ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION
Anne Maria W—, "On Reading the Castle of Otranto; an Italian Story" Walker's Hibernian Magazine (March 1796) 279.
1756: William Pulteney
1767: Jael Mendez
1769: William Shenstone
1775 ca.: Philotrantus
1780 ca.: William Cole
1783: Hannah More
1785: Ann Yearsley
1791: James Beattie
1791: Dr. John Wolcot
1795 ca.: Edmond Malone
1796: Henry Fuseli
1796: Anne Maria W.
1797: Thomas Green
1805: Anna Seward
1806: Richard Cumberland
1807: Robert Southey
1812: Isaac D'Israeli
1815: William Henry Ireland
1818: Rev. William Beloe
1818: William Hazlitt
1820: John Herman Merivale
1821: Lord Byron
1821: Sir Walter Scott
1822: John Wilson
1824: John Wilson Croker
1825 ca.: Henry Mackenzie
1832: John Taylor Esq.
1834: Sir Samuel Egerton Brydges
1842: C. H. Timperley
1849: Leigh Hunt
1852: Mary Russell Mitford
1863: George Daniel
Anne Maria W.:
1796: Horace Walpole
Farewel, Matilda! beauteous maid!
With tears thy fate I now deplore,
Thy tender heart by love betray'd,
Its woes with gentle meekness bore.
No sordid choice engaged thy mind,
'Twas manly sweetness, manly truth;
For all in Theodore combin'd,
That could adorn the noblest youth.
Thy generous love he well returned,
It ardent in his bosom glow'd;
For thee alone that bosom burn'd,
His love each word, each action show'd.
Dear lovely pair! how hard your fate!
By a stern father's wrath pursued,
In jealous rage — he saw too late,
A daughter's blood his hands imbrued.
O bless my father! heaven, she cried,
Forgive dear mother — Oh! forgive my death;
My Isabel — more I would say — she sighed,—
Then with her lover's name gave up her breath.
Farewel sweet maid! thy mournful life is past,
Thy sorrow's buried in the silent grave;
But ah! thy Theodore's too long must last,
To hopeless grief he's now a constant slave.
Unhappy youth! what woes can equal thine,
The flatterer Hope, from thee for ever flown;
In dark despair condemned thro' life to pine,
No fortune can for thy lost love atone.
'Tis death alone that now can end thy grief,
Death only, can Matilda now restore;
'Tis death alone can give thy heart relief,
In heaven you'll meet, and meet to part no more.
Dublin, Jan. 25th, 1796.