“ I see the sparkling snow ; I view the mountain tops ; Or the dark, rugged rocks. “How truly grand the scene ! The giant trees are bare, No hillocks fresh and fair ; “But the cloud-capp'd mountains rise, Crown'd with purest whiteness, That shine with azure brightness. To each reflecting mind, pp. 191, 192. The following was written three years later, at the age of eleven. It is from a poem called “ Boabdil el Chico's Farewell to Granada.” “ The exiled monarch slowly turn’d away ; He could not bear to view those towers again, As if to mock their wretched master's pain. While sobs convulsive heav'd her snowy breast ; With scornful glances which she scarce represt. "Chide me not, mother,' cried the mourning son, Nor charge me with unmanly weakness now; I grieve that Spain the royal prize has won, That proud Granada to her kings should bow.' He paused, and turn'd aside his glowing cheek ; His wandering eyes Alhambra's palace met: Those splendid domes, those towers for ever lost, Lost, when the sun of Moorish glory set. “Yes ! yonder towering spires are seized by Spain, Their king an exile from his native land; Shall I ne'er view thy princely courts again, But yield resistless to the victor's brand. Yes, thou art gone ! thine ancient splendors fled ; O’er thy gay towers the shroud of slavery thrown ; Thy proudest chiefs, thy noblest warriors dead, And all thy pride and all thy glory gone. "Farewell to Alhambra, dear home of my childhood ! Farewell to the land I so proudly have cherish’d! Farewell to the streamlet, the glen, and the wild-wood, The throne of my fathers whose glory has perish’d! ’Neath the crest of Nevada the bright sun is setting, And tinging with gold yonder beautiful river, And his rays seem to linger, as if half-regretting They must leave the clear waves where so sweetly they quiver. "'Farewell, thou bright valley ! I leave thee with sorrow; Thou wilt smile as serene 'neath the sun of the morrow; pp. 223, 224. The following, written at the age of fourteen, is interesting, not only from its poetical merit, but as showing how early the vague and melancholy aspirations of genius and sensibility found a place in her heart. FRAGMENT. " O, I have gazed on forms of light, Till life seemed ebbing in a tear, Were merged the feelings of a year. Till my full heart gush'd wild and free, As if on waves of melody. I long'd to feel a deeper thrill, I sigh’d for something sweeter still. Free from each sorrow, care, regret, Yet ever in those hours of bliss, I long'd to find them happier yet. • Oft o'er the darkness of my mind, Some meteor thought has glanced at will, To find a fancy brighter still. Which always grasp at something more Which burn unseen, unnoticed soar ? “ Well might the heathen sage have known That earth must fail the soul to bind, - pp. 268, 269. The following was written at the same age, and has all the smoothness and easy flow of a practised writer ; TWILIGHT. “ Twilight ! sweet hour of peace, Now art thou stealing on; Day and its cares have gone ! Mysterious hour, Thy magic power “ The golden sunset hues Are fading in the west ; Folded on evening's breast. So doth each wayward thought, From fancy's altar caught, " Cold must that bosom be, Which never felt thy power, At this bewitching hour ; When nature's gentle art Enchains the pensive heart ; flower. VOL. LIII. -No. 112. 19 “ It is the hour for pensive thought, For memory of the past, Of brighter scenes at last ; The soul should raise Its hymn of praise, “ Wearied with care, how sweet to hail Thy shadowy, calm repose, Which greets the sleeping rose ; When, as thy shadows blend, The trembling thoughts ascend, • Forth from the warm recess The chain’d affections flow, Their mingled joys bestow; Charm'd by thy mystic spell, The purer feelings swell, pp. 272, 273. Her own writings occupy about two hundred pages, and among them is a well-constructed, gracefully versified tale of two cantos, and occupying about fifty pages, called “ Lenore,” written in the last year of her life. From the memoir it appears that much of what she wrote has not been printed, and that she also found time to make considerable progress in a great variety of studies ; and all this is comprised within the space of a little more than fifteen years. Have the annals of recorded genius any thing to show more remarkable than this? Art. VI. - Organic Chemistry in its Applications to Ag riculture and Physiology, by Justus Liebig, M. D., Ph. D., F. R. S., M. R. I. A., &c. Professor of Chemistry in the University of Giessen. Edited from the Manuscript of the Author, by Lyon PLAYFAIR, Ph. D. First American Edition, with an Introduction, Notes, and Appendix, by John W. Webster, M. D., Professor of Chemistry in Harvard University. Cambridge : John Owen. 1841. 12mo. 1841. 12mo. pp. 436. - the This treatise makes a contribution to the cause of an improved Agriculture, of extraordinary value. It has been received with great interest in England, and will be read with equal eagerness by a large portion of our own people. Intelligent minds among us are everywhere awake to the immense and universal importance of the subject to which it relates. As a practical art, involving necessarily the existence of all other arts, and directly the uses and aids of many of them, the importance of the agricultural art cannot be overestimated. In an economical and political view, with the exception of the intellectual and moral interests of the community, which are also in some degree in abeyance to it, it is obviously by far the most important of all its interests, department of its industry which most deserves the attention of the patriot, the philosopher, and the philanthropist, as the means of subsistence, and comfort, and the foundation of national wealth. Extensive as are the commercial enterprise and the manufacturing industry of Great Britain, yet her agricultural interests far transcend them. In France, more than one hundred and twenty million pounds of sugar are annually produced from the soil, where, little more than thirty years since, not a pound was grown ; to say nothing of her products in silk and wine, which are in proportion. It is easy to see what a stake she has in agriculture.' In China, a nation almost exclusively agricultural, for her various manufactures are mainly concerned in the products of her agriculture, where, besides her vast exports, more than three hundred and thirty millions of people are subsisted upon these products, we gather some impression of the immense importance of this art. There, likewise, the art has been carried to a higher perfection than in any other part of the |
