Felicia Hemans

Anonymous, in "The Crowning of the Living British Poetesses" The Literary Gazette (30 June 1827) 413.

A lady whose gaze ever pointed on high,
Now fixes the notice of every eye;
Her matronly draperies that gracefully flow,
Shine glitteringly, shot with all hues of the bow—
While the silvery web that the gossamer spun,
Drawn over the vest, trembles bright in the sun;
Her gem-braided ringlets rich treasure unfold,
As Chilian rushes the sand-grains of gold;
When she came at Calliope's footstool to bend,
The Muse met her less as a judge than a friend.
"Felicia," she cried, "though so given to caprice,
We can none of us ever forget 'Modern Greece;'
And your classical lays, fraught with beauty and truth,
Have even restored us a 'dream of our youth.'
A fame such as yours reflects glory on ours,
And to mark some distinction I snatch'd from our bowers,
And wove with your garland these 'flowers — bright flowers.'"