iiPiiilliiiiiiilliiili :';;!''i^;' ■;;'■'!;';;'':' M = a ^^ <- M ^= ID m =^= D3 3 m n 6 ^ 4 m 7 = ^^ ■< 5 = 1> ^^= c^ 3 1 1 ^s 4 11 siii ' ^r. .,^..^m^ ^ ^/SdaAiNii-art^ ty-i %OJI1V3JO'^ ^OFCA11FO% fie :3 C-3 _ CO ■■>, "^aaMNL "^jaMNfi-aftv >r ^ :2 -^ 3 3 5r=If=]r=Jrdrdrdf=Jr^fdrdpJpdfdpJpJpJfdr:JrzJriJrdrdrdr:J rdr:Jtdr=Jr=Jg> ) n n n THE CROWNING OF THE BRITISH LIVING POETESSES. "tONDON: PRINTED FQR LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, AND GREEN, PAT£RNOSTER-RO\r. M.DCCC. XXVIII. ^BEJgEJ[^r=Jr=J r=if^PiJr=J pJr=Jr^f=Jr=Jrdr=JrdpJf=Jril r=J rJi^r:ilrJrJr^l Ik.. THE CROWNING or THE BRITISH LIVING POETESSES, " I DEEM THE BARD, WHOE'eR HE BE, AND HOWSOEVER KNOWN, WHO WOULD NOT TWINE A WREATH FOR YK, CNWORTHY OF HIS OWy." — Cowpei: LONDON: PRINTED rOR LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, AND GREEN, PATERNOSTER-ROW. M.DCCC.XXVII. LOKDON : :. MOVES, TOOK'S CODBT, CHANCERY LANK. OR • ' 57 TO THOSE WHOSE INVESTITURE THIS JEU d'eSPRIT IS DESIGNED TO CELEBRATE, AND WHO ALONE CAN FULLY COMPREHEND, AS IT IS BELIEVED THEY WILL READILY' FORGIVE, MANY OF ITS PLAYFUL ALLUSIONS, IT IS MOST RESPECTFULLY AND MOST CORDIALLY llnscribctf. November 1827- 810777 THE CROWNING Of THE BRITISH LIVING POETESSES. Apollo, one day, as he sat on his hill. In midst of the Muses that wait round him still, — Their talk having turned on their votaries in Britain,- He put all at once a contemplative fit on ; Then cried, on a sudden, — " Yes, so it shall be, And Calliope ably will represent me !" The Maids, to his godship's vagaries long used, Were far less surprised at this speech than amused ; THE CROWNING OF THE But the suppliant Calliope hastened to speak : " O Phoebus ! why implicate me in yourfreak ?" Half angry, the god took an air rather grave, And shook the gold locks o'er his forehead that wave ; " You Ladies," he said, " should be last to complain, , If to practise the plan I have purposed I deign : You must know then," he added, and smiled as he spoke, " O'er my brain that the brightest idea has broke ! You have oft heard me mention what cordial regards I bear to my loyal Britannian bards. And ' the Feast of the Poets'* describes, as you know, The honours I granted them some time ago ; But it cross'd me just now, in the hovering dream That lighted upon me, when wrapt in this theme, — As a strange and a crying omission, that while Some names 'mongst the fair that embellish their isle, * See the " Feast of the Poets," by Leigh Hunt, Esq. BRITISH LIVIXG POETESSES. I may set in my frontlet, its circle to gem, I have publicly shewn no such honours to them. Forgive it, Astraa ! — but hark, for I see Your interest awoke, and you'll listen with glee While my scheme I develop. The scene (to begin). Shall be meetly enacted that temple within ■\VTiich hath lately arisen, hypoethric, to view, Reared high in its grandeur, at Athens the new.* I'll empower Calliope there to preside. Arrayed in all pomp of Parnassian pride ; For holding a court where but ladies are seen. Less appropriate seems to a king than a queen ; And though," said the god, while his fair cheek was cross'd By the blush. rose, " no regular bride I can boast, Like my good brother George I am fortunate still In illustrious sisters such function to fill." * The new edifice on the Calton HiU, of which we have heard so much :— less adapted, however, to the literal than moral atmosphere of Modern Athens. THE CROWNING OF THE The chief of the Nine, to the plan reconciled, Recovering her spirits, most gratefully smiled At the thought of the honourable post she had won, And the compliment paid, T\'hile Apollo went on : " She shall give to each fair, on that drawing-room day. Who may then be entitled to claim the entree. And may seem to my delegate worthy such honour,* A wreath, that the IMuse shall herself put upon her, Whose fadeless material my Daphne shall give, And my own royalf finger industrious weave. They'll like it as well as a dinner at least. And laurel is cheaper by far than a feast ; 1 1 had been intended to attempt a short imitation of the peculiar style of each Lady-poet, in the shape of a propitiatory address to the presiding Muse ; but this design was abandoned from a fear of possible offence to some of those whom the writer would be most unwilling to displease. . "Ava| mdipyo; A'^oXKcov. lA. (p 461 . BRITISH LIVIXG POETESSES. Indeed, I much fear that my credit would fail Again to procure such a sumptuous regale As that which I gave to the poets, for still, I rather believe, I'm in debt for the bill.* I mean not, this time, to provide even tea ; But if 'mid the votaries. Calliope see Any fair who complains of the drought on her lip. She may bid her come here, of our nectar to sip. This, this is my purpose, nor will I delay To our fair devotees the due honours to pa v." The god closed his speech, and the Muses, obedient, Declared such a measure was highly expedient : But we haste to pass over the long preparation Preceding, of course, such a solemn occasion, Nor stay to relate how the land of the North Was set in commotion from Moray to Forth ; « Like master like man—" poor poets are debtors oft." 10 THE CROWXIXG OF THE And the realm of the Southron pour'd many a train, To gaze on the scene that should hallow the fane ; — The various feelings to guess and portray With which the fair actors awaited the day ; How one was afraid that the concourse would press, And hurry her nerves, or disorder her dress ; And many another, it must be confest, That she should not, or might not, he " looking her best." How poor Mrs. Opie was truly a Quaker Lest her newly-ta'en garb should conspicuous make her, And rather in doubt tliat this same expedition Might incur, if not " dealing," at least " admonition."* How I^andon was sorely perplex'd what to wear, Nor Hemans resolved as to flowers in her hair. And Mitford alarm'd lest the people should stare ; * Terms employed in a peculiar sense among the respected society of which Mrs. Opie has lately become a member. BRITISH LIVING POETESSES. 11 How the great Mary Anne, in each sense great indeed ! Was puzzled to get herself north of the Tweed, And ponder'd and waver'd which way she should go. Whether steam, or ten cattle, should take her in tow. How Hannah long hesitates whether 'twas good At her age, on such errand, to quit Barley Wood Where Quiet with Natm-e and Flora reposes — And leave at a distance her glow-worms and roses- How Fry, hands and eyes did lift up at the thought. Nor till many a clerical counsel was sought. Could see her path clear to a gathering so vain ; As the court of the Muse and her drawing-room train. All this, and much more, we must briefly pass o'er. The day it is come, and we haste to the dome ; liaying up all we view in our memory's store. For the good of the curious who linger at home. 12 THE CROWNING OF THE The fane was festoon'd with full garnish of flowers, And laurel enwreathed from terrestrial bowers ; But the chaplets of honour that came from afar, Calliope brought in the floor of her car. A goddess she look'd, and she moved as a queen, When she cross'd the fair shrine to the canopy green, O'erarching the throne of her crowded demesne ; For " Beauty and Fashion," on right and on left Were ranged, while the midst for the votaries was kept The first on the legate of Phoebus to wait Was the gifted Johanna, and she came in state ; For she, hke her namesake of fanatic fame, Can many a personal devotee claim : Her carriage was built of Parnassian cedars, And steeds of Pegasian breed were the leaders ; The panels were carved in most classical fashions. And painted with scenes from her " Plays of the Passions ;" BRITISH LIVING POETESSES. 13 And as she alighted, arrived at the fane, Sotheby let down the step, and Scott lifted her train. A flame-coloured vest of rich velvet she wore. And a scarf of the rainbow her shoulder thrown o'er ; A treasury of pearl round the vestment was shed. Like a silvery stream o'er its bright pebbled bed, Or — fitlier figure for subject so high ! Like the galaxy traced on the brilliant sky ; But her head-gear was plain, for she reckon'd right well On winning the wreath that all gems should excel : Nor vain was her trust, for the moment she came. The Muse held aloft the fair circlet of fame. And said, with a warmth that was shared with respect, " In a scene like the present, you will not expect, 'Mid the hurry of business that brooks not delay, I should tell you the half I was charged to convey." Then, placing the wreath, added, " All I can do, Just now, is thus barely to give you your due." 14 THE CROWNING OF THE ]\Iiss Baillie liad scarcely retired, when arose A sweeping of strings, and a sweeping of clothes ; And all could discern in the guise of the fair, Her lyre bound with myrtle — with myrtle her hair — The chords that for ever her fingers were touching, Except when her train drew her ear with its brushing, Her numberless trinkets and gorgeous vest, And the great " Golden Violet" displayed on her breast. Her eye so illum'd, and her air so bewitchy, That it could be none else than the " Impfovisatrice ;" Yet a rumour at first through the concourse was spread. That 'twas Lesbian Sappho rose up from the dead — (The fire of her glance, and her languishing bearing. Might serve to excuse a suggestion so daring) ; At her entrance, she look'd on the Muse rather glum. For she thought her own Erato perhaps might have <:ome ; She shew'd on each side of her loose-streaming hair — a Profusion of brilliants in circling tiara, — BRITISH LIVING POETESSES. 15 "UTiile many were genuine, many were paste — And bows of all colours were stuck round her waist. As she bent a firm step to Calliope's chair, The Muse seem'd to gaze with indifferent air ; But remembering the sensitive make of the maid, And her ' fine gold ' of genius, though sometimes allay'd, She put on a smile — a bright chaplet display'd And said, " If you wish for the garland I give. That when tinsel has perish'd immortal shall live. You must, ere you win it, discumber your brow Of the glittering crescent that spangles it now: Believe me, they ne'er can together be seen — And the world will allow that this fillet of green, Which I freely bestow, better suits with your mien." The damsel, subdued, took her brilliants down. Replaced by the simpler Castalian crown — And the critic, too honest to need that he swear it. Sincerely ejaculates — long may she wear it ! 16 THE CROWNING OF THE But whose is that gradual approach that we hear, The motion infirm that scarce silence can stir, That invalid face, worn as autumn's sear leaves, That reverend figure, with length of lawn sleeves — In one hand a book, in the other a stafi'. With an eye that still shines, and with lips that still laugh. Calliope sees it advance, with surprise No less than with pleasure, and hastens to rise And welcome the elderly lady (for such It proved, though its garb with the church fitted much) ; " Though seldom of late to our regions you roam," Cried the Bluse, " yet I hoped that you'd settle to come, If years and ill-health did not keep you at home ; And I were as recreant to taste as civility, If I greeted not thus her that wrote ' Sensibility.'* • See Mrs. Hannah More's very beautiful poem with this title, in- tcribed to the Hon. Mrs. Boscawen. BRITISH LIVING POETESSES. 17 "What book have yoii there r Is it any thing new From your own tinished pencil ? allow me to view." " 'Tis intended for you," with a sparkling eye And a gratified smile, did the authoress reply. " A work of my own, it is true, but its date Rather ancient, my *• Thoughts on the Ways of the Great:' If I had not aspired to do somewhat of good, I had scarce, at this age, left my cot in the wood, From shining a sun, to rise here like a star — * And brought my own coachman and horses so far ; But th' occasion seem'd fair for me just to advert To the life you all lead on the hill — to the hurt Of your credit, no less than the general scandal E'en Phcebus himself (now don't deem me a Vandal) * For though so eminently distinguished as a writer of prose, this accomplished author only slmies as a star of lesser magnitude in the hemisphere of verse; like some others afterwards alluded to, with whose names, however, the writer was anxious to embellisli liis jiages. 18 THE CROWNING OF THE Yes Phoebus himself, you'll allow me to say, Thoiigh we wink'cl at his youth, is still desperately gay; And think how the poets his example must sway ! So I venture to beg you will take an occasion, Upon your return, to direct conversation. On the iUs, from sucli pattern, that oft may befall, And shew him my book, which is meant for you all You doubt if he'll read it, I see, by your smile. But, at least, he might not be displeased with the style." The lecture concluded, the good Hannah More — (Though the reader has guess'd who it was long before) — Her offering presented, and bent her adieu. When the Muse, who'd been thoughtful a moment or two, Reverting to action, cried, " Ne'er shall you go. My excellent friend ! till a boon I bestow In my turn, not e'en t/our acceptance beneath" — And bound her gray locks with the genuine wreath. BRITISH LIVING POETESSES. 19 A ladv, with little to note in her mien, Or her mode, was the next to appear on the scene ; She modestly sued and obtained the same favour, "Which Calliope, bending, most graciously gave her She wore a silk vesture of sedgy grepn net, With shell-work and pearl in rich broidery set ; "Wreathed coral her tresses confined from the breeze ; And they called her " Chi-istina, the Maid of the Seas."* A form, clad in robings of blood-crimsoned hue, Fringed with martial devices, now broke on the view. * See " Christina, tlie ISIaiJ of the South Seas," by Mary Mitfonl. N. B. The Author has been infonnetl, just as this little poem was going to press, that Mary Mitford and Mart/ Russell Mitf,rd, men- tioned at page 24, are one and the same person. If so, she has only the credit of two crowns instead of one ; and whether of the water or the land, is alike recognised as quite in her element ; and therefore it is, perhaps, scarcely worth while, further than by this note, to rectify the error. 20 THE CUOWXING OF THE She came with another, who also wore red. With javelins and crossbows in garniture spread ; Their bonnets of blue shewed the shadowy plume. And bright bloody-warrior enwreathed with the broom. From the ranks of some Amazon tribe have they sped ? Or the train of the Huntress with crescented head ? — No, 'tis not to Dian they bend, but her brother; For the one was Miss Holfoi'd, Miss Porter the other.* They seem'd in a talk that might apathy stir, But " Wallace !" was all that arrived at my ear. The Bluse eyed the dames with a favouring glance, As she mark'd them at once up the area advance : To this, she exdaim'd, " Here's a garland for you !" To that — " To your brow shall the laurel be due. For even your prose is to poetiy true ! * See Miss Holford's (now Mrs. HotUon's) " Wallace, or the Figlit of Falkirk," her earliest work, and Miss Porter's " Scottish Chiefs." BRITISH LIVING POETESSES. 21 But where is fair Anna IMaria, your sister ? Pray, tell her, tliat here I have sensihly miss'd her ; And give her a share of this chaplet divine, Which I've chosen so large with that very desig-n." A lady whose gaze ever pointed on high, Now fixes the notice of every eye ; Her matronly draperies that gracefully flow, Shine glittering, shot with all hues of the bow — While the silvery web that the gossamer spun. Drawn over the vest, tremliles bright in the sun ; Her gem-braided ringlets rich treasure enfold, As Chilian rushes the sand-grains of gold ; When she came at Calliope's footstool to bend, The Muse met her less as a judge than a friend. " Felicia," she cried, " though so given to caprice, We can none of us ever forget ' Modern Greece ;' 22 THE CROWNING OF THE And your classical lays, fraught with beauty and truth, Have even restored us a ' dream of our youth.'* A fame such as yours reflects glory on ours, Aud to mark some distinction I snatch'd from our bowers, And wove with your garland these ' flowers — bright flowers.' " * A slow, weighty tread was now heard on the floor, — 'Twas the liveliest genius and heaviest goer, That ever ascended the steep " hard to climb,"f — And gain'd a proud heiglit tow'rd its summit sublime. Few proofs of her claim to the entree we find, It is owned, save that best, — a poetical mind : * Fr6m Mrs. Hemans's charming little poem called " Flowers." t Beattie's Minstrel. BRITISH LIVING POETESSES. 23 Indeed, 'tvnU. be seen that this journey in part, She made with a view to her favourite art.* Meanwhile the Muse scrupled not to acknowledge E'en her of La Trappe, and the Port-Royal College, — (An erudite Hebraist, and scholar profound. At home both on classic and scriptural ground;) O'er the badge of the convent that circled her brow A fillet she twined from the genuine bough : — '■'■ Oh, rich in the treasures of fancy !" she cried, '^ Thus ours I confess you, and say it with pride, A poet in spirit, if not in the letter, But if you write rhj-nies you must versify better ; The story of Hernhut was pleasing, 'tis true, Yet none on our hill deem'd it worthy of you." Thus closing the audience, she turned to another. When the votary who seldom her penchant can smother, » Mrs. Schimmelpeoning patronises phrenology. 24 THE CROWNING OF THE And now came determined to set at defiance All court etiquette in the service of science, Made a sudden attempt on Calliope's skull, Who, once in her life, for a moment was dull In divining the cause of attack from that quarter, And prepared to admonish her insolent daiighter; But was pleasingly stopp'd by a flattering apology, Mixed up with a learned harangtie on " Phrenology," And assured that her head, in the strictest reality, Develop'd an organ of vast " ideality." In garment of gingham, and chapeuu de paillc Deck'd with many a flower of the wood and the vale ; Her apron of check, of black worsted her hose. With tippet and mittens for out-of-door clothes, Did sweet Russell IMitford trip up to the Muse; You might hear, as she trotted, the nails in her shoes ; BRITISH LIVING POF.TKSSKS- 25 Yet, wond'rous to tell, where her pocket-holes gape, They discover'd a slip of Italian crape ; And a kind of a gorget yclep'd a " Foscari" Was clasp'd round the throat of this marvellous IMary : 'Twas finished with tassels all gilded and gay. And seem'd, for a cottager's neck, so oulrt, That it look'd like a present, at first, or a pillage, — While the garrulous ma'id told a tale of " Our Village," Engaging the Muse with most winning inisticity ; — But, sudden, she doffs her straw-hat of simplicity, And throws back her tresses, discovering now. Not " the peasant's bronzed cheek," but " the high Dama's brow ;" * Her gingham disguise to the winds she has flung. And the accents of tragedy dwell on her tongue ; All this in a moment was charmingly acted, And soon as the player her part had enacted, • L(jiil ByroiVs Beppo. 26 THE CROWNING OF THE Calliope greeted her smiling and soft, And said, as she held the bright chaplet aloft, " What a happy assortment of trappings youVe chose, — My sweet little medley of poetry and prose ! If some be too coarse, there are others too fine, With less, I must tell you, of service than shine ; And your voice, on the stage, sounds a little bit hoarse, — But the garland you'll take as a matter of course." A dignified personage, next, from afar Came, partly by packet, and partly by car ; Her bearing was fitted esteem to inspire. And a rich Irish poplin her sober attire ; Yet a gay-flowing scarf o'er her shoulder was seen Of bright woven floss-work, as emerald green. 'Tis true that the talented Edgeworth, of poetry Can scarcely be reckon'd a regular votary ; — nniTISH LIVING POETESSES. 27 And yet to the aiith'ress whose versatile strain Can poetry nnravel, and " poeti-y explain,"* The Avreath, l)y the Muse, is decreed to be due, — 1' A judgment each i-eader will ratify too. But wlio is that figure involved in dark stuff Of buckram so stitf, or of hairbind so rough ; With plaited black bonnet, beat down in the caul, And lining of drab that draws notice from all? By a swain, from plain chariot handed, so kind, Who wears a broad brim, and no buttons behind ? — 'Tis Amelia, the newly " convinced" f and the fair, To the haunt of the flluses still wont to repair. * See Miss Edgeworth's " Poetry Explained." t This term, and all this detail of certain minute external peculiari- ties, however obscure to the general reader, will be quite intelligible to the initiated. 28 THE CROWNING OF THE Calliope smiled at the cut of the honnet, As she thought how the wreath would look balancing on it, And said to herself — " ^Vhat a marvellous change ! I could scarcely recall her in habit so strange:" Then thus she address'd her, in cordial voice, " Dear Opie, to see you once more I rejoice ; — I was almost afraid your new way was too strait To allow of a turn to this festival gate ; But your •• friends' are less rigid, I think, than of yore ; For 'tis well known that Barton and two or three more, ^Vho, however, as yet, do not court notoriety. Are not more of the Friends' than the 3Iuses' society : I have brought you a garland, and uow must request you Just to doff that grim bonnet before I invest you :" — The convert complying, reluctant display'd Her neat cap of cambric strained over her head. Which Calliope crown'd, and at parting she said — BRITISH LIVING POETESSES. 29 " Go, Amelia belov'd, new enjojTnents to find,"* But sometimes remember tlie scenes ' left behind.' " In vesture of white, with eye tearful Ijright, And a brow where the cj'press and pearl-drop unite. The tender-toned Wilson encounter'd publicity W^hh a graceful display of enchanting simplicity ; To her, and to Howitt, and each of that grade, "WTio rather the verse than the volume have made. To M^'illiams and Gore, and to Conder, and Rolls, To such busy B's, as Browne, Bowditch, and Bowles, To Caroline Fry, who had weather'd her doubt. If she on such enterprise ought to " turn out," — And to many another of worthier claim. Who yet would be shock'd should I mention her name, The Muse gave a leaf from the chaplet of fame. * From Mrs. Opie's elegant stanzas, beginning thus — " Go, youth belov"d, to distant glades, New friends, new hopes, new joys, to find," &c. 30 THE CROWNING OF THE And, ere she departed, she cried with a sigh, " Ah ! where are my favourites, Ehza and Tighe ? Eliza, who made of her ' Piercefield' a spot That in classical memoiy ne'er is forgot ! And Tighe, who in fancy could soar from the grove, ■\^^ith immortalized ' Psyche' through sether to I'ove ! Nor, alas ! these alone, do I miss from a scene Where, dwelt they in life, they had earhest heen, To wait on the IMnse that they loved, and receive The laurel- wreath worthy of Phoebus to weave : Yes, Bowdler, and Barbauld, and Taylor beside. Might have swell'd the assembly, its grace and its pride, Had our festival fallen on earlier tide !" But she loiter'd not long, for the day was nigh done. And she'd fix'd to go back in the car of the Sun ; Who now, as he turn'd tow'rd the west, o'er the pile. And the train that retired shed a fostering smile : — BRITISH LIVING POETESSES. 31 So we finish with smiles, as with smiles we begun The ephemeral course that our ditty has run ; An innocent critic that smiles all the way, Never harsh in its strictures, though harmlessly gay ; And pleased that our task is accomplish'd, we \'iew Its close with a smile, while the reader smiles too. THE KNU. I.ONnON' : J. .mo\Kj<, roOK'S cot rtr, CHANCER V I ASE, ^ , 1 .^•UKWER% ,,, >5^ ^ =3 I ,iAlfla•3V^^ -{Al-UBRAR' 0)i Nil 0): ,>^ #^-^g 0)3 0)1 ■21 c-» ^jiBssaf' |> 4<^ '>> ^E ^/.'lAv.v^.j^^f^ .^MEUNIVERS/A 1 if^ O t_3 %5 .v> iv. UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 000 364 753 4 -^ r*- (^