Billeder på siden
PDF
ePub

I loved thee passing well;-thou wert a beam
Of pleasant beauty on this stormy sea,
With just so much of mirth as might redeem
Man from the musings of his misery;
Yet ever pensive,-like a thing from home!
Lovely and lonely as a single star!

But kind and true to me, as thou hadst come
From thine own element-so very far,
Only to be a cynosure to eyes

Now sickening at the sunshine of the skies!

It were a crime to weep!-'tis none to kneel,
As now I kneel, before this type of thee,
And worship her, who taught my soul to feel
Such worship is no vain idolatry :-

Thou wert my spirit's spirit-and thou art,
Though this be all of thee time hath not reft,
Save the old thoughts that hang about the heart,
Like withered leaves that many storms have left;
I turn from living looks-the cold, the dull,
To any trace of thee-the lost, the beautiful!

Broken, and bow'd, and wasted with regret,
I gaze, and weep-why do I weep alone!
I would not-would not, if I could-forget,
But I am all remembrance-it hath grown
My very being!-Will she never speak?
The lips are parted, and the braided hair
Seems as it waved upon her brightening cheek,
And smile, and everything-but breath-are there!
Oh, for the voice that I have staid to hear,
-Only in dreams,-so many a lonely year!

It will not be ;-away, bright cheat, away!

[ocr errors][merged small]

Mr Montgomery cannot write anything, however slight, that is not pregnant with piety. Common-place truths are so presented in the following singular little poem, as to strike the heart like a knell. This is the triumph of genius. Nature, whence sprang thy glorious frame?

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

Q. Flowers, wherefore do ye bloom?
A. We strew thy pathway to the tomb.

Q. Stars, wherefore do ye rise?
A. To light thy spirit to the skies.

Q. Fair moon, why dost thou wane?
A. That I may wax again.

[blocks in formation]

Q.

[blocks in formation]

Where art thou, proud ATLANTIS, now? Where are thy bright and brave? Priest, people, warriors' living flow? Look on that wave!

Crime deepen'd on the recreant land,

Long guilty, long forgiven; There power uprear'd the bloody hand, There scoff'd at Heaven.

The word went forth-the word of woe-
The judgment-thunders pealed;
The fiery earthquake blazed below;
Its doom was seal'd.

Now on its halls of ivory

Lie giant weed and ocean slime, Burying from man's and angel's eye The land of crime.

Mr Ackermann was, we believe, among the first of the booksellers who published volumes of this kind in England, and we strongly recommend his "Forget me Not," both on that account and its own intrinsic merits, which are great and manifold.

We come now to speak of "Friendship's Offering," and its new editor, Mr Hervey. But first let Mr Hervey speak for himself:

"The present Volume of the FRIENDSHIP'S OFFERING' is presented to the public, under circumstances which render a few observations necessary. It has, very recently, come into its present Editor's hands, with a view to an entire change in its character and plan; and, under the disadvantage of that fact, he has, of course, found it impossible to avail himself of all those sources which he has reason to believe are open to him,

next year, for giving interest to its pages. The difficulties of his situation have, however, been greatly relieved, by the kindness and promptitude with which assistance has been given to him, in almost every quarter in which the limited time permitted an application :—and, whilst he has thus been enabled to present to the public, on the present occasion, a very splendid assemblage of names and talent, -the promises which he has received of continued and additional assistance, next year, afford reason to hope that it will have still increased claims to popularity.

"The readers of the FRIENDSHIP'S OFFERING,' will perceive that the alterations in its plan consist in the removal of all those features which marked it as more peculiarly adapted for one season of the year than another; and in the dismissal of its more toy-like attributes, for the purpose of combining, with the increased beauty of its embellishments, a high literary character.

"Whilst acknowledging his obligations to the many friends who have given him the use of their names and talents, the Editor may escape the imputation of personal vanity, in expressing his confidence that the Work has attained the character at which it aimed; because little merit can be due to him, for the moral or literary excellence of a miscellany, which has been fortunate enough to obtain such contributions as those which fill the pages of this volume.'

[ocr errors]

Mr Hervey has acquitted himself admirably in his editorial capacity; and, like Mr Watts, is himself one of his own very best contributors. There is much passion-much poetry in the following fine stanzas:

TO THE PICTURE OF A DEAD GIRL, ON FIRST SEEING IT. THE same-and oh, how beautiful!-the same As memory meets thee through the mist of years!Love's roses on thy cheek, and feeling's flame Lighting an eye unchanged in all-but tears! Upon thy severed lips the very smile Remember'd well, the sunlight of my youth; But gone the shadow that would steal, the while, To mar its brightness, and to mock its truth!Once more I see thee, as I saw thee last, The lost restored,—the vision of the past!

How like to what thou wert-and art not now!
Yet oh, how more resembling what thou art!
There dwells no cloud upon that pictured brow,
As sorrow sits no longer in thy heart;

Gone where its very wishes are at rest,

And all its throbbings hush'd, and achings heal'd ;—

I gaze, till half I deem thee to my breast,

In thine immortal loveliness, reveal'd,

And see thee, as in some permitted dream,

There where thou art what here thou dost but seem!

I loved thee passing well;-thou wert a beam
Of pleasant beauty on this stormy sea,

With just so much of mirth as might redeem
Man from the musings of his misery;
Yet ever pensive,-like a thing from home!
Lovely and lonely as a single star!

But kind and true to me, as thou hadst come
From thine own element-so very far,
Only to be a cynosure to eyes

Now sickening at the sunshine of the skies!

It were a crime to weep!-'tis none to kneel,
As now I kneel, before this type of thee,
And worship her, who taught my soul to feel
Such worship is no vain idolatry:-

Thou wert my spirit's spirit-and thou art,
Though this be all of thee time hath not reft,
Save the old thoughts that hang about the heart,
Like withered leaves that many storms have left;
I turn from living looks-the cold, the dull,
To any trace of thee-the lost, the beautiful!
Broken, and bow'd, and wasted with regret,
I gaze, and weep-why do I weep alone!
I would not-would not, if I could-forget,
But I am all remembrance-it hath grown
My very being!-Will she never speak?
The lips are parted, and the braided hair
Seems as it waved upon her brightening cheek,
And smile, and everything-but breath-are there!
Oh, for the voice that I have staid to hear,
-Only in dreams,-so many a lonely year!

It will not be ;-away, bright cheat, away!

Cold, far too cold to love !-thy look grows strange;
I want the thousand thoughts that used to play,
Like lights and shadowings, in chequer'd change;
That smile!-I know thou art not like her, now,—
Within her land-where'er it be of light,
She smiles not while a cloud is on my brow :-
When will it pass away-this heavy night!
Oh! will the cool clear morning never come,
And light me to her, in her spirit's home!

Mr Montgomery cannot write anything, however slight, that is not pregnant with piety. Common-place truths are so presented in the following singular little poem, as to strike the heart like a knell. This is the triumph of genius. Q. Nature, whence sprang thy glorious

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.

Q. Flowers, wherefore do ye bloom?
A. We strew thy pathway to the tomb.

Q. Stars, wherefore do ye rise?
A. To light thy spirit to the skies.

Q. Fair moon, why dost thou wane?
A. That I may wax again.

Q. O sun, what makes thy beams so
bright?

A. The Word that said-" Let there be
light."

Q. Time, whither dost thou flee?
A. I travel to eternity.

Q. Eternity, what art thou, say?
A. I was, am, will be ever more, to-day,

VOL. XIX.

frame?

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

Thou need'st not helm nor cuirass now,
-Beyond the Grecian hero's boast,—
Thou wilt not quail thy naked brow,
Nor shrink before a myriad host,-
For head and heel alike are sound,
A thousand arrows cannot wound!

Thy mother is not in thy dreams,
With that wild, widow'd look she wore
The day-how long to her it seems!-
She kiss'd thee, at the cottage door,
And sicken'd at the sounds of joy
That bore away her only boy!

Sleep, soldier!-let thy mother wait,
To hear thy bugle on the blast;
Thy dog, perhaps, may find the gate,
And bid her home to thee at last ;-
He cannot tell a sadder tale

Than did thy clarion, on the gale,
When last-and far away-she heard its
lingering echoes fail!

In conclusion we observe, that while the embellishments of this volume are scarcely, if at all, inferior to those of the Literary Souvenir-the prose part is perhaps superior. But comparisons are odious at all times, and more especially between such rivals as Mr Watts and Mr Hervey. We have a sincere regard for them both (though we never saw either,) and a free literary trade is best for all men of talents.

Why so laudatory this month, old Christopher? methinks we hear muttered by some pluckless Tory, or some trimming Whig. Because we have been dealing (as in this article) with gentlemen-both editors and publish

ers. But woe be unto some half score of scribes, in a month or two-yes, woe be unto them-for the asses shall be flayed alive, ears and all, and sent scouring along Grub-street in raw material. The world will acknowledge that it never heard braying till that day-and ONE ANIMAL especially will be seen and heard to open his jaws to such an apochryphal extent, that in future ages the best authenticated accounts of his achievements will with difficulty find admittance into systems of natural history.

WORKS PREPARING FOR PUBLICATION.

LONDON.

Mr Alaric Watts has announced a volume of Poems, under the title of "Lyrics of the Heart."

Stories for the Christmas Week. In 2 vols.

A Translation of La Secchia Rapita, or the Rape of the Bucket; an Heroi-Comical Poem, in Twelve Cantos. From the Italian of Alessandro Tassoni. With Notes, by James Atkinson, Esq. In 2 duodecimo volumes.

A Comparative View of the Different Institutions for the Assurance of Lives, in which every question that can interest the Asssurer is discussed, is preparing for the press. By Charles Babbage, Esq. A.M. F.R.S. Lond. Edin. &c. It will contain extensive Tables of the Rates charged at all the Offices, as well as of the Profit made by each at various ages; together with some new Tables of the Rates of Mortality.

The Divina Commedia of Dante Ali. ghieri, with an Analytical Comment, by Gabriel Rossetti, is announced. In 6 vols.

The Life of General Wolfe, from Original Documents, is about to appear in a form similar to Mr Southey's "Life of Nelson.'

Papers and Collections of Sir Robert Wilmot, Bart. some time Secretary to the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, will soon ap

pear.

The Story of Isabel. By the author of "The Favourite of Nature."

A Romance, to be entitled "The Last Man," from the pen of Mrs Shelley, is in a state of considerable forwardness.

The Prophets and Apostles Compared. An Essay, proving the ulterior application of the Prophetic Writings; with a Table annexed, explaining the Two Thousand Three Hundred Days of Daniel, is in the press.

A Fourth Volume of Mr Stewart Rose's Orlando Furioso, will soon make its appearance.

The author of "The Pilot" has announced a new Novel, to be entitled "The Last of the Mohicans."

A Treatise on the Diseases of Children, by William P. Dewees, M.D. is announced for early publication.

A work is announced, under the title of "The History of the Assassins," from Oriental Authorities. Translated from the German of Jos. Von Hanmer. With Notes and Illustrations.

The Second Number of the Architec

tural Antiquities of Normandy, by Mr Pagin, will soon be published.

A History of the United States of America, from their first Settlement as Colonies, to the close of the War with Great Britain in 1815, will soon appear. The Fourth Part of Mr Bellamy's Translation of the Bible.

A work, under the title of "The Reign of Terror," is announced; consisting of a Collection of Authentic Narratives, by Eye-witnesses, of the Horrors committed by the Revolutionary Government of France, under Marat and Robespierre.

A new weekly publication, entitled, "The Spirit and Manners of the Age," will appear in January next. To be conducted by the author of "The Evangelical Rainbler."

A Memoir of the Court of Henry the Eighth, including an Account of the Monastic Institutions in England at that Period, will soon appear.

A Comparative View of Christianity, and all other Forms of Religion, is announced by Dr Brown.

The Book of Churches and Sects, by Mr Boone, is on the eve of publication.

Mr M. T. Sadler is preparing for publication, a Defence of the Principle of the Poor Laws, in answer to their impugners, Mr Malthus, Dr Chalmers, and others. Together with suggestions for their improvement, as well as for bettering the character and condition of the labouring classes. To which will be added, an Essay on Population, in disproof of the superfecundity of the human race, and establishing, by induction, a contrary. theory.

A new edition of Moore's Irish Melodies, in separate Songs, with the Music, is announced for early publication.

Shortly will be published, The Domestic Preacher; or, Short Discourses from the MSS. of some Eminent Ministers.

The Second Volume of Mr Godwin's History of the Commonwealth, is just ready for publication.

Mrs Bray has nearly ready for the press, an Historical Romance, entitled De Foix, or Sketches of the Manners and Customs of the Fourteenth Century.

Mr Garrow, of St John's College, Cambridge, has announced a History of Lymington and its immediate Vicinity, with a Brief Account of its Vegetable and Mineral Productions.

The author of "Solace of an Invalid," is preparing a work, to be entitled,

« ForrigeFortsæt »