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But, oh! in every inortal pang

That rends my soul from life,
That soul, which seems on you to hang

Through each convulsive strife,
Even now, with agonizing grasp

Of terror and regret,
To all in life its love would clasp

Clings close and closer yet.
Yet why, immortal, vital spark,

Thus mortally oppressed ?
Look up, my soul, through prospects dark

And bid thy terrors rest;
Forget, forego, thy earthly part,

Thine heavenly being trust :
Ah! vain attempt, my coward heart,

Still shuddering clings to dust!
O ye, who soothe the pangs of death,

With love's own patient care,
Still, still retain this fleeting breath,

Still pour the fervent prayer !
And ye whose smile must greet my eye

No more, nor voice mine ear,
Who breathe for me the tender sigh,

And shed the pitying tear,
Whose kindness (though far, far removed),

My grateful thoughts perceive,
Pride of my life, esteemed, beloved,

My last sad claim receive :
Oh, do not quite your friend forget,

Forget alone her faults ;
And speak of her with fond regret

Who asks your lingering thoughts." These were the last verses she ever wrote. Her premonition was fulfilled : she never saw the blue skies of another May, expiring on the 24th of March, 1810; not at Rosanna in the county of Wicklow, which was the home of her married life, but at Woodstock in the county of Kilkenny. Her friend, cousin, and brother-in-law, at whose house she died, has recorded that—“ Her fears of death were perfectly removed before she quitted this scene of trial and suffering, and her spirit departed to a better state of existence, confiding with heavenly joy in the acceptance and love of her Redeemer.”

Several poets have rendered tribute to her genius; none

more worthily than Felicia Hemans, who in 1828 wrote * The Grave of a Poetess,' of which the two last verses are remarkably appropriate :

“Thou hast left sorrow in thy song,

A voice not loud but deep;
The glorious bowers of earth among,

How often didst thou weep!
Where couldst thou fix, on mortal ground,

Thy tender thoughts and high?
Now peace the woman's heart hath found,

And joy the poet's eye." In 1831 Mrs. Hemans visited Woodstock, and saw both the house in which she died and the grave of Mrs. Tighe, in company with the widower and some of her other kinsfolk; admired the glorious local scenery, and the recumbent effigy by Flaxman, and read with intense interest a manuscript collection of Mrs. Tighe's early poems. After having seen these memorials, Mrs. Hemans wrote her verses ‘On Records of Immature Genius.' “Oh! judge in thoughtful tenderness of those

Who richly dowered for life are called to die
Ere the soul's flame through storms hath won repose,

In truth's divinest ether, still and high;

Let their mind's riches claim a truthful sigh :
Deem them but sad, sweet fragments of a strain,

First notes of some yet struggling harmony,
By the strong rush, the crowding joy and pain
Of many inspirations met, and held
From its true sphere; oh! soon it might have swelled

Majestically forth! No doubt that He
Whose touch mysterious, may on earth dissolve
Those links of music, elsewhere will evolve

Their grand consummate hymn, from passion-gusts made free."
Mrs. Hemans also wrote ‘Lines for the Album at Rosanna,'

“Where a sweet spirit once in beauty moved." A fourth poem, · Written after visiting a Tomb near Woodstock, in the county of Kilkenny,' bears little relation to Mrs. Tighe, excepting in five out of its forty-four lines, two of those five being exquisitely fine :

“Oh, Love and Song ! though of heaven your powers,

Dark is your fate in this world of ours.”

CHAPTER XIII.

THE POETESSES.

A.D. 1810-1825.

Mrs. Hunter - Mrs. Thrale - Jane Taylor — Eleanor Anne Porden

Mrs. Barbauld — Lady Anne Barnard.

“To mortal toils, of various kind,

Are sweet but different gifts assigned."*

ANNE HUNTER. ACCORDING to Burke's genealogy, Anne was the eldest daughter of Robert Home, Esquire, of Greenlaw Castle, in the county of Berwick. Robert Chambers, in his

Scottish Biography,' mentions her as the daughter of Mr. Boyne Home, surgeon of Burgoyne's Regiment of Light Horse, and both descriptions are probably consistent and correct. She was born in 1742. While John Hunter, the great surgeon and natural philosopher, was rising to eminence, love for this beautiful and accomplished woman stimulated his efforts to overcome the obstacle of poverty, and to procure the means of suitable maintenance for one whom he deemed well suited to be both a household joy and an ornament to any station in society. The attachment was mutual, and, after a delay of several years, they were married in the year 1771. Her younger brother, afterwards Sir Everard Home, Baronet, was then a boy at

* Pindar's 1st Isthmian Ode; translated by Wheelwright.

Westminster School, and John Hunter generously undertook to bring him up to his own profession. Mr. and Mrs. Hunter had several children, of whom only two attained maturity, meriting their father's frequent boast " that if he had been allowed to bespeak a pair of children, they should have been those with which Providence had favoured him.” The son became a major in the army, the daughter married General Campbell, of Inverneil.

Mrs. Hunter's amiable disposition rendered her deeply beloved by her family: her fine natural talents had been assiduously improved by cultivation, and she delighted in devoting them to the sacred purpose of soothing and gladdening her husband's toil-worn spirits. They kept a liberal house, entertained the best company, and when Mrs. Vesey's declining health incapacitated her from assembling the great, the learned, and the witty, for social intercourse, Mrs. Hunter threw open her reception rooms once a fortnight every winter to the same brilliant parties of educated talkers and thinkers of every class. Mrs. Hunter had fine musical abilities ; she played and sang with remarkable taste and skill, and the delicacy of her features and dignity of her person were universally attractive; nevertheless, her gentle and unassuming temper induced her to be only proud of owing everything to her distinguished husband, and to attribute all the admiration and attention which she met with to the world's estimation of his extraordinary merit. John Hunter's sudden death, on the 16th of October, 1793, in the sixty-fifth year of his age, left her a widow in easy though not affluent circumstances, and she subsequently withdrew into comparative retirement. In 1806, yielding to the persuasions of friends, she published a collection of her poems, many of which had been set to music by Haydn.

She died, at her house in Holles-street, on the 7th of January, 1821, in the seventy-ninth year of her age.

Feminine tenderness and delicacy of sentiment are the chief characteristics of her poetry, of which the following piece is a specimen :

The LOT OF THOUSANDS,
“When hope lies dead within the heart,

By secret sorrow close concealed,
We shrink lest looks or words impart

What must not be revealed.
'T is hard to smile when one would weep,

To speak when one would silent be,
To wake when one would wish to sleep,

And wake to agony.
Yet such the lot by thousands cast,

Who wander in this world of care,
And bend beneath the bitter blast,

To save them from despair.
But Nature waits her guests to greet

Where disappointment cannot come,
And Time guides with unerring feet,

The weary wanderers home." Queen Mary's Lament,' • My mother bids me bind my hair,' and other popular favourites are hers.

HESTER LYNCH THRALE. John Salusbury, Esquire, of Bachegraig, Flintshire, married, in the year 1739, Hester Maria, daughter of Sir Thomas Cotton, Baronet, of Combermere, in the county of Chester; and, on the 27th of January, 1740, Hester Lynch, their only child and heir, was born at Bodvil, in Caernarvonshire. With the advantages of gentle blood and patrimonial wealth she possessed great personal attractions, vivacious spirits, and those quick, keen, faculties of mind which justly entitle their possessor to be called a clever woman.

Her education was carefully attended to, and her many

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