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Untitled Article
uot annoy in reading it i that it is just what a uarrative Ballad should be—simple , touching , powerful ; marvellous in its incidents , yet natural in its emotions ; and worthy of taking its place by the side of the best thing of the kind which last year ' s Annuals produced—we mean Mr . Hood ' s Dream of Eugene Aram . This is praise enough for the Amulet ; and there is that in its coutents which would warrant much more .
The Literary Souvenir retains all its claims to the partiality which we have always felt for it ; and which can scarcely dimiuish so long as it is under the judicious and tasteful management of its ptesent Editor . Mr . Alaric Watts seems expressly formed by nature to write for , ajid conduct , publications of this
description ; he is not too good for the occupation ; nor is that too good for him . It is a beautiful fit , as a tailor would say . All is graceful , easy , elegant , and pleasing . We only wish he would cut a certain Rev . C . Hoyle , who deals out very tame and meaningless verses , and plays the odd trick of decorating them with the names of some of the finest scenes of
Scotland and the North of England . If he be engaged for next year , let the Editor make a revoke ; he will lose no point by it ; and there can scarcely be a worse turn up , for such meagre lines with such glorious titles are no honour to the work . They were the only drawback upon our pleasure in looking through it .
We unhesitatingly believe the Editor ' s assurance that , in making his selection , he has been " influenced less by the importance of the name than the intrinsic merit of the production . ' * This is what makes his volume so much more generally readable than most of these
publications . His own compositions are a good specimen of its average merit . Our readers will , we think , be pleased with tjie following lines from his pen .: " A Remonstrance ¦ , addressed to a Friend toho complained of being Alone in the World .
li Oh gay not thou art all alone , Upon this wide , cold-hearted earth : S ) gh not o'er joys for ever flown , The vacaut chair , —the silent hearth : Why should the world ' s unholy mirth Upon thy quiet dreams intrude , To scare those shapes of heavenly birth -That people oft thy solitude ' .
Though many a fervent hope of youth Haiti ) ' passe ^ , and scarcely left a trace ; Though earth-born love , its tears and truth , t _ JJo longer in thy heart have place ;
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Nor time , nor grief , can e ' er efface The brighter hopes that now are thine , — The fadeless love , —all pitying grace , That make thy darkest hours divine ! Not all alone ;—for thou canst hold Communion sweet with saint and sage , And gather gems , of price untold , From many a pure , untravelled page : Youth ' s dreams , the golden lights of
age , The poet ' s lore , —are still thine own ; Then , while such themes thy thoughts engage , Oh , how canst thou be all alone ! Not all alone ;—the lark's rich note ,
As mounting up to heaven , she sings ; The thousand silvery sounds that float Above—below—on morning ' s wings ; The softer murmurs , twilight brings , — The cricket ' s chirp , cicada's glee ;—All earth—that lyre of myriad strings , Is jubilant with life for thee 1
Not all alone ;—the whispering trees , The rippling brook , the starry sky , — . Have each peculiar harmonies , To soothe , subdue , and sanctify : — The low , sweet breath of evening ' s sigh , For thee hath oft a friendly tone . To lift thy grateful thoughts on high , — To say—thou art not all alone !
Not all alone ;—a watchful eye , That notes the wandering sparrow ' s fall ; A saving hand Is ever nigh , A gracious Power attends thy call : When sadness holds thy heart in thrall , Is oft his tendere , st mercy shewn ; Seek thou the balm vouchsafed to all , Aud thou canst never be Alone ;" Pp . 199—201 .
Miss Jewsbury ' s lines on the Singing Bird at Sea tempt us , as the best criticrue upon them , to apply their own couclusion to the ristug genius of their youthful author : "A prophet's promise—an angel ' s word , They were all in the note or that singing bird . "
In hifl taje , entitled " The Last of the Storm , " Mr , Jiauim seems to be taking leave of that subject , so near his heart , t }^ e Wrongs pf Ireland . We love tihe patriotism of this eloquent novelist , as much a _ s we revereiice his genius The Engravings in U > e Souvenir are , an usual , excellent . Martin is npt quite ou bis o \ vn ground in tfie i ( Tournament , " but it boars the master ' a mark .
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874 Monthly Report of General Literature .
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Dec. 2, 1829, page 874, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2579/page/58/
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