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Hamilton, Captain Basil Hall, and other distin. 1822, (29.)

guished literati.-Returns to England, (Sept.) – Siege of Valencia, and Songs of the Cid written; A Spirit's Return composed. -also dramatic fragment of Don Sebastian.

1830, (37.) 1823, (30.)

Songs of the Affections published.–Visits the Contributes to Thomas Campbell's New Monthly Lakes and Mr Wordsworth.—Domiciles during Magazine. — Voice of Spring written, (March.) — part of summer at Dove's Nest, near Ambleside. Siege of Valencia published, along with Last -- Revisits Scotland, (Aug.)— Returns by Dublin Constantine and Belshazzar's Feast. --Vespers of and Holyhead to Wales. Palermo performed at Covent Garden, (Dec. 12.)

1$31. (38.) 1824, (31.)

State of hcalth delicate.—Quits England for last Composes De Chatillon, revised MS. of which time, (April,) and proceeds to Dublin.--Visits the unfortunately lost.-Writes Lays of Many Lands.

Hermitage, near Kilkenny, and Woodstock.-ReRemoves with family from Bronwylfa to

turns to Dublin, (Aug.)—Writes various lyrics. Rhyllon.

1832. (39) 1825, (32.)

Health continues greatly impaired. — Writes Treasures of the Deep, The Hebrew Mother,

Miscellaneous Lyrics, Songs of Spain, and Songs The Hour of Death, Graves of a Household, The

of a Guardian Spirit. Cross in the Wilderness, and many other of her

1833. (40.) best lyrics written.

Feels recruited during spring.-Writes Songs of 1826, (33.)

Captivity, Songs for Summer Hours, and many of The Forest Sanctuary published, together with

Scenes and Hymns of Life.-Composes Sonnets

Devotional and Memorial. — Commences transLays of Many Lands.-Commences correspondence with Professor Norton of Boston, U.S.,

lation of Scenes and Passages from German who republishes her works there.

Authors, (December.)

1834. (41.) 1827, (34.) Mrs Hemans loses her mother (11th January.)

Hymns for Childhood published (March ;)

also National Lyrics and Songs for Music. Writes Hymns for Childhood, which are first

- Paper on Tasso, published in New Monthly published in America.- Corresponds with Joanna

Magazine, (May.)-Writes Fragment of Paper on Baillie, Anne Grant, Mary Mitford, Caroline

Iphigenia. — Records of Spring 1834 written, Bowles, Mary Howitt, and M. J. Jewsbury.Writes Körner to his Sister, Homes of England,

(April, May, June.)— Is seized with fever; during

convalescence retires into county of Wicklow.An Hour of Romance, The Palm-Tree, and many

Returns to Dublin in autumn, and has attack of other lyrics.—Health becomes impaired.

ague.-Composes Records of Autumn 1834.

Writes Despondency and Aspiration, (Oct. and 1828, (35.)

Nov.)—The Huguenot's Farewell and Antique Publishes with Mr Blackwood Records of Woman,

Greek Lament, (Nov.)-Thoughts during Sickness and collected Miscellanies, (May.)-Contributes

written, (Nov. and Dec.)— Retires during conval. regularly to Blackwood's Magazine.—Visits Waver

escence to Redesdale, a country-seat of the Archtree Lodge early in summer.-Removes to village bishop of Dublin. of Wavertree with family in September.

1835. (42.) 1829, (36.)

Returns to Dublin, (March.)—Debility gradually Writes Lady of Provence, To a Wandering increases. - Corresponds regarding Sir Robert Female Singer, The Child's First Grief, The Peel's appointment of her son Henry.- Dictates Better Land, and Miscellanies.— Voyages to Scot

Sabbath Sonnet, (April 26.)—Departs this life,(16th land, (June,) and visits Mr Henry M-Kenzie, Rev. May.)—Remains interred in vault beneath St Mr Alison, Lord Jeffrey, Sir Walter Scott, Captain Anne's Church, Dublin.

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The breeze is still, the sea is calm,
And the whole scene combines to charm;
The flowers revive, this charming May,
Because it is thy natal day.

The sky is blue, the day serene, And only pleasure now is seen; The rose, the pink, the tulip gay, Combine to bless thy natal day.

The infant muse, Jehovah ! would aspire
To swell the adoration of the lyre:
Source of all good ! oh, teach my voice to sing
Thee, from whom Nature's genuine beauties

Thee, God of truth, omnipotent and wise,
Who saidst to Chaos, “let the earth arise."
O Author of the rich luxuriant year !
Love, Truth, and Mercy in thy works appear :
Within their orbs the planets dost Thou keep,
And e'en hast limited the mighty deep.
Oh! could I number thy inspiring ways,
And wake the voice of animated praise !
Ah, no! the theme shall swell a cherub's note;
To Thee celestial hymns of rapture float.
'Tis not for me in lowly strains to sing
Thee, God of mercy,-heaven's immortal King'
Yet to that happiness I'd fain aspire-
Oh ! fill my heart with elevated fire :
With angel-songs an artless voice shall blend,
The grateful offering shall to Thee ascend.




O GOD! my Father and my Friend,
Ever thy blessings to me send ;
Let me have Virtue for my guide,
And Wisdom always at my side.
Thus cheerfully through life I'll go,
Nor ever feel the sting of woe;

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Yes! Thou wilt breathe a spirit o'er my lyre, And “fill my beating heart with sacred fire !” And when to Thee my youth, my life, I've given, Raise me to join Eliza, 1 blest in Heaven.

lished, the pool where fairy ships were launched (generally painted and decorated by herself,) and, dearer still, the fresh free ramble on the seashore, or the mountain expedition to the Signal Station, or the Roman Encampment. In one of her letters, the pleasure with which she looked forward to her return home was thus expressed in rhyme.—Mem. p. 8, 9.]



[One of her earliest tastes was a passion for Shakspeare, which she read, as her choicest recreation, at six years old; and in later days she would often refer to the hours of romance she had passed in a secret haunt of her own-a seat amongst the branches of an old apple-tree — where, revelling in the treasures of the cherished volume, she would become completely absorbed in the imaginative world it revealed to her. The following lines, written at eleven years old, may be adduced as a proof of her juvenile enthusiasm. — Memoir of Jrs lemans by her Sister, p. 6, 7.)

I LOVE to rove o'er history's page,
Recall the hero and the sage;
Revive the actions of the dead,
And memory of ages fled :
Yet it yields me greater pleasure,
To read the poet's pleasing measure.
Led by Shakspeare, bard inspired,
The bosom's energies are fired;
We learn to shed the generous tear,
O'er poor Ophelia's sacred bier ;
To love the merry moonlit scene,
With fairy elves in valleys green;
Or, borne on fancy's heavenly wings,
To listen while sweet Ariel sings.
How sweet the "native woodnotes wild"
Of him, the Muse's favourite child !
Of him whose magic lays impart
Each various feeling to the heart !

Happy soon we'll meet again,
Free from sorrow, care, and pain;
Soon again we'll rise with dawn,
To roam the verdant dewy lawn;
Soon the budding leaves we'll hail,
Or wander through the well-known vale;
Or weave the smiling wreath of flowers;
And sport away the light-wing'd hours.
Soon we'll run the agile race;
Soon, dear playmates, we'll embrace;-
Through the wheat-field or the grove,
We'll hand in hand delighted rove;
Or, beneath some spreading oak,
Ponder the instructive book;
Or view the ships that swiftly glide,
Floating on the peaceful tide;
Or raise again the caroll’d lay;
Or join again in mirthful play;
Or listen to the humming bees,
As their murmurs swell the breeze;
Or seek the primrose where it springs;
Or chase the fly with painted wings;
Or talk beneath the arbour's shade;
Or mark the tender shooting blade :
Or stray beside the babbling stream,
When Luna sheds her placid beam;
Or gaze upon the glassy sea-
Happy, happy shall we be !



To thee, maternal guardian of my youth,

I pour the genuine numbers free from artThe lays inspired by gratitude and truth;

For thou wilt prize the effusion of the heart Oh! be it mine, with sweet and pious care,

To calm thy bosom in the hour of grief; With soothing tenderness to chase the tear,

With fond endearments to impart relief : Be mine thy warm affection to repay

With duteous love in thy declining hours;

My filial hand shall strew unfading flowers, Perennial roses, to adorn thy way: Still may thy grateful children round thee smileTheir pleasing care affliction shall beguile.




[At about the age of eleven, she passed a winter in London with her father and mother; and a similar sojourn was repeated in the following year, after which she never visited the metropolis. The contrast between the confinement of a town life, and the happy freedom of her own mountain bome, was even then so distasteful to her, that the indulgences of plays and sights soon ceased to be cared for, and she longed to rejoin her younger brother and sister in their favourite rural haunts and amusements -- the nuttery wood, the beloved apple-tree, the old arbour, with its swing, the post-office tree, in whose trunk a daily interchange of family letters was estab

1 A sister whom the author had lost.

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