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"Hearts of oak,' our captains cried! when When a voice from the kinsmen spoke louder in From its adamantine lips

(each gun Spread a death-shade round the ships ! 'Twas the youth who had lov'd the fair Ellen of Like the hurricane eclipse

Lorn: Of the sun.“ Again! again! again!

“I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her grief, And the havoc did not slack,

I dreamt that her lord was a barbarous chief;
Till a feebler cheer the Dane

On a rock of the ocean fair Ellen did seem;
To our cheering sent us back ;-

Glenara! Glenara ! now read me my dream!'
Their shots along the deep slowly boom :-

"In dust low the traitor has knelt to the ground,
Then cease!--and all is wail,
As they strike the shaiter'd sail ;

And the desert reveal'd where his lady was found;

From a rock of the ocean that beauty is borne,
Or, in conflagration pale,

Now joy to the house of fair Ellen of Lorn!"
Light the gloom.-

pp. 105-107. There are two little ballad pieces, published for the first time, in this collection, which

We close this volume, on the whole, with have both very considerable merit, and afford feelings of regret for its shortness, and of ad. a favourable specimen of Mr. 'Campbell's miration for the genius of its author. There powers in this new line of exertion. The are but two noble sorts of poetry—the pathetic longest is the most beautiful; but we give our

and the sublime, and we think he has given readers the shortest, because we can give it very extraordinary proofs of his talents for entire.

both. There is something, too, we will ven

ture to add, in the style of many of his con. "O heard ye yon pibrach sound sad in the gale,

ceptions, which irresistibly impresses us with Where a band cometh slowly with weeping and wail? the conviction, that he can do much greater And her sire, and the people, are called to her bier. things than he has hitherto accomplished;

and leads us to regard him, even yet, as a "Glenara came first with the mourners and shroud; Her kinsmen they follow'd, but mourn'd not aloud : poet of still greater promise than performance. Their plaids all their bosoms were folded around : It seems to us, as if the natural force and They march'd all in silence they look'd on the boldness of his ideas were habitually checked ground.

by a certain fastidious timidity, and an anxi. "In silence they reach'd over mountain and moor, ety about the minor graces of correct and To a heath, where the oak-tree grew lonely and chastened composition. Certain it is, at least, hoar;

that his greatest and most lofty flights have Now here let us place the grey stone of her cairn : been made in those smaller pieces, about Why speak ye no word ??--said Glenara the stern. which, it is natural to think, he must have And tell me, I charge you! ye clan of my spouse, felt least solicitude; and that he has sucWhy fold you your mantles, why cloud ye your ceeded most splendidly where he must have brows?'

been most free from the fear of failure. We So spake the rude chieftain :-no answer is made,

wish But each mantle unfolding, a dagger display'd.

any praises or exhortations of ours had

the power to give him confidence in his own “I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her shroud,' Cried a voice from the kinsmen, all wrathful and great talents; and hope earnestly, that he will loud ;

now meet with such encouragement, as may * And empty that shroud, and that coffin did seem; set him above all restraints that proceed from Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!' apprehension; and induce him to give free "O! pale grew the cheek of that chieftain, I ween, scope to that genius, of which we are perWhen the shroud was unclos'd, and no lady was

suaded that the world has hitherto seen rather seen;

the
grace

than the richness.

(January, 1825.) Theodric, a Domestic Tale : with other Poems. By THOMAS CAMPBELL. 12mo. pp. 150.

London : 1824. If Mr. Campbell's poetry was of a kind those relics to which it excludes the possithat could be forgotten, his long fits of silence bility of any future addition. At all events would put him fairly in the way of that mis- he has better proof of the permanent interest fortune. But, in truth, he is safe enough;- the public take in his productions, than those and has even acquired, by virtue of his ex- ever can have who are more diligent in their emplary laziness, an assurance and pledge of multiplication, and keep themselves in the immortality, which he could scarcely have recollection of their great patron by more freobtained without it. A writer who is still quent intimations of their existence. The fresh in the mind and favour of the public, experiment, too, though not without its haze after twenty years' intermission, may reason. ards, is advantageous in another respect ;-for ably expect to be remembered when death the re-appearance of such an author, after shall have finally sealed up the fountains of those long periods of occultation, is naturally kis inspiration; imposed silence on the cavils hailed as a novelty—and he receives the of envious rivals, and enhanced the value of I double welcome, of a celebrated stranger, and a remembered friend. There is, accordingly, idle and occupied world, it is of all others no living poet, we believe, whose advertise- perhaps the kind of poetry best fitted to win ment excites greater expectation than Mr. on our softer hours, and to sink deep into va Campbell's:-and a new poem from him is cant bosoms—unlocking all the sources of waited for with even more eagerness (as it is fond recollection, and leading us gently on certainly for a much longer time) than a new through the mazes of deep and engrossing novel from the author of Waverley: Like all meditation—and thus ministering to a deeper other human felicities, however, this high ex- enchantment and more lasting delight than pectation and prepared homage has its draw- can ever be inspired by the more importunate backs and its dangers. A popular author, as strains of more ambitious authors. we have been led to remark on former occa- There are no doubt peculiar and perhaps sions, has no rival so formidable as his former insuperable difficulties in the management of self—and no comparison to sustain half so themes so delicate, and requiring so fine and dangerous as that which is always made be- so restrained a hand-nor are we prepared to tween the average merit of his new work, and say that Mr. Campbell has on this occasion the remembered beauties—for little else is entirely escaped them. There are passages ever remembered-of his old ones.

that are somewhat fade :-there are expresHow this comparison will result in the sions that are trivial:—But the prevailing present instance, we do not presume to pre- character is sweetness and beauty; and it dict with confidence—but we doubt whether prevails over all that is opposed to it. The it will be, at least in the beginning, altogether story, though abundantly simple, as our readin favour of the volume before us. The ers will immediately see, has two distinct poems of this author, indeed, are generally compartments ---one relating to the Swiss more admired the more they are studied, and maiden, the other to the English wise. The rise in our estimation in proportion as they former, with all its accompaniments, we think become familiar. Their novelty, therefore, is nearly perfect. It is full of tenderness, purity, always rather an obstruction than a help to and pity; and finished with the most exquisite their popularity ;-and it may well be ques-elegance, in few and simple touches. The tioned, whether there be any thing in the other, which is the least considerable, has novelties now before us that can rival in our more decided blemishes. The diction is in affections the long-remembered beauties of many places too familiar, and the incidents the Pleasures of Hope-of Gertrude—of too common-and the cause of distress has O'Connor's Child—the Song of Linden—The the double misfortune of being unpoetical in Mariners of England—and the many other its nature, and improbable in its result. But enchanting melodies that are ever present to the shortest way is to give our readers a slight the minds of all lovers of

account of the poem, with such specimens as The leading piece in the present volume is may enable them to judge fairly of it for an attempt at a very difficult kind of poetry; themselves. and one in which the most complete success It opens, poetically, with the description can hardly ever be so splendid and striking as of a fine scene in Switzerland, and of a rustic to make amends for the difficulty. It is en-church-yard; where the friend of the author titled "a Domestic Story”—and it is so;— points out to him the flowery grave of a turning upon few incidents-embracing few maiden, who, though gentle and fair, had died characters-dealing in no marvels and no of unrequited love :—and so they proceed, belerrors-displaying no stormy passions. With tween them, for the matter is left poetically out complication of plot, in short, or hurry of obscure, to her history. Her fancy had been action-with no atrocities to shudder at, or early captivated by the tales of heroic daring feats of noble daring to stir the spirits of the and chivalric pride, with which her country's ambitious—it passes quietly on, through the annals abounded—and she disdained to give shaded paths of private life, conversing with her love to any one who was not graced with gentle natures and patient sufferings—and un- the virtues and glories of those heroic times folding, with serene pity and sober triumph, This exalted mood was unluckily fostered by the pangs which are fated at times to wring her brother's youthful ardour in praise of the the breast of innocence and generosity, and commander under whom he was serving the courage and comfort which generosity and abroad—by whom he was kindly tended when innocence can never fail to bestow. The wounded, and whose picture he brought back taste and the feeling which led to the selec- with him on his return to his paternal home, tion of such topics, could not but impress their to renew, and seemingly to realize, the daycharacter on the style in which they are dreams of his romantic sister. This picture, treated. It is distinguished accordingly by a and the stories her brother told of the noblé fine and tender finish, both of thought and of Theodric, completed the poor girl's fascina-, diction—by a chastened elegance of words tion. Her heart was kindled by her fancy; and images a mild dignity and tempered and her love was already fixed on a being she pathos in the sentiments, and a general tone had never seen! In the mean time, Theodric, of simplicity and directness in the conduct of who had promised a visit to his young protege, the story, which, joined to its great brevity, passes over to England, and is betrothed to a tends at first perhaps to disguise both the lady of that country of infinite worth and richness and the force of the genius required amiableness. He then repairs to Switzerland, for its production. But though not calculated where, after a little time, he discovers the to strike at once on the dull palled ear of an love of Julia, which he gently, but firmly re

poetry.

bukes- returns to England, and is married. O'er clust'ring trees and terrace-mantling vines. His wife has uncomfortable relations quarrel. Waves s'er each walk where she was wont to

Iglidesome, selfish, and envious; and her

peace

is sometimes wounded by their dissensions and As lovely blooms, though trode by strangers now.

And still the garden whence she grac'd her brow, unkindness. War breaks out anew, too, in How oft from yonder window o'er the lake, Theodric's country; and as he is meditating Her song, of wild Helvetian swell and shake, a journey to that quarter, he is surprised by a Has made the rudest fisher bend his ear, visit from Julia's brother, who informs him, and rest enchanted on his oar to hear ! that, after a long struggle with her cherished Thus bright, accomplish'd, spirited, and bland,

Well-born, and wealthy for that simple land, love, her health had at last sunk under it,

and Why had no gallant native youth the art that she now prayed only to see him once To win so warm-o exquisite a heart? more before she died! His wife generously She, midst these rocks inspir'd with feeling strong urges him to comply with this piteous request. By mountain-freedom-music-fancy-song, He does so ; and arrives, in the midst of wintry And conscious of romance-inspiring charms, tempests, to see this pure victim of too warm Dreamt of Heroic beings ; hoped to find an imagination expire, in smiles of speechless Some extant spirit of chivalric kind; gratitude and love. While mourning over And scorning wealth, look'd cold ev'n on the claim her, he is appalled by tidings of the dangerous Of manly worth, that lack'd the wreath of Fame.' illness of his beloved Constance-hurries to

pp. 3–7. England--and finds her dead !-her fate hav. We pass over the animated picture of the ing been precipitated, if not occasioned, by brother's campaigns, and of the fame of Theothe harsh and violent treatment she had met dric, and the affectionate gratitude of parents with from her heartless relations. The piece and sister for his care and praises of their closes with a very touching letter she had left noble boy. We must make room, however, for her husband_and an account of its sooth- for this beautiful sketch of his return. ing effects on his mind.

"In time, the stripling, vigorous and heal'd, This

, we confess, is slight enough, in the Resum'd his barb and banner in the field, way of fable and incident: But it is not in And bore himself right soldier-like, till now those things that the merit of such poems The third campaign had manlier bronz’d his brow; consists; and what we have given is of course When peace, though but a scanty pause for breatha mere naked outline, or argument rather, A check in frantic war's unfinished game,

A curtain-drop between the acts of deathintended only to explain and connect our Yet dearly bought, and direly welcome, came. extracts.

The camp broke up, and Udolph left his chief For these, we cannot possibly do better As with a son's or younger brother's grief: than begin with the beginning.

But journeying home, how rapt his spirits rose!

How light his footsteps crush'd St. Gothard's snows! "'Twas sunset, and the Ranz des Vaches was sung, How dear seem'd ev'n the waste and wild ShreckAnd lights were o'er th' Helvetian mountains flung, horn, That gave the glacier tops their richest glow, Though wrapt in clouds, and frowning as in scorn, And ting'd the lakes like molten gold below. Upon a downward world of pastoral charms; Warmıh flush'd the wonted regions of the storm, Where, by the very smell of dairy-farms, Where, Phænix-like, you saw the eagle's form, And fragrance from the mountain-herbage blown, That high in Heav'ns vermilion wheel'd and soar'd! Blindfold his native hills he could have known ! Woods nearer frown'd; and cataracts dash'd and roard,

His coming down yon lake-his boat in view From heights brouzed by the bounding bouquetin; The arms spread out for him—the iears that burst

Of windows where love's flutt'ring kerchief flexHerds tinkling roam'd ihe long.drawn vales be-|('Twas Julia's, 'twas his sister's met him first :)

(green. And hamlets glitter'd white, and gardens flourish'd And all their rapture's greeting, may be guess'd."

Their pride to see war's medal at his breast, 'Twas transport to inhale the bright sweet air ! The mountain-bee was revelling in its glare,

pp. 12, 13, And roving with his minstrelsy across

At last the generous warrior appears

in

perThe scented wild weeds, and enamell's moss. son among those innocent beings, to whom he Earth's features so harmoniously were link'd, She seem'd one great glad form, with life instinct

, had so long fumished the grand theme of disThat felt Heav'n's ardent breath, and smil'd below

course and meditation. Its flush of love with consentaneous glow.

“ The boy was half beside himself-the sire, A Gothic church was near; the spot around All frankness, honour, and Helvetian fire, Was beautiful, ev'n though sepulchral ground; Of speedy parting would not hear him speak; For there nor yew nor cypress spread their gloom, And tears bedew'd and brighten'd Julia's cheek. But roses blossom'd by each rustic tomb. Amidst them one of spotless marble shone

“ Thus, loth to wound their hospitable pride, A maiden's grave-and 'twas inscrib'd thereon, A month he promis'd with them to abide ; That young and lov'd she died whose dust was

As blithe he trod the mountain-gward as they, there :

And felt his joy make ev'n the young more gay " Yes.' said my comrade, young she died, and How jocund was their breakfast parlour, fann fair!

By yon blue water's breath!-iheir walks how Grace form'd her, and the soul of gladness play'd

bland! Once in the blue eyes of that mountain-maid!

Fair Julia seem'd her brother's soften'd spriteHer fingers witch'd the chords they passed along,

A gem reflecting Nature's purest lightAnd her lips seem'd to kiss the soul in song:

And with her graceful wit there was inwrought Yet woo'd and worshipp'd as she was, till lew

A wildly sweet unworldliness of thought,

That almost child like to his kindness drew, Aspir'd to hope, 'twas sadly, strangely true,

And twain with Udolph in his friendship grew. That heart, the martyr of its fondness burn'd And died of love that could not be return'd.

But did bis thoughts to love one moment range

No! he who had lov'd Constance could not change ! * Her father dwelt where yonder Castle shines Besides, till grief betray'd her undesign'd.

tween,

pp. 17, 18.

p. 25.

Th’unlikely thought could scarcely reach his mind, To share existence with her, and to gain
That eyes so young on years like his should beam Sparks from her love's electrifying chain,
Unwoo'd devotion back for pure esteem."

Of that pure pride, which, less'ning to her breast

Lise's ills, gave all its joys a treble zest, Symptoms still more unequivocal, however, That ruighty truth-how happy are the good!".

Before the mind completely understood at last make explanations necessary; and he is obliged to disclose to her the secret of his

All this, we think, is dignified enough for love and engagement in England. The effects of this disclosure, and all the intermediate poetry of any description, but we really canevents, are described with the same grace

not extend the same indulgence to the small and delicacy. But we pass at once to the tracassaries of this noble creature's unworthy

relations--their peevish quarrels, and her close of poor Julia's pure-hearted romance.

painful attempts to reconcile them-her hus“That winter's eve how darkly Nature's brow band's grudges at her absence on those erScowl'd on the scenes it lights so lovely now! rands—their teazing visits to him-and his The tempest, raging o'er the realms of ice, Shook fragments from the rifted precipice;

vexation at their false reports that she was to And whilst their falling echoed to the wind,

spend “yet a fortnight” away from him. We The woll's long howl in dismal discord join'd, object equally to the substance and the dicWhile white yon water's foam was rais'd in clouds tion of the passages to which we now refer. That whirl'd like spirits wailing in their shrouds : There is something questionable even in the Without was Nature's elemental din

fatal indications by which, on approaching And Beauty died, and Friendship wept within !

his home, he was first made aware of the “Sweet Julia, though her fate was finish'd half, calamity which had befallen him—though Still knew him--smild on him with feeble laugh- undoubiedly there is a terrible truth and imAnd blest him, till she drew her latest sigh!

pressive brevity in the passage. “ But lo! while Udolph's bursts of agony, And age's tremulous wailings, round him rose,

"Nor hope left utterly his breast, What accents pierced him deeper yet than those ! Till reaching home, ierrific omen! there 'Twas tidings-by his English messenger

The straw-laid street preluded his despair or Constance-brief and terrible they were," &c. The servant's look-the table that reveal'd

pp. 35, 36.

His letter sent to Constance last, still seal'd,

Though speech and hearing left bim, told too clear These must suffice as specimens of the That he had now to suffer—not to fear!"-p. 37. Swiss part of the poem, which we have already said we consider as on the whole the We shall only add the pathetic letter in most perfect. The English portion is un- which this noble spirit sought, from her deathdoubtedly liable to the imputation of being bed, to soothe the beloved husband she was occupied with scenes too familiar, and events leaving with so much reluctance. too trivial, to admit of the higher embellish

“ • Theodric! this is destiny above ments of poetry. The occasion of Theodric's Our power to baffle! Bear it then, my love! first seeing Constance-in the streets of Lon. Your soul, I know, as firm is knit io mine don on a night of public rejoicing—certainly As these clasp'd hands in blessing you now join : trespasses on the borders of this wilful stoop- Shape not imagin'd horrors in my fateing of the Muses' flight—though the scene

Ev’n now my suff'rings are not very great; itself is described with great force and beauty. I call upon your strength of soul and pride

And when your grief's first transports shall sub

(side, • 'Twas a glorious sight!

To pay my memory, if 'lis worth the debt At eve stupendous London, clad in light,

Love's glorifying tribute-not forlorn regret : Pour'd out triumphant multitudes to gaze;

I charge my name with power to conjure up Youth, age, wealth, penury, smiling in the blaze!

Reflection's balmy, not its bitter cup. Ih' illumin'd atmosphere was warm and bland,

My pard' ning angel, at the gates of Heaven, And Beauty's groups the fairest of the land,

Shall look not more regard than you have given Conspicuous, as in some wide festive room,

To me: and our life's union has been clad In open chariots pass'd, with pearl and plume.

In smiles of bliss as sweet as life e'er had.
Amidst them he remark'd a lovelier mien," &c.

Shall gloom be from such bright remembrance cast?
Shall bitterness outflow from sweetness past?

No! imaged in the sanctuary of your breast, The description of Constance herself, how- There let me smile, amidst high thoughts at rest ; ever, is not liable to this, or to any other ob- And let contentment on your spirit shine, section.

As if its peace were still a part of mine :

For if you war not proudly with your pain, ." And to know her well

For you I shall have worse than liv'd in vain. Prolong'd, exalted, bound, enchantment's spell ; But I conjure your manliness to bear For with affections warm, intense, refin'd,

My loss with noble spirit-not despair : She mix'd such calm and holy strength of mind, I ask you by our love to promise this! That, like Heav'n's image in the smiling brook, And kiss these words, where I have left a kissCelestial peace was pictur’d in her look.

The latest from my living lips for yours?'lers was the brow, in trials unperplex'd,

pp. 39–41. That cheer'd the sad and tranquilliz'd the vex'd. She studied not the meanest to eclipse,

The tone of this tender farewell must reAnd yet the wisest listen'd to her lips;

mind all our readers of the catastrophe of She sang not, knew not Music's magic skill, Gertrude; and certainly exposes the author tu But yet her voice had tones that sway'd the will." the charge of some poverty of invention in “To paint that being to a grov'ling mind

the structure of his pathetic narratives Were like pourtraying pictures to the blind.

charge from which we are not at this moment 'Twas needful ev'n infectiously to feel

particularly solicitous to defend him. Her temper's fond, and firm, and gladsome zeal, The ininor poems which occupy the rest of

p. 15.

p. 16.

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