Gertrudes, And sung, like him, thy listeners into tears. Such were thy early musings : other thoughts, And happier, doubtless, have concurred to fix thee On Britain's venerated shore ; yet still Must that young thought be tenderly remembered, Even as romantic minds are sometimes said To cherish their first love — not that 'twas wisest,
But that 'twas earliest If that morning dream
Still lingers to thy noon of life, remember, And for its own dear sake, when thou shalt hear (As oft, alas ! thou wilt) those gossip tales, By Jazy Ignorance or inventive Spleen, Related of the vast, the varied country, We proudly call our own — oh ! then refute them By the just consciousness that still this land Has turned no adder's ear toward thy Muse That charms so wisely ; that whene'er her tones, Mellowed by distance, o'er the waters come, They meet a band of listeners — those who hear W7ith breath-suspending eagerness, and feel With feverish interest. Be this their praise, And sure they '11 need no other ! Such there are, Who, from the centre of an honest heart, Bless thee for ministering to the purest pleasure That man, whilst breathing earthly atmosphere, In this minority of being, knows — That of contemplating immortal verse, In fit communion with immortal Truth !
THE INCOMPREHENSIBILITY OF GOD.
WHERE art thou ? — THOU ! source and support That is or seen or felt ; thyself unseen, [of all Unfelt, unknown — alas, unknowable ! I look abroad among thy works — the sky, Vast, distant, glorious with its world of suns — Life-giving earth, and ever-moving main, And speaking winds— and ask if these are thee! The stars that twinkle on, the eternal hills, The restless tide's outgoing and return, The omnipresent and deep-breathing air — Though hailed as gods of old, and only less, Are not the Power I seek; are thine, not thee! I ask thee from the past : if, in the years, Since first intelligence could search its source, Or in some former unremembered being, (If such, perchance, were mine), did they behold And next interrogate Futurity, rthee 1
So fondly tenanted with better things Than e'er experience owned — but both are muto , And Past and Future, vocal on all else,
ELIZA TOWNSEND.
48
So full of memories and phantasies, Are deaf and speechless here ! Fatigued, I turn From all vain parley with the elements, [ward And close mine eyes, and bid the thought turn in- From each material thing its anxious guest, If, in the stillness of the waiting soul, He may vouchsafe himself — Spirit to spirit ! 0 Thou, at once most dreaded and desired, Pavilioned still in darkness, wilt thou hide thee 1 What though the rash request be fraught with fate, Nor human eye may look on thine and live 1 Welcome the penalty ! let that come now, Which soon or late must come. For light like this Who would not dare to die ]
Peace, my proud aim,
And hush the wish that knows not what it asks. Await His will, who hath appointed this, W'ith every other trial. Be that will Done now, as ever. For thy curious search, And unprepared solicitude to gaze On Him — the Unrevealed — learn hence, instead, To temper highest hope with humbleness. Pass thy novitiate in these outer courts, Till rent the veil, no longer separating The Holiest of all — as erst, disclosing A brighter disponsation ; whose results Ineffable, interminable, tend Even to the perfecting thyself — thy kind — Till meet for that sublime beatitude, By the firm promise of a voice from heaven Pledged to the pure in heart !
ANOTHER "CASTLE IN THE AIR."
« To ME, like Phidias, were it given To form from clay the man sublime,
And, like Prometheus, steal from heaven The animating spark divine !"
Thus once in rhapsody you cried : As for complexion, form, and air,
No matter what, if thought preside, And fire and feeling mantle there.
Deep on the tablets of his mind
Be learning, science, taste, imprest ;
Let piety a refuge find
Within the foldings of his breast.
Let him have suffered much — since we, Alas ! are early doomed to know,
A.11 human virtue we can see Is only perfected through wo.
Purer the ensuing breeze we find
When whirlwinds first the skies deform ,
And hardier grows the mountain hind Bleaching beneath the wintry storm.
But, above all, may Heaven impart
That talent which completes the whole — The finest and the rarest art — •
To analyze a woman's soul. Woman — that happy, wretched being,
Of causeless smile, of nameless sigh, So oft whose joys unbidden spring,
So oft who weeps, she knows not why !
Her piteous griefs, her joys so gay, All that afflicts and all that cheers ;
All her erratic fancy's play,
Her fluttering hopes, her trembling fears.
With passions chastened, not subdued,
Let dull inaction stupid reign ; Be his the ardor of the good,
Their loftier thought and nobler aim.
Firm as the towering bird of Jove, The mightiest shocks of life to beu* ;
Yet gentle as the captive dove, In social suffering to share.
If such there .be, to such alone
Would I thy worth, beloved, resign ;
Secure, each bliss that time hath known Would consummate a lot like thine.
But if this gilded human scheme Be but the pageant of the brain.
Of such slight " stuff" as forms our " dream. Which, waking, we must seek in vain.
Each gift of nature and of art
Still lives within thyself enshrined ;
Thine are the blossoms of the heart, And thine the scions of the mind !
And if the matchless wreath shall blend With foliage other than its own,
Or, destined not its sweets to lend, Shall flourish for thyself alone —
Still cultivate the plants with care ;
From weeds, from thorns, oh keep them free Till, ripened for a purer air,
They bloom in immortality !
AMERICAN SCENERY.
FROM A POEM ON THE DKATH OF CHARLES BHOCKDEN BKOWX.
THOUGH Nature, with unsparing hand, Has scattered round thy favored land ^ Those gifts that prompt the aspiring aim, And fan the latent spark to flame : Such awful shade of blackening woods, Such roaring voice of giant floods, Cliffs, which the dizzied eagles flee, Such cataracts, tumbling to the sea, That in this lone and wild retreat A Collins might have fixed his scat, Called Horror from the mountain's brow, Or Danger from the depths below — And then, for those of milder mood, Heedless of forest, rock, or flood, Gay fields, bedecked with golden grain, Rich' orchards, bending to the plain, Where Sydney's fairy pen had foiled, Which Mantuan Maro's muse had hailml Yet, midst this luxury of scone, These varied charms, this graceful mien Canst thou no hearts, no voices, raise, Those charms to feel, those charms to praise
LAVINIA STODDARD.
(Born 1787-Died 1820).
LAVIXIA STONE, a daughter of Mr. Elijah Stone, was born in Guilford, Connecticut, on the twenty-ninth of June, 1787. While she was an infant her father removed to Pat- erson, in New Jersey, and here she received, besides the careful instructions of an intelli gent and judicious mother, such education in the schools as was at the time common to the children of farmers. In 1811 she was married to Dr. William Stoddard, a man of taste and liberal culture, of Stratford, in Connecticut, and in the then flourishing vil lage of Troy, on the Hudson, they established an academy, which they conducted success fully for several years. Mrs. Stoddard was attacked with consumption, and about the year 1S18 she removed with her family to Blakeley, in Alabama, where Dr. Stoddard soon after died, leaving her among strangers
and in poverty. Partially recovering her own health, she revisited Troy ; but the se verity of the climate induced her to return to Blakeley, where she died in 1820.
Mrs. Stoddard wrote many poems, which were printed anonymously in the public jour nals, or addressed privately to her acquaint ances. She was a woman of piety, benevo lence, and an independent temper; and the fine poem entitled The Soul's Defiance, her brother has informed me, " was interesting to her immediate friends for the truthfulness with which it portrayed her own experience and her indomitable spirit, which never quailed under any circumstances." This was written in a period of suffering and with a sense of injury. It is the last of her compo sitions, and perhaps the best. It is worthy of George Herbert.
THE SOUL'S DEFIANCE.
F SAID to Sorrow's awful storm,
That beat against my b east, Ratio on — thou mnyst destroy this form,
And lay it low at rest; But still the spirit that now brooks
Thy tempest, raging high, Uudaunted on its fury looks,
With steadfast eye.
I said to Penury's meagre train,
Come on — your threats I brave ; My last poor life-drop you may drain,
And crush me to the grave ; Yet still the spirit that endures
Shall mock your force the while, And meet each cold, cold grasp of yours
With hitter smile.
I paid to cold Neglect and Scorn,
Pass on — I heed you not ; Yc may pursue me till my form
And being are forgot ; Vet still the spirit, which you see
Undaunted by your wiles, Draws from its own nobility
Its highborn smiles.
I said to Friendship's menaced blow, Strike deep — my heart shall bear;
Thou canst but add one bitter wo To those already there ;
Yet still the spirit that sustains
This last severe distress, Shall smile upon its keenest pains,
And scorn redress. I said to Death's uplifted dart,
Aim sure — oh, why delay T Thou wilt not find a fearful heart —
A weak, reluctant prey ; For still the spirit, firm and free,
Unruffled by this last dismay, Wrapt in its own eternity,
Shall pass away.
SOXQ.
ASK not from me the sportive jest,
The mirthful jibe, the gay reflection , These social baubles fly the breast
That owns the sway of pale Dejection. Ask not from me the changing smile,
Hope's sunny glow, Joy's glittering token, It can not now my griefs beguile —
My soul is dark, my heart is broken ! Wit can not cheat my heart of wo,
Flattery wakes no exultation, And Fancy's flash but serves to show
The darkness of my desolation. By me no more in masking guise
Shall thoughtless repartee be spoken ; My mind a hopeless ruin lies —
My soul is dark, my heart is broken ! 44
HANNAH F. GOULD.
(Born 1788-Died 1865).
Miss GOULD is a native of Lancaster, in the southern part of Vermont. Her father was one of the small company who fought m the first battle of the Revolution, and in the face of all the privations and discourage ments of that long and of.en hopeless Avar remained in the army until it was disbanded. In The Scar of Lexington, The Revolution ary Soldier's Request, The Veteran and the Child, and several other pieces, we suppose she has referred to him ; and it is probably but a versification of a family incident in which an old man, relating the story of his weary campaigns, says to a child — " I carried my musket, as one that must be But loosed from the hold of the dead, or the free. And fearless I lifted my good, trusty sword, In the hand of a mortal, the strength of the Lord."
Miss Gould's history is in a peculiar degree and in a most honorable manner identified with her father's. In her youth he removed to Newburyport, near Boston, and for many years before his death, (for the touching poem entitled My Lost Father, in the last volume of her writings, we presume had reference to that went,) she was his house keeper, his constant companion, and the chief source of his happiness.
Miss Gould's poems are short, but they are frequently nearly perfect in their kind. Nearly all of them appeared originally in annuals, magazines, and other miscellanies, and their popularity has been shown by the
subsequent sale of several collective editions. The first volume she published came out in 1832, the second in 1835, and the third in 1841 ; and a new edition, embracing many new poems, is now (1848) in preparation.
Her most distinguishing characteristic is sprightliness. Her poetical vein seldom rises above the fanciful, but in her vivacity there is both wit and cheerfulness. She needs apparently but the provocation of a wider social inspiration to become very cle ver and apt in jcux d' esprit and epigrams, as a few specimens which have found their way into the journals amply indicate. It is however in such pieces as Jack Frost, The Pebble and the Acorn, and other effu sions devoted to graceful details of nature, or suggestive incidents in life, that we rec ognise the graceful play of her muse. Often by a dainty touch, or lively prelude, the gen tle raillery of her sex most charmingly re veals itself, and in this respect Miss Gould manifests a decided individuality of genius.
Miss Gould seems as fond as JEsop or La Fontaine of investing every thing in nature with a human intelligence It is surprising to see how frequently and how happily the birds, the insects, the trees and flowers and pebbles are made her colloquists. Her poems could be illustrated only by some such in genious