+ Thus I enjoy, others partaking,→

A little heaven of my making.

Nov. 20, 1802.

* I absolutely sigh at the impossibility of giving here more of the minutiæ of this dear and good old man. They are of importance to all orders of human beings, and I shall not

"Waste their sweetness on the desert air.”

GLEANER

POEMS

BY

AN INVISIBLE.

THE within is an actual poetical correspondence, begun at Oxford, continued at Warwick, and beautifully sustained by a Lady, whose merit is known to a splendid circle of friends, and will be acknowledged by the Public, though I am not at liberty to give her name. The Lines by the GLEANER, which introduce the subject, were written at the instant the circumstances they de scribe took place.

VOL. III.

20

EXTEMPORE

EXTEMPORE

ON HEARING A LADY SING IN AN ADJOINING ROOM TO THE AUTHOR,

WITHDRAWN to my inn, and there musing alone

On peace and on war, while the moon softly shone,— As if with her own fairy shadows at play,—

And shed o'er the world a more delicate day,

A voice, as by magic, began to impart

The rich sounds of Nature, though fashion'd by Art!
Such a feast for the eye, such a treat for the ear,
Methought 't would be transport to see as to hear.
But no figure or form to this voice could be found :
So I told my charm'd heart 't was the Angel of Sound,
Permitted in kindness the moments to cheer

When the Dæmon † of Discord prepar'd to appear.

GLEANER.

PARODY EXTEMPORE,

BY THE LADY TO WHOM THE FOREGOING VERSES WERE ADDressed,

On the mind of the Poet oft Fancy has shone; 'Twas Fiction created Enchantment alone;

The Roebuck Inn at Oxford.

This was written at the time that the soi-disant Invader was momentarily expected.

With fictions poetic 't is charming to play,

Till Reality enters to chase them away.

The Voice you have heard has no charm to impart;
Dame Nature is niggard, and pow'rless is Art.
It can't be a transport to see or to hear

One plain to the eye, and who treats not the ear.
If she charm, all the charm in idea is found;
How empty the flatt'ries of men!-all a Sound!
'Tis said they too much would have power to cheer,
But Reason and Truth make them all disappear.

Soon after this the Lady left Oxford. Some months after, the fair Poet still preserving her invisibility, with serio-comic pleasantry wrote, at Warwick, the following, which she called*

FIRST PARODY:

THE laurel which you gave I'll not divide † :
I sought it not-Fame's empire is too wide.
I first refus'd it for my humble lyre,
You, still insisting, fann'd Ambition's fire:
You, who in turn woo all the tuneful Nine,
Blame not a Woman who would touch their shrine.

The lines which are here hinted at are mislaid. The point of them was to divide the honours of Poesy and Music with a Lady then at Warwick, the contribution of whose Muse will succeed those of the Fair Invisible.

+ The Angel of Sound!—Grammarians, I appeal to you, Is not the definite?

1

Partial their patronage, to Man begun,

Have they no Woman favour'd?" Scarcely one,"
Cries jealous Man, who thinks no earth-born Maid
Can write or think without his lordly aid.

If on one Woman you a wreath bestow,

Take half again-th' injustice makes her glow-
Go, gen'rous Bard! 'mongst thousands share the bays;
I, though* unangel'd, take no lesser praise:
Scorning the vengeance Satire would inspire,
I leave to any one the verse and lyre.

This gave birth to what follows:
'Twas night, and all were gone to bed,
The time when graves give up their dead,
In spite of silence, shades, and thought,
My mind with enterprise was fraught;
I tow'rds Parnassus bent my way,
Apollo's Sister lent her ray.

She added:

And by the light of her favouring beams, by the road, I found (oh joy!) a sprig somewhat similar to that you sent me from Parnassus. Mr. GLEANER, I shall call it

SECOND PARODY,

You are no Despot "must" the wreath divide?

‡ Hail, Lord of Fame's fair empire, rich and wide,

*"Alluding to the flattering appellation conferred on me in the verses at Oxford."

Refusing to share the laurel, the Gleaner had called her despotic. It is hoped the reader will consider the compliment to the Gleaner as merely carrying on the spirit of the contest with ironical pleasantry.