THE REV. WILLIAM CROWE. WILLIAM CROWE (circa 1746-1829) was the son of a carpenter at Winchester, and was admitted upon the foundation as a poor scholar. He was transferred to New College, Oxford, and was elected Fellow in 1773. He rose to be Professor of Poetry and Public Orator, holding at the same time the valuable rectory of Alton Barnes. Crowe was author of Lewesdon Hill' (1786), a descriptive poem in blank verse, and of various other pieces. Several editions of his 'Poems' have been published, the latest in 1827. There is poetry of a very high order in the works of Crowe, though it has never been popular. Wreck of the Halsewell,' East Indiaman. See how the sun, here clouded, afar off To the Philippines o'er the southern main From Acapulco, carrying massy gold, Were poor to this; freighted with hopeful youth, And beauty and high courage undismayed By mortal terrors, and paternal love, Strong and unconquerable even in death Alas, they perished all, all in one hour!* The Miseries of War. From 'Verses intended to have been spoken in the Theatre of Oxford, on the Installation of the Duke of Portland as Chancellor of the University.' *The Halsewell. Captain Pierce, was wrecked in January 1786, having struck on the rocks near Seacombe, on the island of Purbeck, between Peverel Point and St. Alban's Head. All the passengers perished; but out of 40 souls on board, 74 were saved. Seven interesting and accomplished young ladies (two of them daughters of the captain) were among the drowned. To twine fresh wreaths around the conqueror's brow; To do their bidding.-Oh, who then regards As at an altar wet with human blood, And flaming with the fire of cities burnt, Sing their mad hymns of triumph-hymns to God, O'er the destruction of his gracious works! CHARLOTTE SMITH. She Several ladies cultivated poetry with success at this time. Among these was MRS. CHARLOTTE SMITH (whose admirable prose fictions will afterwards be noticed). She was the daughter of Mr. Turner of Stoke House, in Surrey, and born on the 4th of May 1749. was remarkable for precocity of talents, and for a lively playful humour that shewed itself in conversation, and in compositions both in prose and verse. Being early deprived of her mother, she was carelessly though expensively educated, and introduced into society at a very early age. Her father having decided on a second marriage, the friends of the young and admired poetess endeavoured to establish her in life, and she was induced to accept the hand of Mr. Smith, the son and partner of a rich West India merchant. The husband was twenty-one years of age, and his wife fifteen! This rash union was productive of mutual discontent and misery. Mr. Smith was careless and extravagant, business was neglected, and his father dying, left a will so complicated and_voluminous that no two lawyers understood it in the same sense. Law-suits and embarrassments were therefore the portion of this ill-starred pair for all their after-lives. Mr. Smith was ultimately forced to sell the greater part of his property, after he had been thrown into prison, and his faithful wife had shared with him the misery and discomfort of his confinement. After an unhappy union of twenty-three years, Mrs. Smith separated from her busband, and, taking a cottage near Chichester, applied herself to her literary occupations with cheerful assiduity, supplying to her children the duties of both parents. In eight months she completed her novel of 'Emmeline,' published in 1788. In the following year appeared another novel from her pen, entitled 'Ethelinde;' and in 1791, a third under the name of 'Celes tina.' She imbibed the opinions of the French Revolution, and embodied them in a romance entitled 'Desmond.' This work arrayed 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; 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 trail. so fair, Are the fond visions of thy early day, Till tyrant passion and corrosive care Bid all thy fairy colours fade away! 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! 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 'r spring and summer, what delight I felt 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, Had trod on thirty years, I sought again my native land Wha kens gin the dear friends I left The Nabob. As I drew near my ancient pile The ivied tower now met my eye, Where minstrels used to blaw; I ran to ilka dear friend's room, I knew where ilk ane used to sit, I closed the door, and sobbed aloud, Some penny chiels, a new-sprung race Wha shuddered at my Gothic wa's, 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 In vain I sought in music's sound |