Rove by the glimpses of pale Luna's beam, By Fancy crown'd, to every bosom known, In artless innocence and love array'd! 190 Bid us to follow all her devious way, To own and feel the impulse of her sway. die, Her eye on fire.....her soul in ecstacy! See bolder Radcliffet take her boundless flight, This writer is justly an universal favourite. In her manner of novel writing she is unrivalled. The three novels which she has written, have each peculiar merits. Camilla manifests the greatest extent of observation..... Evelina has most simplicity....but I think that Cecilia manifests most genius, and excites greatest interest. This lady, who has been called a mighty magician, soars amid the wild regions of romance. Her imagination is strong and daring; and, though it sometimes fails in its attempt, it is generally successful. In her department of 201 O'er wilds, o'er mountains, her high course extends, To her unfold the golden doors of Fame. 210 This truth, those names which we have past declare, genius, in the present day, none can approach her. She leaves far behind her the Monks and Castle Spectres. It is remarkable of this writer, that, from her first performance to the last, she has been advancing to greater excellence. Her Italian is the noblest production of her pen, and one which I think she will never exceed. 220 The great Zenobia held her powerful sway, And with stern virtue bade her realms obey. Her mind unshaken all the world admire, And Pity weeping sees the queen expire. ....Hapless in love, in sorrow's moving strain, Hear Sappho mourn her unrequited pain. ....Cold-hearted youth, where wanders Phaon now? Ah! youth neglectful of thy former vow.... ....Behold thy maid on bleak Leucadia's brow Bend o'er the waves which beat the rock below: Hear her to winds her injur'd love declare, See her wild tresses streaming in the air, See her rais'd hands, her blue uplifted eye, A suppliant pleading with the gods on high. ....Fly cruel youth....haste Phaon haste to save, To snatch thy Sappho from the raging wave. ....All aid is vain....ye rolling billows cease! She seeks with you the silent arms of peace. ....Hear bold Corinna* strike her lyric string, And bear young Pindar on her eagle wing. 230 It is said that Corinna was the instructor of Pindar; and often in competition with him bore away the prize. ....With "Lion port" and with a nervous hand, Eliza sway'd the sceptre of her land. ....Nurs'd on the bosom of luxurious France, The queen of Scotland led the airy dance, Love's softest lustre wanton'd o'er her face, 239 The minstrel falls....the voice of music dies. Ah! why to pleasure should such pangs succeed, Why wast thou, Mary,* doom'd so soon to bleed? How sweet and musically flows that lay, Which now in murmurs softly dies away; 250 • Who does not wish to vindicate the character of Mary, queen of Scots? What heart has not bled over her interesting history? Who does not lament her thoughtless levities, her criminal follies? Who does not execrate the stern policy, the hardened vices of Elizabeth, which doomed to the scaffold this enchanting woman, unrivalled in loveliness, accomplishments, and distresses? Who, that has read her beautiful lamentation on her unhappy fate, does not feel the fervour and pathos of her genius? G Colonna* bending o'er her husband's bier, Breathes those sad numbers hallowed with her tear. With active zeal, with honest thirst of fame Hear Dacier vindicate her Homer's name. Hear Montague repel light Voltaire's rage, The tender strain and warm devotion flow. Behold enforc'd in More's instructive page, Carter both Science and Invention own 260 And Genius welcomes from her watchful throne. On Barbauld's verse the circling muses smile, And hail her brightest songstress of the British isle. * Criticism has called this lady, the first poetess of Italy. |