That piece of song, That old and antique song we heard last night! TWELFTH NIGHT. IT haunts me-oh! it haunts me yet, That song of yester-eve! It had a murmur like regret, Yet did not make me grieve; It seemed to lead my heart, again, A path without remorse or pain, And yet, beneath that simple strain, Methought the wild notes seemed to rise, Loosed from the golden strings, Like singing birds that seek the skies, On new-enfranchised wings; And, still, I seem to hear them play Beyond the reach of sight, And pour their sweet and softened lay, In dream-like music far away, Amid their homes of light. As stranger-eyes wear, oft, a look In some forgotten time and place, And light, with sudden spell, Some darkened thought, some shadowy trace, Whose silent and mysterious grace The heart remembers well. An antique, yet a novel, tone! The past and future years, New voices, mixed with voices gone, Were murmuring in my ears: Fresh streams of feeling seemed to rush, With ancient ones, along, And hidden springs of thought to gush, Beneath the touch of song! A song, methinks, is like a sigh!— Both seem to soar from earth, And each is wakened but to die, Yet both to mortal hearts belong By many nameless sympathies ; ADDRESS. THE subscribers to this work will perceive in the present number some deviation from its original plan; but by which, it is presumed, much will be gained, and nothing lost. The "Portraits" in future, while of equal excellence and beauty with those already published, will possess this marked advantage; they will be associated with, and illustrate, subjects already familiar to the memory and the heart; and will, it is hoped, do honour to the various productions of our own times, by which the literary character of Great Britain has been so greatly elevated. The present change is made at the suggestion of several distinguished individuals, by whose taste and judgment the proprietors have been guided. While the works of Byron and Scott have been so continually resorted to by the artist, the productions of the other eminent writers of our country, in poetry and prose, have been, for the most part, neglected. It is believed, that, by the plan now adopted, this defect will no longer exist; but that, in course of time, each of our great authors will have obtained the co-operation of Art, and the admirers of Genius will be enabled to illustrate the several works which form the most valued treasures of the British Library. ADDRESS. It will, however, be obvious, that, taken separately, either as works of Art, or as models of female beauty, they will possess the highest claims to the extensive patronage and support with which the previous numbers have been honoured. It does not necessarily follow that they will be valuable only as accompaniments to the volumes they illustrate; they will, in short, be of the same exquisite character as those already before the public, with the additional attraction to which we refer. |