« AnteriorContinuar »
I stood by the grave, 'mid the wailing moans, Oh! there are many, and fond and gay,
Thoughtless as aught of their thoughtless Rank and wild amidst that poisonous dew;
scene; I stood by the grave, and I wished that the Yet, I stood by the grave, and I only sigbed breeze
For the hour ihat should tell them—that I Should thus blow on me, when I slept like
had died ! these!
I deemed that my manhood, one violet path I stood by the grave, and my young heart felt Of life may have, as my boyhood hath; Its hopes and its fears together melt, But a festering curse has blighted me, How the bliss of life, which I loved so well, Ere the blossom had dropped from the Had vanished, I could not, I could not tell ;
withered tree: But I felt that my spirit soon should be Still, I stood by the grave, and I wish'd that I Straying in light through heaven's blue In its putrid bed could meekly lie.
I stood by the grave—a single hourI stood by the grave, and I turned away And methought 'twould make a pleasant From all that on earth could woo my stay,
bower. In the diademed world my place was high, For willow, and cypress, and rosemary, 'Mid the full of heart, and ihe bright of eye: A chaplet fresh should weave for me; But I felt that I soon should leave them all, And my nuptial feast the worms should share, For the charnel's feast and the death-worm's Quatting their draughts from the white skulls hall.
THE WAVERLEY NOVELS.
[The publication of a new edition of the el, which have enabled him to form Waverley Novels, with notes, historical and the materials. Anatomy is an excelillustrative, by the author, and embellished lent study to help a man in becoming with engravings by the most eminent art a painter, or even a critic of painting; ists, was briefly noticed in the last number but no one who is looking at a fine of the Atheneum. We have since received picture would desire to be shown the a spocimen of the letter-press of this edition. prepared entrails of the persons who The size is royal 18mo., and it possesses formerly sat as the artist's models. all the qualities required to constitute ele- If Sir Walter Scott's novels are not gant printing.–The writer of the article truer than the histories and anecdotes from which the following extract is taken, from which the vulgar tell us he comnot only objects to the publication of the posed them, (as the sculptor comsources whence Sir Walter has derived poses a statue out of a block,) they are his incidents and descriptions, but also to worth nothing, or next to nothing, as the plan of ornamenting the volumes with novels, and we care not to be let into engravings ; for as these must necessarily the worthless secret of their construcbe executed by other individuals, he thinks tion. If (as we all know them to be) they will be very unlikely,—though excel- they are ten thousand times more true lent as works of art,-to harmonise with (to human nature) than all the histothat which they are intended to illustrate.]
rical facts that ever were prated of,
why should we be pestered with the It seems to us that Sir Walter Scott miserable details which could only beis a traitor to his own genius in pub- come precious by being wrought in the lishing with the novels the details of mine of a man of genius. There is those resources which he has made nothing, the most absurd, in the worst such admirable use of. No one sus- fiction, for which some historical papects him of making bricks without rallel might not probably be found. straw ; but, when we are looking at It is nothing the better for this; it is the pyramid, and studying the archi • not less improbable, less false, (for tecture, it is impertinent to withdraw the artist,) on this account. There is our attention, and exhibit to us spe- only one of his secrets which Sir Walcimens of the clay, and sand, and fu- ter Scott can never explain in notes
to ordinary readers ; it is one which collected the raw material of that pecan only be intelligible to those who culiar portion? Fools will think much need no explanation—the secret of his the worse of the novelist's powers genius. The real incidents (as if when they see that even he, though Hume were one tithe so real as Shaks- the wine is undoubtedly an “emanapeare) alluded to in the prospectus, tion” from himself, was compelled to have become Sir Walter's own : they borrow a goat-skin to put it in : men are stamped with his name, and im- of talent will not think more highly of bued with the fragrance of his geni- his abilities than they do at present, us ; and why should we be forced to for they take for granted (caring not see upon the styles and titles of the a jot whether it be so or no) that he pawnbrokers in whose hands they were has seized whatever would answer his originally found ? The old nails and purpose, and care nothing for seeing broken buttons have all been welded a catalogue of the worn-out shreds together, and wrought into a splendid from which he has made so magarmor: would you mar the delicate nificent a robe of kingly purple. Is richness of the chasing by scratching it not obviously ill-judged to surover each square inch, in awkward round a finished building with scafletters, the initials of the beggar who folding ?
On saftly sleep, my bonnie bairn,
Rock'd on this breast o' mine ;
Will not awaken thine.
That such late watches keep,
Yet let the baby sleep.
Sleep on, sleep on, my ae, ae bairn,
Nor look sae wae on me,
That blins thy mother's e'e.
Lest on my bairn ye dreep;
An' let my baby sleep.
MR. MOORE, THE POET.
At Mayfield, near Ashbourne, is a common-place praise-pens that wrote cottage where Moore, it is stated, “ Paradise and the Peri” in Lalla composed Lalla Rookh. For some Rookh! Another showed you a glove years this distinguished poet lived at torn up into thin shreds in the most the neighboring village of Mayfield; even and regular manner possible ; and there was no end to the pleasant- each shred being in breadth about the ries and anecdotes that were floating eighth of an inch, and the work of the about its coteries respecting him at teeth! Pairs were demolished in this the time we visited the place ; no way during the progress of the Life limit to the recollections which exist- of Sheridan. A third called your ated of the peculiarities of the poet, of tention to a note written in a strain of the wit and drollery of the man. Go the most playful banter, and announcwhere you would, his literary relics ing the next “ tragi-comedy meeting.” were pointed out to you. One family A fourth repeated a merry impromptu; possessed pens; and oh! Mr. Bra- and a fifth played a very pathetic air, mah! such pens! they would have composed and adapted for some beauborne a comparison with Miss Mit- tiful lines of Mrs. Opie's. But to ford's; and those who are acquainted return to Mayfield. Our desire to go with that lady's literary implements over the cottage which he had inhabitand accessaries will admit this is no ed was irresistible. It is neat, but
15 ATHENEUM, VOL. 2, 3d series.
very small, and remarkable for nothing you do insert them, it must be verbaexcept combining a most sheltered tim.' Mr. Moore's fame would not situation with the most extensive have suffered by their suppression ; prospect. Still one had pleasure in his heart would have been a gainer. going over it, and peeping into the Some of his happiest efforts are conlittle book-room, ycleped the “ Poet's nected with the localities of AshDen,” from which so much true poe- bourne. The beautiful lines beginning try had issued to delight and amuse “ Those evening bells, those evening bells," mankind. But our satisfaction was were suggested, it is said, by hearing not without its portion of alloy. As the Ashbourne peal; and sweetly inwe approached the cottage, a figure deed do they sound at that distance, scarcely human appeared at one of the “ both mournfully and slow ;" wbile windows. Unaware that it was again those exquisitely touching stanzas, inhabited, we hesitated about entering;
“Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb when a livid, half-starved visage pre- In life's happy morning hath hid from our eyes,” sented itself through the lattice, and a were avowedly written on the sister of thin, shrill voice discordantly ejaculat- an Ashbourne gentleman, Mr. Ped, -" Come in, gentlemen, come in. B~. ' But to his drolleries. He Don't be afeard! I'm only a tailor avowed on all occasions an utter horat work on the premises.". This vil- ror of ugly women. He was heard, lanous salutation damped sadly the il- one evening, to observe to a lady, lusion of the scene; and it was some whose person was preeminently plain, time before we rallied sufficiently from but who, nevertheless, had been anxthis horrible desecration to descend to iously doing her little endeavors to atthe poet's walk in the shrubbery, tract his attention, “I cannot endure where, pacing up and down the live- an ugly woman. I'm sure I could long morning, he composed his Lalla never live with one. A man that Rookh. It is a little confined gravel- marries an ugly woman cannot be walk, in length about twenty paces ; happy.” The lady observed, that so narrow, that there is barely room " such an observation she could not on it for two persons to walk abreast; permit to pass without remark. She bounded on one side by a straggling knew many plain couples who lived row of stinted laurels, on the other by most happily:"_" Don't talk of it,” some old decayed wooden paling ; at said the wit ; « don't talk of it. It the end of it was a huge haystack. cannot be.” _" But I tell you,” said Here, without prospect, space, fields, the lady, who became all at once both Bowers, or natural beauties of any de- piqued and positive, “it can be, and scription, was that most imaginative it is. I will name individuals so cirpoem conceived, planned, and execut- cumstanced. You have heard of Coed. It was at Mayfield, too, that lonel and Mrs. She speaks in a those bitter stanzas were written on deep, gruff bass voice; he in a thin, the death of Sheridan. There is a shrill treble. She looks like a Jean curious circumstance connected with Dorée ; he like a dried alligator. They them; they were sent to Perry, the are called Bubble and Squeak by some well-known editor of the Morning of their neighbors ; Venus and Adonis Chronicle. Perry, though no stickler by others. But what of that? They in a general way, was staggered at the are not handsome, to be sure ; and venom of two stanzas, to which I need there is neither mirror nor pierglass to not more particularly allude, and be found, search their house froin one wrote to inquire whether he might be end of it to the other. But what of permitted to omit them. The reply that? No unhandsome reflections can, which he received was shortly this : in such a case, be cast by either party! “ You may insert the lines in the I know them well ; and a more barChronicle or not, as you please ; I am monious couple I never met with. perfectly indifferent about it; but if Now, Mr. Moore, in reply, what hare
you to say? I fatter myself I have The attempt, however, does him honor. overtbrown your theory completely.” And, affectionate father as he is well “ Not a whit. Colonel - has got in- known to be, when he looks at his to a scrape, and, like a soldier, puts beautiful little daughter, and those the best face he can upon it.”—Those fears, and hopes, and cares, and anxistill exist who were witnesses to his eties, come over him which almost exultation when one morning he en- choke a parent's utterance as he gazes tered Mrs. -'s drawing-room, with on a promising and idolized child, he an open letter in his hand, and, in his will own the censures passed on those peculiarly joyous and animated man- poems to be just: nay more-every year der, exclaimed, “Don't be surprised will find him more and more sensible of if I play all sorts of antics ! I am the paramount importance of the union like a child with a new rattle! Here of female purity with female loveliness is a letter from my friend Lord Byron, —more alive to the imperative duty, on telling me he has dedicated to me his a father's part, to guard the maiden bopoem of the ‘Corsair. Ah, Mrs. —, som from the slightest taint of licenit is nothing new for a poor poet to tiousness. It is a fact not generally dedicate his poem to a great lord; but suspected, though his last work, “The it is something passing strange for a Epicurean,” affords strong internal great lord to dedicate his book to a evidence of the truth of the observapoor poet.” — Those who know him tion, that few are more thoroughly most intimately feel no sort of hesita- conversant with Scripture than himself. tion in declaring, that he has again and Many of Alethe's most beautiful reagain been heard to express regret marks are simple paraphrases of the at the earlier efforts of his muse ; or sacred volume. He has been heard reluctance in stating, at the same to quote from it with the happiest eftime, as a fact, that Mr. M., on two fect—to say there was no book like it different occasions, endeavored to re -no book, regarding it as a mere hupurchase the copyright of certain po- man composition, which could on any ems; but, in each instance, the sum subject even “ approach it in poetry, demanded was so exorbitant, as of it- beauty, pathos, and sublimity.” Long self to put an end to the negociation. may these sentiments abide in him.
THE LATEST FEMALE FASHIONS.
PARISIAN CARRIAGE DRESS.
rouleaux of satin placed at a little disA redingote composed of velvet, tance from each other; there is no the color is boue de Paris ; the cor- collar, but its place is supplied by a sage is made to sit close to the shape, collerette en bouillons, through which is the sleeve cut full and much puffed drawn a bright blue riband tied in out on the shoulder by a newly invent- front in full bows and short ends. The ed manche en gigot ; it is terminated collerette is composed of blond net, by a cuff à l'antique, finished à la and the bouillons are formed by a fall Grecque at the top, by two very nar- of deep pointed blond lace. Headrow rouleaux of satin a shade darker dress :-a hat of the same material as then the velvet; the skirt is finished the redingote, brimmed with blue round the bottom by a very deep hem, gauze ribands striped with yellow : the and up the front by a satin trimming brim is large and very wide; the which is very broad at the bottom, trimming is arranged partly in næuds and becomes gradually narrower till it and partly in foliage ; a branch of foreaches the waist, where it takes the liage is placed beneath the brim on form of a pelerine falling low on the each side, another decorates one side back and shoulders ; it is cut to cor- of the crown, and a large næud is atrespond with the cuff in a Grecian tached to the crown in front, near the border, which is finished by two top. Ear-rings and buckle for the
LONDON DINNER DRESS.
ceinture, gold; gold Chatelaine and white satin rouleau ; the drapery rises key, the latter of a large size : white in a point from the waist, and spreads velvet reticule, with an embroidery of very full, in small regular folds, gold foliage in the centre ; blue kid across the bust as far as the shoulders, gloves, and black cottines.
which are a good deal displayed; the
sleeves being placed low, they are Explanation of the Print of the very large to the wrist, where they Fashions.
are terminated by broad gold Egyptian
bracelets, confining the white kid Dress of white satin or gros de Na- gloves. In the centre of the bust is ples ; the body made close to the
an elegant Egyptian brooch, with penshape, and nearly covered with white dant drops, corresponding in delicate tulle drapery, which rises in a fan-like workmanship with the ear-rings, which direction from the centre of the
are also of gold ; the skirt has tucks waist, and spreads in regular folds to within a quarter of a yard of the across the bosom, displaying the form waist, they are placed close to each to much advantage; the back is made other, and are about a finger's length in the same manner, and has a narrow
in depth ;
the fulness of the skirt is band of white satin where it closes; principally at the back, but it is the sleeves are full and short, with slightly continued at the front and the least possible shoulder-straps ; the sides. White satin sash. skirt has three plaits on each side in
Large black velvet hat, with a front, and is trimmed with a broad white satin bow, just within the brim full flounce of tulle, having a stiffened on the left side; a plume of white satin band at the edge ; it is put on in ostrich feathers placed behind, are ara straight line, and alternately fasten- ranged with the greatest taste; one ed up and down by white satin corded extends to the front, where it is atleaves ; ceinture of white satin.
tached to the crown, and turned for Vienna toyne of tulle and white sa
the end to play freely; a second is tin, formed of large bows, on loops of fastened to the top of the crown, folded tulle, standing up very high and twisted, and falls over to the front; open, inserted in a satin band in front,
two more, twisted half way, fall and passing over towards the crown ;
gracefully towards the right shoulder. two bows of broad satin riband are
Cloak of striped blue or lilac satin, placed on the right side, and bows and with an elegant border, formed by a ends behind, below two spreading perpendicular embroidered sprig being bows of folded tulle. Long white kid placed between each stripe ; the cloak gloves, stamped; white satin shoes.
is wadded, and lined with white satin, and fastened by a gold-color silk cord
and tassels; it has a large square colWhite tulle dress, over a white lar, and a larger square cape, reachsatin slip; the body en draperie, regu- ing below the elbow. White satin lated in the centre by a perpendicular shoes.
LONDON OPERA DRESS.
“ Serene Philosophy!
lebrity, as advocates for particular The following are the writers whose systems accounting for the formation opinions have obtained the greatest ce- and subsequent alteration of the carth: