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natural phenomena-has great felicity of diction and expressionand altogether possesses more of the power and fertility of the master than any other of the author's works.
Besides the works we have enumerated, Mr. Montgomery •threw off a number of small effusions, published in different periodicals, and short translations from Dante and Petrarch. On his retirement in 1825 from the “invidious station’ of newspaper editor, which he had maintained for more than thirty years, through good report and evil report, his friends and neighbours of Sheffield, of every shade of political and religious distinction invited him to a public entertainment, at which the late Earl Fitzwilliam presided. There the happy and grateful poet 'ran through the story of his life even from his boyish days,' when he came amongst them, friendless and a stranger, from his retirement at Fulneck among the Moravian brethren, by whom he was educated in all but knowledge of the world. He spoke with pardonable pride of the success which had crowned his labours as an author. Not, indeed,' he said 'with fame and fortune, as these were lavished on my greater contemporaries, in comparison with whose magnificent possessions on the British Parnassus my small plot of ground is no more than Naboth's vineyard to Ahab's kingdom; but it is my own; it is no copyhold; I borrowed it, I leased it from none. Every foot of it I enclosed from the common myself; and I can say that not an inch which I had once gained have I ever lost.' In 1830 and 1831 Mr. Montgomery was selected to deliver a course of lectures at the Royal Institution on Poetry and General Literature, which he prepared for the press, and published in 1833. A pension of £200 per annum was, at the instance of Sir Robert Peel, conferred upon Mr. Montgomery, which he enjoyed till his death in 1854, at the ripe age of eighty-three. A collected edition of his works, with autobiographical and illustrative matter, was issued in 1841 in four volumes, and Memoirs of his Life and Writings have been published by two of his friends, John Holland and James Everett. A tone of generous and enlightened morality pervades all the writings of this poet. He was the enemy of the slave-trade and of every form of oppression, and the warm friend of every scheme of philanthropy and improvement. The pious and devotional feelings displayed in his early effusions colour all his poetry. In description, however, he is not less happy; and in his 'Greenland' and 'Pelican Island' there are passages of great beauty, evincing a refined taste and judgment in the selection of his materials. His late works had more vigour and variety than those by which he first became distinguished. Indeed, his fame was long confined to what is termed the religious world, till he shewed, by his cultivation of different styles of poetry, that his depth and sincerity of feeling, the simplicity of his taste, and the picturesque beauty of his language, were not restricted to purely spiritual themes. His smaller poems enjoy a popularity almost equal to those of Moore, which, though differing widely in subject, they resemble in their musical flow, and their compendious happy expression and imagery.
Hark! through the calm and silence of the scene,
From yonder deck, where, on the stern retired, 1 The term ice-blink is generally applied hy mariners to the nocturnal illumination in the heavens, which denotes to them the proximity of ice-mountains. In this place a de scription is attempted of the most stupendous accumulation of ice in the known world, which has been long distinguished by this peculiar name by the Danish navigators. MONTGOMERY.
Three humble voyagers, (1) with looks inspired,
They sleep; but memory wakes; and dreams array
'Tis morn: the bathing moon her lustre shrouds;
1 The first Christian missionaries to Greenland.
Where is the vessel ? Shining through the light,
The full moon's earliest glance, How sweet, when labours close, That brings into the home-sick mind To gather round an aching breast
All we have loved and left behind.
Brooding on hours misspent,
To see the spectre of despair Night is the time for dreams;
Come to our lonely tent; The gay romance of life,
Like Brutus, 'midst his slumbering host, When truth that is, and truth that scems, Summoned to die by Cæsar's ghost.
Blend in fantastic strife;
Night is the time to think;
Takes flight, and on the utmost brink Night is the time for toil;
Of yonder starry pole, To plough the classic field,
Discerns beyond the abyss of night Intent to find the buried spoil
The dawn of uncreated light.
Night is the time to pray;
Our Saviour oft withdrew
To desert mountains far away; Night is the time to weep;
So will his followers do; 'io wet with unseen tears
Steal from the throng to haunts untrod, Those graves of memory where sleep And commune there alone with God.
The joys of other years;
Calmly to yield the weary breath
From sin and suffering cease : On ocean's dark expanse
Think of heaven's bliss, and give the sign To bail the Pleiades, or catch
To parting friends-such death be mine!
It closed, sunk dwindled to a point, then nothing;
The aspiring fish that fain would be a bird,
Its lovely links had power to bind Beforu a marble palace, threw
In welcome chains my wandering mind. To heaver its column, pure and bright,
Returning thence in showers of dew';. So thought I when I saw the face But soon a humbler course it took,
By happy portraiture revealed, And glid away a nameless brook.
Of one adorned with every grace,
Her name and date from me concealed, Flowers on its grassy margin sprang, But not her story; she had been
Flies o'er its eddying surface played; The pride of many a splendid scene. Birds 'midst the alder-branches sang, Flocks through the verdant meadows She cast her glory round a court, strayed;
And frolicked in the gayest ring, The weary there lay down to rest, Where fashion's high-born minions sport And there the halcyon built her nest. Like sparkling fireflies on the wing;
But thence, when love had touched her 'Twas beautiful to stand and watch
From din, and pageantry, and strife, Yet all was cold and curious art,
'Midst woods and mountains, vales and That charmed the eye, but missed the .plains, heart.
She treads the paths of lowly life,
Yet in a bosom-circle reigns, Dearer to me the little stream,
No fountain scattering diamond-showWhose unimprisoned waters run,
ers, Wild as the changes of a dream, [sun; But the sweet streamlet watering flowers. By rock and glen, through shade and
Aspirations of Youth, Higher, higher, will we climb,
Onward ! onward, will we press
Through the path of duty;
Excellence true beauty.
Minds are of supernal birth, He who conquers, he who falls !
Let us make a heaven of earth. Deeper, deeper, let us toil
Closer, closer, then we knit In the mines of knowledge;
Hearts and hands together, Nature's wealth and learning's spoil, Where our fireside comforts sit, Win from school and college:
In the wildest weather ; Delve we there for richer gems
Oh, they wander wide who roam, Than the stars of diadems.
For the joys of life, from home.