Ephemeral Novelists
Fecundity of Authors
Innovations in Language
In Praise of Puffing
Original Ideas scarce in Modern Books
Past and Present State of Poetry
ADDRESS TO THE DEPARTED SPIRIT OF
A BELOVED MOTHER.
OH thou, for ever fond, for ever true,
Beneath whose smile the boy to manhood grew, To sorrow piteous, and to error mild,
Has death for ever torn thee from thy child?
Thy voice that counsell'd, charm'd, consoled, and
Thy deep solicitude that found no rest
But in completion of some pure design,
To make my happiness the spring of thine;
Thy boundless love, whose providential gaze
Pour'd light and tenderness round all my ways;
Those myriad fascinations felt and known
Of truth maternal to be born alone,
(Too coldly prized, while we command them ours,
And feel them gladden our unduteous hours,
But, oh! how worshipp'd, magically dear,
When call'd to life by mem'ry's votive tear!)—
Though these have perish'd, love in deathless bloom
Outlives the torpor of the wintry tomb.
There is a clime where sorrow never came,
There is a peace perennially the same;
There rolls a world where sever'd hearts renew
Bright sympathies, the exquisite and true!
But chasten'd, clear'd, exalted, and refined,
To each pure tone of beatific mind ;-
There may we meet, departed Spirit! there,
The home of bliss, the paradise of prayer;
A few more pangs, a few more tears to shed,
And I shall mingle with the faded dead;
A few fleet years, and this tried heart must brave
The damp oblivion of the dreamless grave;
When, calm as thine, may resignation close
These eyes for glory, in their last repose!—
And if the dead on this dull world may gaze, To breathe a blessing round our troubled ways; If by some ministry, to man unknown,
They still can make a human wish their own,
And wander round, ineffably serene,
That unforgotten home, where life has been,-
Spirit maternal! often gaze on me,
And soothe the pang that so remembers thee !
Hover around me when I mourn or pray,
A dream by night to consecrate the day;
When temper kindles, or when passion dares,
Renew thy warning, and recall thy cares,
Bid thy past love like inspiration rise,
And plead for virtue with a mother's sighs!
AMBITIOUS HOPES AND DISAPPOINT-
MENTS OF GENIUS.
Thou wert not moulded for the selfish world!
Too lofty and too full of heavenly fire
E'er to be measured by ungifted minds,
Whom glory hath not raised. Ambition rock'd
Thy cradle, genius all thine infant soul
Etherealized, and in the rich orb'd eye
The rays of thought and inspiration pour'd :
Before the tongue a budding thought reveal'd,
Imagination dallied with thy mind,
And sent it playing through her airy realms :
But when the man upon thy forehead beam'd,
Impassion'd creature, then thy race began!
Feelings of beauty and of rich delight
Flow'd from the countenance of this fair earth
Full on thy soul, wherein a second world
Was shrin'd; for thee inspiring Nature glow'd
And warm'd thy fancy, like a dream from heaven.-
Thou lov❜st her mightiness, her glorious mien!
Whether she lose her ocean-zone, and let
The waves abroad, or hang the sky with storms,
Or hail thee in her thunders !-or at eve,
When sunshine like a beauteous mem'ry dies,
And the breeze anthems, like a bird of air,
Call thee to witness, how in deck'd array
The marshall'd clouds attend th' imperial Sun
Before his throne of waves,-alike divine
She seems. And not alone does Nature charm
Thy senses into wondering awe; but all
That men admire, by genius or by art
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