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Who can describe the hopeless, silent pang
With which the gentle heart first marks her sway?
That speaks no more to the fond meeting eye Enchanting tales of love, and tenderness, and joy.
Too faithful heart! thou never canst retrieve
Nor watch and fan the expiring flame in vain;
HAGAR IN THE DESERT.
Injured, hopeless, faint and weary,
Lo! the empty pitcher fails her!
From the dreadful image flying,
Can she see her soul's delight?
Cast upon the burning ground,
Mercy have thy sorrows found.
Comes thy great distress to cheer;
Psyche, Canto VI.
"Care of Heaven! though man forsake thee,
Yet in that bulb, those sapless scales,
The lily wraps her silver vest,
Till vernal suus and vernal gales
Shall kiss once more her fragrant breast.
In silence let it wait the spring.
Uninjured lies the future birth!
And ignorance, with skeptic eye,
Hope's patient smile shall wondering view;
As her soft tears the spot bedew.
Sweet smile of hope, delicious tear!
The sun, the shower indeed shall come;
And nature bid her blossoms bloom.
And thou, O virgin Queen of Spring!
Shalt, from thy dark and lowly bed,
Unveil thy charms, and perfume shed;
Unsullied from their darksome grave-
In the mild breeze unfettered wave.
So Faith shall seek the lowly dust
Where humble Sorrow loves to lie,
And watch with patient, cheerful eye;
And bear her own degraded doom,
ON RECEIVING A BRANCH OF MEZEREON WHICH FLOWERED AT WOODSTOCK.1
Odors of Spring, my sense ye charm
This poem was the last ever composed by the author, who expired at the place where it was written, after six years of protracted malady, on the 24th of March, 1810, in the thirty-seventh year of her age. Her fears of death
And, mid these days of dark alarm,
Of May's blue skies, abundant bloom,
Alas! for me shall May in vain
These eyes, that weep and watch in pain,
No, no, this anguish cannot last!
Beloved friends, adieu!
The bitterness of death were past,
But ob! in every mortal pang
Through each convulsive strife,
Of terror and regret,
To all in life its love would clasp
Yet why, immortal, vital spark!
Look up, my soul, through prospects dark,
And bid thy terrors rest!
Thine heavenly being trust!
Oh ye! who soothe the pangs of death
Whose kindness (though far, far removed)
Oh! do not quite your friend forget,
were entirely removed before she quitted this scene of trial and suffering; and her spirit departed to a better state of existence, confiding with heavenly joy in the acceptance and love of her Redeemer.
RICHARD CUMBERLAND, 1722-1811.
RICHARD CUMBERLAND, a celebrated dramatic and miscellaneous writer, was born under the roof of his maternal grandfather, the celebrated Dr. Richard Bentley,' on the 29th of February, 1722. After the usual preparatory studies, he was admitted into Trinity College, Cambridge, where he graduated with distinguished honor in 1750. Soon after this, while pursuing his studies at the university, he received an invitation from Lord Halifax to become his private and confidential secretary. Accordingly he proceeded to London, where he published his first offering to the press-a churchyard Elegy, in imitation of Gray's. It made but little impression. "The public," he observes, "were very little interested in it, and Dodsley as little profited." Soon after this, he published his first legitimate drama, "The Banishment of Cicero ;" but it was not adapted for the stage, and it afterwards appeared as a dramatic poem.
In 1759, he married Elizabeth, the only daughter of George Ridge, Esq., of Kilminston, and through the influence of his patron, Lord Halifax, was appointed crown agent for Nova Scotia; and in the next year, when that nobleman, on the accession of George III., was made lord-lieutenant of Ireland, Cumberland accompanied him as secretary. He now began to write with assiduity for the stage, and produced a variety of plays, of which the most successful was the comedy of "The West Indian," and thus he became known to the literary and distinguished society of the day. The character of him by Goldsmith, in his "Retaliation," is one of the finest compliments ever paid by one author to another.2
In 1780, Cumberland was sent on a confidential mission to the courts of Madrid and Lisbon, to induce them to enter into separate treaties of peace with England. But he failed to accomplish the object of his mission, and returned in 1781, having contracted, in the public service, a debt of five thousand pounds, which Lord North's ministry meanly and unjustly refused to pay. He was compelled, therefore, to sell all his paternal estate, and retire to private life. He fixed his residence at Tunbridge Wells, and there poured forth a variety of dramas, essays, and other works: among which were "Anecdotes of Eminent Painters in Spain;" a poem in eight books entitled "Calvary, or the Death of Christ," and another called the "Exo
See "Compendium of English Literature," p. 429.
Here Cumberland lies, having acted his parts,
THE TERENCE OF ENGLAND, THE MENDER OF HEARTS;
To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are.