« ZurückWeiter »
"O GOD, IT IS A TERRIBLE THING TO DIE INTO THE INEXTINGUISHABLE LIFE,-(DAVID GRAY)
"GOD MAKES HIS ANGELS SPIRITS, THAT IS, WINDS,
Alas! not often now thy silver horn
Shall me delight with dreams and mystic love forlorn!
[From "The Luggie, and Other Poems," by David Gray (Macmillan, 1862).]
HIS MINISTERS A FLAMING FIRE."-DAVID GRAY.
TO LEAVE THIS KNOWN WORLD WITH A FEEBLE CRY, ALL ITS POOR JARRING STRIFE."-GRAY.
"I FEAR NOT DEATH, BUT DYING-NOT THE LONG HEREAFTER, SWEETENED BY IMMORTAL LOVE,
66 GOD'S ANGELS GUIDE THE THUNDER-CLOUDS."-GRAY.
BUT THE QUICK, TERRIBLE LAST BREATH, THE STRONG CONVULSION."-DAVID GRAY.
“OH, LIVING SONS WITH LIVING MOTHERS! LEARN THEIR WORTH, AND USE THEM GENTLY;
66 HIS MERCY OVER ALL HIS WORKS REMAINS."-GRAY.
But youth it comes, and youth it goes-
So with the spirit of a sage
I plucked it from its hermitage,
And placed it 'tween the sacred leaves
Let others sing of that and this,
In war and science find their bliss;
By every flower that lights the lea,
[From "The Luggie, and Other Poems."]
AST night a vision was dispelled,
A wonder from the earth has gone,
A passion from my brain.
* The name of the lover in Keats' poem of "St. Agnes' Eve."
66 ALL AROUND....CONTINUOUS DEITY."-DAVID GRAY.
FOR YOUTH IS QUICK; OF TEMPER STERN, AND APT TO BLUNDER WITHOUT GUIDING."-GRAY.
"OH, IN THE HEREAFTER BORDER-LAND OF WONDER, SHALL THE PROUD WORLD'S TALE BE TOLD,-(GRAY)
THERE IS BEAUTY AND DELIGHT AND PASSIVE FEELING
I saw upon a budding ash
A cuckoo, and she blithely sung
A slender bird of modest brown,
["A slender bird of modest brown."]
I looked again and yet again;
My eyes, thought I, do sure deceive me;
But when belief made doubting vain,
Alas! the sight did grieve me.
The hollow cry of melting love;
And twice a tear bedimmed my eye.
I saw the singer in the grove,
I saw him pipe his eager tone,
Like any other common bird,
TO HIM WHO WALKS BENEATH THE BOUGHS."-D. GRAY.
THE CURTAIN OF ALL MYSTERIES TORN ASUNDER, THE CEREMENTS FROM THE SOUL UNROLLED."-GRAY.
"DARKLY WE MOVE-WE PRESS UPON THE BRINK HAPLY OF NEUTER'S WORLD."-MRS. HEMANS.
"TIS SAD TO SPEAK OF Treasures gonE,-(MRS. HEMANS)
And, as I live, the sovereign cry
Was I thus blindly overbold?
[From "The Luggie, and Other Poems."]
[FELICIA DOROTHEA Browne was the daughter of a Liverpool merchant, and born on the 25th of September 1793. She "lisped in numbers," and made her appearance as a poetess at the early age of fifteen. In 1812 she published a second volume, "The Domestic Affections, and Other Poems," which met with a favourable reception; and in the same year was married to Captain Hemans. The marriage did not prove a happy one, and in 1818 they separated by mutual consent. "The Vespers of Palermo," a tragedy by Mrs. Hemans, was produced at Covent Garden Theatre, December 12, 1823, but not successfully. Her genius was rather lyrical than dramatic, and is seen to better advantage in short lays and ballads than in her sustained efforts. In 1826 she published "The Forest Sanctuary;" in 1828, "Records of Woman:" in 1830, "Songs of the Affections ;" and in 1834, "Hymns for Childhood," and "Scenes and Hymns of Life." After a long and weary illness, she expired on the 16th of May 1835, at the early age of forty-one. Her longer works are now little read, though containing many graceful and tender passages; but some of her briefer songs will always occupy a place in our English anthologies.
"If taste and elegance," says Lord Jeffrey, "be titles to enduring fame, we might venture securely to promise that rich boon to the author now before us; who adds to these great merits a tenderness and loftiness of feeling, and an ethereal purity of sentiment, which could only emanate from the soul of a woman. If the next generation inherits our taste for short poems, we are persuaded it will not readily allow her to be forgotten. For we do not hesitate to say that she is, beyond all comparison, the most touching and accomplished writer of occasional verses our literature has yet to boast of."]
OF SAINTED GENIUS CALLED TOO SOON AWAY."-MRS. HEMANS.
"NEARER THAN WE THINK ARE THOSE WHOM DEATH HAS PARTED FROM OUR LOT."-HEMANS.