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Lines on various subjects, from the " Night Thought Book"

of Lady Blessington.

NIGHT.
1.31

"Yes, Night! I love thy silence and thy calm,
That o'er my spirits sheds a soothing balm,
Lifting my soul to brighter, purer spheres,
Far, far removed from this dark vale of tears.

2.

"There is a holiness, a blessed peace

In thy repose, that bids our sorrow cease;
That stills the passions in the hallowed breast,
And lulls the tortured feelings into rest."

FLOWERS.

"Flowers are the bright remembrances of youth;
They waft back, with their bland and odorous breath,
The joyous hours that only young life knows,
Ere we have learned that this fair earth hides graves.
They bring the cheek that's mouldering in the dust
Again before us, tinged with health's own rose-
They bring the voices we shall hear no more,
Whose tones were sweetest music to our ears;
They bring the hopes that faded one by one,
'Till nought was left to light our path but faith,
That we, too, like the flowers, should spring to life,

But not, like them, again e'er fade or die."

Lines of Lady Blessington unfinished: written on the back of a letter of Lord Durham, very much injured and defaced, dated July 28, 1837.

"At midnight's silent hour, when hushed in sleep,
They who have laboured or have sorrowed lie,
Learning from slumber how 'tis sweet to die-

I love my vigils of the heart to keep;

For then fond Memory unlocks her store,
Which in the garish, noisy

Then comes reflection musing on the lore
And precepts of pure mild philosophy.
Sweet voices-silent now

Bless my

charmed ear, sweet smiles are seen,
Tho' they who wore them long now dwell on high;
Where I shall meet them but with chastened mien,
To tell how dull was life where they were not,

And that they never, never were forgot.'

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Unfinished lines in pencil, with numerous corrections and alterations, in the hand-writing of Lady Blessington, apparently of a recent date.

"And years, long weary years, have rolled away,

Since youth with all its sunny smiles has fled,
And hope within this saddened breast is dead,
To gloomy doubts and dark despair a prey,
Turning from pleasure's flow'ry path astray,
To haunts where melancholy thoughts are bred,
And meditation broods with inward dread,
Amidst the shades of pensive twilight gray.
Yet has this heart not ceased to thrill with pain,
Tho' joy can make its pulses beat no more;
Its wish to reach indifference is vain,

And will be, till life's fitful fever's o'er,
And it has reached the dim and silent shore,

Where sorrow it shall never know again.
Like to a stream whose current's frozen o'er,
Yet still flows on beneath its icy

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On the same sheet of paper as that on which the preceding lines are written, there are the following fragments of verse, evidently composed in the same thoughtful mood as the previous lines of a retrospective character.

"But tho' the lily root in earth,
Lies an unsightly thing,

Yet thence the flow'ret hath its birth,

And into light will spring.

So when this form is in the dust,*

Of mortals all, the lot,

Oh may my soul its prison burst,

Its errors all forgot!"

Other lines unfinished, in a MS. book of Lady Blessington,

in her hand-writing.

"The smile that plays around the lips

When sorrow preys upon our hearts,
Is like the flowers with which we deck
The youthful corpse, ere it departs
For ever, to the silent grave,

From those who would have died to save.”

A fragment in pencilling, in another common-place book of Lady Blessington, in her Ladyship's hand-writing, but no date or signature.

66

Pardon, oh Lord! if this too sinful heart,

Ingrate to thee, didst for a mortal feel

Love all too pure for earth to have a part.

Pardon-for lowly at thy feet I kneel:

Bowed to the dust, my heart, like a crushed flower,

Yields all remaining sweetness at thy shrine.

Thou only, Lord of mercy, now hath power

To bid repose and hope again be mine.

Chase from this fond and too long tortured breast,
Thoughts that intrude to steal my soul from thee;
Aid me within a cloister to find rest,

When I from sin and passion shall be free."

No one who ever knew Lady Blessington would, and perhaps few persons who may chance to read those pages, will refuse to say, "Amen, to that sweet prayer.”

* A line has here been erased.

250

CHAPTER XI.

NOTICES OF THE WRITINGS OF LADY BLESSINGTON, ETC.

It would be absurd to lay claim for Lady Blessington, to the great attributes of first-rate intellectual excellence, original, creative, and inventive genius of a high order, combining vigour of mind, strength of imagination, and depth of feeling, and displaying its mastery in graphic powers of delineation and description; giving a vivid look and life-like appearance to every thing it paints in words.

It would be a folly to seek in the mental gifts and graces of Lady Blessington, for evidences of the divine inspirations of exalted genius endowed with all its instincts and ideality, favoured with bright visions of the upper regions of poetry and fiction, with glimpses of ethereal realms, peopled with shadowy forms and spiritualized beings with glorious attributes and perfections, or to imagine we are to discover in her writings sublime conceptions of the grand, the beautiful, the chivalrous, or supernatural. The realization of great ideas, without encumbering the representation of ideal objects with material images and earthly associations, belongs only to genius of the first order; and between that power and mere graceful talent, fine taste, shrewdness of mind, and quickness of apprehension, there is a great difference, and there are many degrees of intellectual excellence.

It is very questionable if any of the works of Lady Blessington, with the exception of the "Conversations with Lord Byron," and perhaps the "Idler in Italy," will maintain

a permanent position in English miscellaneous literature. The interest taken in the writer was the main source of the temporary interest that was felt in her literary performances. The master-thinker of the last century has truly observed -"An author bustling in the world, shewing himself in public, and emerging occasionally from time to time into notice, might keep his works alive by his personal influence; but that which conveys little information, and gives no great pleasure, must soon give way, as the succession of things produces new topics of conversation, and other modes of amusement."*

Lady Blessington commenced her career of authorship in 1822. Her first work, entitled, "The Magic Lantern; or Sketches of Scenes in the Metropolis," was published by Longman in that year, in one volume 8vo.

The work was written evidently by one wholly inexperienced in the ways of authorship. There were obvious marks in it, however, of cleverness, quickness of perception, shrewdness of observation, and of kindly feelings, though occasionally sarcastic tendencies prevailed over them. There were evidences in that production, moreover, of a natural turn for humour and drollery, strong sensibility also, and some graphic powers of description in her accounts of affecting in

cidents.

The sketches in the "Magic Lantern," are-the Auction, the Park, the Tomb, the Italian Opera.

A second edition of the "Magic Lantern" was published soon after the first. There is a draft of a preface in her Ladyship's hand-writing, intended for this edition, among her papers, with the following lines :-

"If some my Magic Lantern should offend,

The fault's not mine, for scandal's not my end;

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