Such is the charm of affection, and truth, and moral feeling, carried straight into the heart by poetry!" MRS. JAMESON'S LOVES OF THE POETS. O, my love's like the steadfast sun, Can make my heart or fancy flee One moment, my sweet wife, from thee. Even while I muse, I see thee sit As when, beneath Arbigland tree, We stayed and wooed, and thought the moon Set on the sea an hour too soon; Or lingered 'mid the falling dew, When looks were fond and words were few. Though I see smiling at thy feet Five sons and ae fair daughter sweet; And time, and care, and birth-time woes Have dimmed thine eye, and touched thy rose, To thee, and thoughts of thee, belong All that charms me of tale or song; When words come down like dews unsought, With gleams of deep enthusiast thought, And fancy in her heaven flies free, O, when more thought we gave of old 'Twas sweet to sit and ponder o'er What things should deck our humble bower! At times there come, as come there ought, A mother's heart shine in thine eye, And proud resolve and purpose meek, Speak of thee more than words can speak: I think this wedded wife of mine The best of all that's not divine. I'LL sing of yon glen of red heather, An' a dear thing that ca's it her hame, Wha's a' made o' love-life thegither, Frae the tie o' the shoe to the kaime; Love beckons in every sweet motion, Commanding due homage to gie; But the shrine o' my dearest devotion Is the bend o' her bonny eebree. I fleech'd an' I pray'd the dear lassie Her answer was, "Laith wad I be! I neither hae father nor mither, Sage counsel or caution to gie; An' prudence has whisper'd me never To gang to the brakens wi' thee." Dear lassie, how can ye upbraid me, An' try your ain love to beguile? For ye are the richest young lady That ever gaed o'er the kirk-stile. Your smile, that is blither than ony, The bend o' your cheerfu' eebree, An' the sweet blinks o' love there sae bonny, Are five hunder thousand to me! She turn'd her around, an' said, smiling, While the tear in her blue eye shone clear, "You're welcome, kind sir, to your mailing, For, O, you hae valued it dear: Gae make out the lease, do not linger, Let the parson indorse the decree; And then, for a wave o' your finger, I'll gang to the brakens wi' thee!" There's joy in the bright blooming feature, There's joy in the beauties of nature, There's joy in the dance and the wine: The fond little heart that's our ain! PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 1792-1822. "SHELLEY, like Byron, knew early what it was to love-almost all great poets have. It was in the summer of this year (1809) that he became acquainted with our cousin, Harriet Grove. Living in distant counties, they then met for the first time, since they had been children, at Field-place, where she was on a visit. She was born, I think, in the same year with himself. 'She was like him in lineaments-her eyes, Her hair, her features, they said were like to his, But softened all and tempered into beauty.' After so long an interval, I still remember Miss Grove; and when I call to mind all the women I have ever seen, I know of none that surpassed, or that could compete with her. She was like one of Shakspeare's women-like some Madonna of Raphael. Shelley, in a fragment written many years after, seems to have had her in his mind's eye, when he writes: 'They were two cousins, almost like to twins, Except that from the catalogue of sins Nature had razed their love, which could not be, But in dissevering their nativity; And so they grew together like two flowers Upon one stem, which the same beams and showers Young as they were, it is not likely that they had entered into a formal engagement with each other, or that their parents looked upon their attachment, if it were mentioned, as any other than an intimacy natural to such near relations, or the mere fancy of a moment; and after they parted, though they corresponded regularly, there was nothing in the circumstance that called for observation. Shelley's love, however, had taken deep root, as proved by the dedication to Queen Mab, written in the following year." MEDWIN'S LIFE OF SHELLEY. |