« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »
have found neither a word too much pauses, to resemble free recitation;
The verse is the lambic of eleven just idea of the merit of the original. syllables, broken by varied cæsural
DEATH OF MR. JOHN KEATS. We commence our article this putation of Keats. There were many, month with but a melancholy sub- however, even among the critics ject-the death of Mr. John Keats.- living, who held his powers in high It is, perhaps, an unfit topic to be estimation; and it was well observed discussed under this head, but we by the Editor of the Edinburgh Reknew not where else to place it, and view, that there was no other Author we could not reconcile ourselves to whatever, whose writings would form the idea of letting a poet's death pass so good a test by which to try the by in the common obituary. He love which any one professed to bear died on the 23rd of February, 1821, towards poetry. at Rome, whither he had gone for When Keats left England, he had the benefit of his health. His com- a presentiment that he should not replaint was a consumption, under turn: that this has been too sadly which he had languished for some realized the reader already knows. time, but his death was accelerated After his arrival in Italy, he revived by a cold caught in his voyage to for a brief period, but soon afterItaly.
wards declined, and sunk gradually Mr. Keats was, in the truest sense into his grave. He was one of three of the word, A Poet.— There is but English poets who had been coma small portion of the public ac- pelled by circumstances to adopt a quainted with the writings of this foreign country as their own. He young man; yet they were full of was the youngest, but the first to high imagination and delicate fancy, leave us. His sad and beautiful and his images were beautiful and wish is at last accomplished: It was more entirely his own, perhaps, than that he might drink®“ of the warm those of any living writer whatever. south,” and “ leave the world unHe had a fine ear, a tender heart, seen,”-and--(he is addressing the and at times great force and origina- nightingale)— lity of expression; and notwithstanding all this, he has been suffer
“ And with thee fade away into the forest
dim : ed to rise and pass away almost without a notice: the laurel, has Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget been awarded (for the present) to
What thou amongst the leaves hast neother brows: the bolder aspirants ver known, have been allowed to take their sta- The weariness, the fever, and the fret tion on the slippery steps of the tem- Here, where men sit and hear each other ple of fame, while he has been near- groan; ly hidden among the crowd during Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey his life, and has at last died, solitary Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and in sorrow, in a foreign land.
and dies ; It is at all times difficult, if not
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow impossible, to argue others into a
And leaden-eyed despairs, love of poets and poetry: it is alto
Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous gether a matter of feeling, and we
eyes, must leave to time (while it hallows
Or new love pine at them beyond tohis memory) to do justice to the re
A few weeks before he died, a whatever he may have left (when gentleman who was sitting by his ther in poetry or prose) behind him. bed-side, spoke of an inscription to The public is fond of patronizing his memory, but he declined this al- poets : they are considered in the together,--desiring that there should light of an almost helpless race : be no mention of his name or coun- they are bright as stars, but like me. try; or if any,” said he, “ let it teors be-Here lies the body of one whose “ Short-lived and self-consuming." name was writ in water!”—There is something in this to us most pain- We do not claim the patronage of fully affecting ; indeed the whole the public for Mr. Keats, but we istory of his later days is well calcu- hope that it will now cast aside lated to make a deep impression.- every little and unworthy prejudice, It is to be hoped that his biography and do justice to the high memory of will be given to the world, and also a young but undoubted poet. L.
POEMS BY THOMAS GENT.
This is a pleasant and very unas- To grasp, and launch the slow descending suming little volume; - it is filled with serious sketches, songs, hu- Still as she spoke, her stature seem'd to morous verses, elegies, &c. &c. trick
grow; ed off in a very frank, and frequently Pain, want, and madness, pestilence, and
Still she denounced immitigable woe : in a very delightful manner. Although
death, the serious pieces are generally ten
Rode forth triumphant at. her blasting der, the bent of the author's mind
breath ; seems to us to incline to the humourous Their march she marshall’d, taught their and jovial, and we should like to see ire to fall, him try the octave rhyme, keeping it And seem'd herself the emblem of them all. free, of course, from those peculiari
The reader may now take the folties which have latterly so unequivo- lowing lines as being, though mourncally distinguished it, but throwing ful, of a character entirely different into it some of that kind and hear- from the last, and almost equally ty humour, which we should al
pleasing. most anticipate to be a strong feature in his own character.-The fol
TO MARY. lowing spirited sketch of « The
Written at Midnight. Sybil,” will incline our readers, per- On! is there not in infant smiles haps, to think that we have done A witching power, a cheering ray, wrong in inciting Mr. Gent to attend A charm, that every care beguiles, principally to the whisperings of the
And bids the weary soul be gay ? comic muse.
There surely is--for thou hast been
Child of my heart, my peaceful dove, So stood the Sibyl: stream'd her hoary
Gladdening life's sad and chequer'd sceno,
An emblem of the hair
peace Wild as the blast, and with a comet's glare Now all is calm, and dark, and still, Glow'd her red eye-balls 'midst the sunken
And bright the beam the moonlight
throws gloom Of their wild orbs, like death-fires in a
On ocean wave, and gentle rill,
And on thy slumbering cheek of rose. tomb. Slow, like the rising storm, in fitful moans,
And may no care disturb that breast, Broke from her breast the deep prophetic And may thy latest years be blest
Nor sorrow dim that brow serene; Anon, with whirlwind rush, the Spirit
As thy sweet infancy has been. Then in dire splendour, like imprison'd whole, which this volume.contains, is
Perhaps the best poem on the flame Flashing through rifted domes or towns We have not room for much quota
the ode to the late Princess Charlotte. amaz'd, Her voice in thunder burst ; her arm she tion, but we must give the conclurais'd;
sion of the ode: the first four lines Outstretch'd her hands, as with a Fury's of our extract appear to us to be force
Tis past—thy name, with every charm it struck us as being particularly true
As some raw 'Squire, by rustic nymphs
Resolves new scenes and nobler flights to
To town repairs, some fam'd assembly
But when, electric on th' astonish'd wight
While levellid mirrors multiply the rows
At once confounded into sober sense,
Small Authors thus strut forth, and thus
But, Critics, hear! an angel pleads for
That flay'd the Traveller who had lost his
clothes ; &c.
All this seems to us pleasant and
unconstrained writing ; and we take
A VISION OF JUDGMENT, BY ROBERT SOUTHEY, POET LAUREATE.
Odes, or an equivalent for one,- to his own love of experiment, by
English metre, which is too long and
and failed to win the public consent. Come, and behold !-methought a startThe Vision opens with the following
ling voice from the twilight lines, which any “ reader of poetry
Answer'd ; will find little difficulty in managing The Trance, the Vault, the Awaken-the only requisite being breath. ing, and the Gate of Heaven, (which are 'Twas at that sober hour when the light of the titles of the first four chapters) day is receding,
are then rapidly presented
at the And from surrounding things the hue latter an angel stood
wherewith day has adorn’d them Fade, like the hopes of youth, till the Ho! he exclaim'd, King George of Engbeauty of earth is departed ;
land cometh to judgment ! Pensive, though not in thought, I stood at « The accusers" who come from the window, beholding
« the blackness of darkness," are, we Mountain and lake and vale; the valley suppose, Wilkes and Junius (for Mr.
disrobed of its verdure; Derwent retaining yet from eve a glassy re
Southey gives the names of “ the soflection
vereigns," " the elder worthies," “ the Where his expanded breast, then still and
worthies of the Georgian age,” and smooth as a mirror,
“ the young spirits” alone, and chaUnder the woods reposed; the hills that ritably leaves the bad to conjectural calm and majestic,
baptism ;) the first from (among other Lifted their heads in the silent sky, from marks) " the cast of his eye oblique,” far Glaramara,
and the latter, because Bleacrag and Maidenmaur, to Grizedal and westermost Withop.
Mask'd had be been in his life, and now a Dark and distinct they rose. The clouds
visor of iron had gather'd above them
Rivetted round his head had abolish'd his High in the middle air, kuge, purple, Speechless the slanderer stood, and turn'd
features for ever. pillowy masses, While in the west beyond was the last pale Iron-bound as it was so insupportably
his face from the monarch tint of the twilight; Green as a stream in the glen whose pure soon or late to conscious guilt is the
dreadful and chrysolite waters
of Flow o'er a schistous bed, and serene as
the injur'd. the age of the righteous.
After the discomfiture of the acEarth was hush'd and still : all motion and
cusers, « The Absolvers' are sumsound vere suspended : Neither man was heard, bird, beast, nor
moned in the persons of those who the humming of insect,
on earth had arraigned him'--these Only the voice of the Greta, heard only also are nameless, with the exception when all is in stillness.
of Washington, who, though the Pensive I stood and alone, the hour and slowest to absolve, is, however,
the scene had subdued me, compelled, somewhat reluctantly to And as I gazed in the west, where infinity attest, that the king had acted as seem'd to be open,
befitted a sovereign.' The beatificaYearn'd to be free from time, and felt that tion' follows of course, and the rethis life is a thraldom.
mainder of the poem is consecrated Thus as I stood, the bell which awhile by the calendar of saints, who greet
from its warning had rested, ed the monarch and his laureate on Sent forth its note again, toll! toll! through their admission, and were thereafter
the silence of evening. 'Tis a deep dull'sound that is heavy and to be associated with the forner. mournful at all times,
Alfred, Charles I, "Nassau the DeFor it tells of mortality always. But heavier liverer,' Elizabeth, the Duke of Marlthis day
borough, Perceval, Cranmer, Wesley, Fell on the conscious ear its deeper and are among the foremost-and Chaumournfuller import,
cer, Shakspeare, Milton, and SpenYea in the heart it sunk; for this was the ser are likewise presented' on this day when the herald
occasion, probably in compliment to Breaking his wand should proclaim, that the poet for the King cared, we sui
George our king was departed ; Thou art released ! I cried : thy soul is de spect, very little about them. This liver'd from bondage !
conjecture is strengthened by the inThou who hast lain so long in mental and troduction of Cowper, Kirké White, visual darkness,
Bampfylde, and one or two others, Thou art in yonder heaven ! thy place is in who would not be the very first objects light and in glory.
of research, in a place so abundant with the noblest in renown,' to earth, where he (and his language is many even among the poets, but who that of complaint) might be well conceded to Mr. Sou
instead of the rapturous sound of they's known partiality for their com
hosannahs, pany. The poem concludes with the Heard the bell from the tower, toll ! toll ! author's precipitate return to the through the silence of evening.
PARIS, SECOND PART. BY THE REV. GEO. CROLY, AM. This beautiful poem appeared too When twilight o'er Cythera's wave of green late in the month to allow of its Drew her rich curtain, and his upturn'd eye being included in our criticisms.- Was burning with the pomps of earth, and The author has adopted an idea, sea, and sky. that the overthrow of Napoleon was · Anon, upon him rush'd the ecstasy, the consummation of one of the great And from the lilied vale, the myrtle wood, periods of the world, and the seal The mountain's coronet,-Music's soul and evidence of a decided and pro
breath'd by ; vidential change, by which the cis White meteors shot along the distant flood, vilized world is to be henceforth led' And now sailid on, like an advancing cloud, from happiness to happiness. We Chariots of pearl, and proud sea horses hope the poet may be a prophet also. That with their breasts the green to silver The second part of “ Paris” contains
ploughid, descriptions of the most memorable And nymphs and tritons lifting trumpets circumstances connected with the fall
orbid, of the French empire. We have Young Venus ! round thy throne, in its thus, “ The Retreat of the French
own light absorb'd. from Moscow-Napoleon's Exile at the shore is reach'd ; and fear, bewitching St. Helena—a general View of the
fear, atrocities of Jacobinism--the Execu- Is in her bending form, and glancing eye, tion of Louis XVI.” &c. &c.- Even And veiling hand, and timid-turning ear; the restoration of the pictures and She listens ;~'twas but Eve's enamour'd statues of the museum is touched
sigh ! with this general colour of a great Yet has it heav'd her bosom's ivory ; restitution of principle. We give Yet has it on the shore her footstep spell’d,the stanzas which represent the Flo- Tis past. The rustling rose alone is nigh, rentine Venus, a subject of renowned She smiles, and in that smile is all revealá beauty. Our next publication shall The charm, to which so soon the living
world shall yield. enter more into detail.
Venus, thou’rt lovely, but on other feet The Venus de' Medici.
Was pressed of old the kiss of guilty fire. And have I then forgot thee, loveliest far Thy look is grace, too deeply, purely sweet Of all, enchanting image of Love's queen? To tell of passion that could change or tire, Or did I linger till yon blue star,
From those rich lips no fatal dreams respire, Thy star should crown thee with its light There lives no evil splendor in that eye serene?
To dart the flame on failing virtue's pyre, There stands the goddess by the Grecian Dark thoughts before thy sacred beauty die,
Queen of the soul, thy charm of charms is In the mind's lonely, deep idolatry :
We noticed last month a four volumes of a fresh romance, are poem announced to be in the press, also forthcoming. By the by-we from the pen of Mr. Maturin, en- promised to say something about his titled The Universe.--If he goes on wild, fantastic, and,- no, not natuthus he must soon “ imagine a new ral-but legitimate child of genius, one. A new tragedy, of which we Melmoth. We shall endeavour to hope soon to give some account, and keep our word in May.
MR. BOWYER'S PRINT. A very highly embellished account of Lords, by Stephanoff—it is quite of events connected with the late illusion - Mr. Brougham rubbed his memorable trial, is about to issue from eyes that he might be sure he was the hands of Mr. Bowyer of Pall- in Pall-Mall after viewing it. No Mall. We have been favoured with less than seventy peers have sat to a sight of the picture of the House Mr. Bowyer for their likenesses.