The book of gemsThe modern poets and artists of Great Britain . ome-duties of wife and mother have been to her productive of morepleasant and far happier results than struggles for distinction amid crowds; she hasmade her reputation quietly but securely; and has laboured successfully as well as ear-nestly to inculcate virtue as the noblest attribute of an English woman. If there be someof her contemporaries who have surpassed her in the higher qualities of poetry,—somewho have soared higher, and others who have taken a wider range,—there are none whosewritings are better calculated to delight
The book of gemsThe modern poets and artists of Great Britain . ome-duties of wife and mother have been to her productive of morepleasant and far happier results than struggles for distinction amid crowds; she hasmade her reputation quietly but securely; and has laboured successfully as well as ear-nestly to inculcate virtue as the noblest attribute of an English woman. If there be someof her contemporaries who have surpassed her in the higher qualities of poetry,—somewho have soared higher, and others who have taken a wider range,—there are none whosewritings are better calculated to delight as well as inform. Her poems are always grace-ful and beautiful, and often vigorous ; but they are essentially feminine : they afford evi-dence of a kindly and generous nature, as well as of a fertile imagination, and a safely-cultivated mind. She is entitled to a high place among the Poets of Great Britain; anda still higher among those of her sex by whom the intellectual rank of woman has beenasserted without presumption, and maintained without HOWITT. AN OLID MANS STORY. There was an old and quiet man, And by the fire sate he ;And now, he said, to you Ill tellA dismal thing, which once befel In a ship upon the sea, Tis five-and-fifty years gone , from the river Plate, A young man, in a home-bound ship,I sailed as second mate. She was a trim, stout-timbered ship. And built for stormy seas,A lovely thing on the wave was her canvass set so gallantlyBefore a steady breeze,o o 2 284 HOWITT. For forty days, like a winged went before the all that time we slackened speed,Turnd helm, or alterd sail. She was a laden argosy Of wealth from the Spanish main,And the treasure hoards of a PortugueseReturning home again. An old and silent man was he. And his face was yellow and lean;In the golden lands of MexicoA miner he had been. His body was wasted, bent, and bowedAnd amid his gold he lay ;Amid iron chests that were bound with brassAnd he
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Keywords: ., bookauthorwordsworthcollection, bookce, booksubjectenglishpoetry
