against her many of her friends and readers, but she regained the public favour by her tale, the Old Manor-house,' which is the best of her novels. Part of this work was written at Eartham, the residence of Hayley, during the period of Cowper's visit to that poetical retreat. It was delightful,' says Hayley, to hear her read what she had just written, for she read, as she wrote, with simplicity and grace. Cowper was also astonished at the rapidity and excellence of her composition. Mrs Smith continued her literary labours amidst private and family distress. She wrote a valuable little compendium for children, under the title of Conversations; A History of British Birds;' a descriptive poem on Beachy Head,' &c. She died at Tilford, near Farnham, on the 28th of October 1806. The poetry of Mrs. Smith is elegant and sentimental, and generally of a pathetic cast. Sonnets. On the Departure of the Nightingale. Sweet poet of the woods, a long adieu! Farewell, soft minstrel of the early year! For still thy voice shall soft affections move, Written at the Close of Spring. The garlands fade that Spring so lately wove; Each simple flower, which she had nursed in dew, Anemones that spangled every grove, The primrose wan, and harebell mildly blue. No more shall violets linger in the dell, Or purple orchis variegate the plain, Till Spring again shall call forth every bell, And dress with humid hands her wreaths again. Ah, poor humanity! so frail, so fair, Are the fond visions of thy early day, Till tyrant passion and corrosive care Another May new buds and flowers shall bring: Rest for a moment of the sultry hours, And, though his path through thorns and roughness lay, So have I sought thy flowers, fair Poesy! So charmed my way with friendship and the Muse. Dark with new clouds of evil yet to come; Her pencil sickening Fancy throws away, Recollections of English Scenery.-From Beachy Head. Scenes of fond day-dreams, I behold ye yet! To ease his panting team, stopped with a stone Advancing higher still, Where woods of ash and beach, And partial copses fringe the green hill-foot, That from the hill wells forth, bright now, and clear, But still refreshing in its shallow course The cottage garden; most for use designed, Yet not of beauty destitute. The vine Mantles the little casement; yet the brier Drops fragrant dew among the July flowers; And pansies rayed, and freaked, and mottled pinks, Grow among balm and rosemary and rue; There honeysuckles flaunt, and roses blow, Almost uncultured; some with dark-green leaves Of richest crimson; while, in thorny moss By village housewife or her ruddy maid, Were welcome to me; soon and simply pleased. An early worshipper at nature's shrine, I loved her rudest scenes-warrens, and heaths, MISS BLAMIRE. MISS SUSANNA Blamire (1747–1794), a Cumberland lady, was distinguished for the excellence of her Scottish poetry, which has all the idiomatic ease and grace of a native minstrel. Miss Blamire was born of a respectable family in Cumberland, at Cardew Hall, near Carlisle, where she resided till her twentieth year, beloved by a circle of friends and acquaintance, with whom she associated in what were called merry neets, or merry evening-parties, in her native district. Her sister becoming the wife of Colonel Graham of Duchray, Perthshire, Susanna accompanied the pair to Scotland, where she remained some years, and imbibed that taste for Scottish melody and music which prompted her beautiful lyrics, The Nabob,' 'The Siller Croun,' &c. She also wrote some pieces in the Cumbrian dialect, and a descriptive poem of some length, entitled 'Stocklewath, or the Cumbrian Village.' Miss Blamire died unmarried at Carlisle, in her forty-seventh year, and her name had almost faded from remembrance, when, in 1842, her poetical works were collected and published in one volume, with a preface, memoir, and notes by Patrick Maxwell. When silent time, wi' lightly foot, I sought again my native land The Nabob. As I drew near my ancient pile The ivied tower now met my eye, I ran to ilka dear friend's room, I closed the door, and sobbed aloud, Some penny chiels, a new-sprung race And wished my groves away. Na! na! our fathers' names grow there, To wean me frae these waefu' thoughts, But sair on ilka weel-kenned face I missed the youthfu' bloom. But sure her mother's blushing cheeks In vain I sought in music's sound Ye sons to comrades o' my youth, Forgie an auld man's spleen, [mourns When time has passed and seasons fled, What Ails this Heart o' Mine? This song seems to have been a favourite with the authoress, for I have met with it in various forms among her papers; and the labour bestowed upon it has been well repaid by the popularity it has all along enjoyed.'-Maxwell's Memoir of Miss Blamire, The lasses aw wondered what Willy cud see In yen that was dark and hard-featured leyke me: But Willy he laughed, and he meade me his weyfe, And whea was mair happy thro' aw his lang leyfe? That he offen said-nea pleace was leyke his awn heame! I mind when I carried my wark to yon steyle, There was nin o' the leave that was leyke my awn sel; When the clock had struck eight, I expected him heame. Of aw hours it telt, eight was dearest to me, That age, time, or death can divide thee and me! MRS. BARBAULD. ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD, the daughter of Dr. John Aikin, was born at Kibworth Harcourt, in Leicestershire, in 1743. Her father at this time kept a seminary for the education of boys, and Anna received the same instruction, being early initiated into a knowledge of classical literature. In 1758, Dr. Aikin undertaking the office of classical tutor in a dissenting academy at Warrington, his daughter accompanied him, and resided there fifteen years. In 1773, she published a volume of miscellaneous poems, of which four editions were called for in one year. In May 1774, she was married to the Rev. Rochemont Barbauld, a French Protestant, who was minister to a dissenting congregation at Palgrave, near Diss, and who had just opened a boarding-school at the neighbouring village of Palgrave, in Suffolk. The poetess participated with her husband in the task of instruction. In 1775 she came forward with a volume of devotional pieces compiled from the Psalms, and another volume of 'Hymns in Prose' for children. In 1786, Mr. and Mrs. Barbauld established themselves at Hampstead, and there several tracts proceeded from the pen of our authoress on the topics of the day, in all which she espoused the principles of the Whigs. She also assisted her father in preparing a series of tales for children, entitled 'Evenings at Home,' and she wrote critical essays on Akenside and Collins, prefixed to editions of their works. In 1803, Mrs. Barbauld compiled a selection of essays from the 'Spectator,' 'Tatler,' and 'Guardian,' to which she prefixed a preliminary essay; and in the following year she edited the correspondence of Richardson, and wrote a life of the novelist. She afterwards edited a collection of the British novelists, published in 1810, with an introductory essay, and biographical and critical notices. Mrs. Barbauld died on the 9th of March 1825. Some of her lyrical pieces are flowing and harmonious, and her 'Ode to Spring' is a happy imitation of Collins. Charles James Fox is said to have been a great admirer of Mrs. Barbauld's songs, but they are by no means the best of her compositions, being generally artificial, and unimpassioned in their character. A Memoir of Mrs. Barbauld, including Notices of her Family and Friends,' was published in 1874 by her grand-niece, Anna Le Breton. The following stanza in a poem entitled 'Life,' was much admired by Wordsworth and Rogers: |