Mary Tighe

William Henry Ireland, in Scribbleomania (1815) 79-80.

Tho' slumb'ring my Minstrel, and cold in the tomb,
Her ashes waft widely a fragrant perfume;
The genius of Tighe robing Psyche with grace,
And to Cupid assigning a rapturous race:
Here taste, fancy, reading, their requisites grant,
Which, combin'd, yield a theme that must always enchant;
For purity reigns with the faith of the dove,
And celestial perfection emblazons sweet Love.
Ye daughters of Eve, then, who feel inspiration,
To Psyche's sweet lays offer up an oblation;
Catch the fervor of Tighe, and no satyrists rash
Dare attack ye: so swears now Sir Scribblecumdash;
Who trusts that his praise, while it tends wit to flatter,
May check would-be writers, and thus prevent satire.

So many ladies have written, and still continue to produce trash, that no praise offered at the shrine of feminine excellence should be deemed fulsome; since the panegyric may prompt such unfortunate essayists to consult the productions of the personage so extolled, from whose style they may perhaps be prompted to correct their own effusions, or, if endowed with sense, to discriminate their natural inability, discard the pen, and thus relinquish all literary claims for ever. Independently of the poem of Cupid and Psyche, the lady now under Sir Noodle's review produced numerous other short effusions, all of which are characterized by every requisite that could tend to adorn a female of the most refined taste and exquisite sensibility.