Retrospect of Domestic Literature.—~ Poetry. 
Fills yonder gourd, as slowly it distil!s, 
, Grows sour at once if Lorrinite pass by. 
The deadliest worm, from whivh all creas 
tures fly, oy) 
Fled from the deadlier venom of her eye; 
The babe unborn, within its mother’s 
womb, 
Started and trembled when the witch came 
nigh 3 
Andin the silent chambers of the tomb, 
Death shudders her unholy tread to hear; 
And from the dry, and mouldering bones 
did fear : 
Force a cold sweat, when LCorrinite was 
near.”? 
Nor can we pass such a stanza. as 
the following, in the twelfth canto: it 
contains the moral of the poem. 
** Seek not to know, old Casyapa replied, 
What pleaseth heaven to bide, 
Dark is the abyss of time, 
Sut light enough toy guide your steps is 
given ; 
Whatever weal or woe betide, 
Turn never fromthe way of truth aside, 
~ And leave the event, in holy hope, to hea- 
ven. 
The moment is at hand, no more de-. 
lay, 
Ascend the etherial bark, and go your 
way ; 
And ye of heavenly nature follow me.” 
Another extract from the thirteenth 
canto, and we shall have done ‘our 
duty. It is the description of the 
Banian tree. _ sigrat 
«°'Twasa fair scene wherein they stood, 
A green and sunny glade amid the wood, 
And in the midst an aged Banian grew, 
It was a goodly sight to see 
That venerable tree, 
For o’er the lawn irregularly spread; 
Fifty strait columns propt its lofty head ; 
And many a long depending shoot, 
Seeking to strike its root. 
Strait like a plummet, grew 
ground. 
Some on the fower boughs which crost 
their way, 3 
. Fixing their bearded fibres, round and 
round, 
With many a ring and wild contortion 
wound ; ; 
Some to the passing wind at times, with 
sway 
Of gentle motion swung, 
Others of younger growth unmov’d, were 
hung 
Like stone-drops from the cavern’s fret- 
ted height. 
Beneath was smooth and fair to 
sight, 
Nor weeds nor briars, deform’d the na- 
tural fluor, say 
And through the leafy cope which bower’d 
it o’er ry 
Came gleams of checquered lisht. 
So like a temple did it seem ‘that there 
towards the 
A pious heart’s. first impulse would be © 
prayer,” 
675 
Although the stanzas are irregular,, 
we have no hesitation in saying that 
*¢ The Curse of Kebama’’ is more uni- 
formly beautiful than almost any pro- 
duction of the kind we have seen of 
late years. 
. The present century hath been the. 
age of chivalry in literature, so far as 
the fair sexsare concerned. Catharine 
Macauley as an historian, and Hannah 
More as a moralist have reflected a 
lustre on their country, which is en- 
hanced by the cousideration that they 
belong to.a sex which, in Great Britain 
at least, hath not been heretofore dis. 
tinguished for other than domestic 
virtues. The benefits of a liberal or 
rather a classical edueation, however, 
are now reguiarly extended to the 
' softer sex, and they have amply repaid 
the pains which their instructors have 
bestowed. In the department of poetry 
in particular, our fair counirywomen 
have repeatedly of late put i their 
claims to immortality, and have _prev- 
ed that although they cannot always 
bend the how of Ulysses, the lyre of 
Apollo ever beais responsive to their’ 
cadences. The names of Robinson, 
Smith and Wolstoncraft, are scarcely 
cold in our recoliéction, when a groupe 
of female. candidates for literary 
fame is seen’ crowding towards the 
temple, which is decorated with their 
monuments. Amongthese the most 
conspicuous is Miss Mrrrorp, whose 
little volume is now beforeus. The early 
age at which this young lady launches 
her hark in the sea of poetical warfare 
would soften the brow of the most 
rigid among the critics, but on turn- 
ing to her performances we find.much 
which commands approbation, and but 
little, for which to deprecate severity. 
There is a measured sweetness in her 
yersification, which, while it seems to 
shew. the affectation of boldness or- 
originality, hath nevertheless succeed. 
ed in many instances in giving utter- 
ance to ideas, which to us at least, are 
stamped wilh allthe fire of genius and 
imagination. Her verses to May, 1808, 
will ever endear her reputation, to the 
admirers of true poetry, and to those 
for whom nature arrayed in truth and 
simplicity hath still some charms. That 
there are no faulis in Miss Mitford’s 
volume, would be to say too much 
that they are curable, however, we 
have no doubt will be satisfactorily 
proved by the publication of the future 
productions of her chaste and elegant 
muse, ~ ia 
Mr. Pratr also has favoured the 
public with one of the most interesting 
poems 
