ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION
Willis Gaylord Clark
, "Mrs. Hemans" 1835; Literary Remains of Willis Gaylord Clark (1844) 61-62.
1809: Anna Laetitia Barbauld
1820: Lord Byron
1820: John Taylor Coleridge
1821: Bp. Reginald Heber
1821: Bernard Barton
1822: James Harley
1825 ca.: John Wilson
1826: J. R. P.
1827: George Bancroft
1827: C. W.
1828 ca.: Thomas Campbell
1828: John Wilson
1828: William Cullen Bryant
1829: Sir Walter Scott
1829: Thomas Campbell
1829: Anne Grant
1829: Sarah Josepha Hale
1829: Charles W. Thomson
1829: Elizabeth Margaret Chandler
1829: Francis Jeffrey
1830: George Barrell Cheever
1830: Rev. George Barrell Cheever
1830: S. B. C.
1832: Thomas Enort Smith
1833: Thomas Medwin
1833: Allan Cunningham
1835: Sara Coleridge
1835: John Wilson
1835: Willis Gaylord Clark
1836: Mary Russell Mitford
1836: Henry Fothergill Chorley
1836: Rose Lawrence
1843: William Wordsworth
1846: John Dix
1848: Rufus W. Griswold
1850: George Gilfillan
1851: Dr. David Macbeth Moir
1853: Frederic Rowton
1855: Sarah Josepha Hale
1858: Cyrus Redding
1871: S. C. Hall
1880: A. Mary F. Robinson
1882: Margaret Oliphant
1882: Epes Sargent
Willis Gaylord Clark:
1829: John G. C. Brainard
1831: Lord Byron
1835: Felicia Hemans
1839: Dr. James McHenry
We weep not, when the yellow leaves are gathered,
While Autumn's peace and plenteousness abound;
When from the tinted boughs, like rainbows withered,
The golden fruit drops richly to the ground;
When solemn Nature round her sadness throws
A mellow glory and a warm repose.
We weep not then, amid the fruitage falling,
Whose affluent incense rises to the sky;
Though then we hear soft spirit-voices calling,
That tell how loved and cherished things must die;
For to the fairest blooms a change must come,
That the ripe treasures may be garnered home.
'Twas thus with thee, Beloved! their holy mission
Thy heart and soaring lays at last fulfilled;
Then rolled the cloud beyond the spirit's vision,
Till all the music of thy lyre was stilled;
And like a melting wave, or waning sun,
Passed from this vale of ill the Gifted One!
'Tis well, divinest Soul, with thee! for Heaven
Had filled thine inmost thoughts with sacred dreams;
And to thy reverie and song was given
A world of radiant and immortal gleams;
Yea, gorgeous pictures of a better land
Did ever to thy view their scene expand.
Now, all their fadeless pomp and glow perceiving,
Thou breathest freely, in celestial air
Thy tender heart hath ceased its weary grieving,
And the pure mind is bathed in rapture there;
While, mid fair ways no earthly foot hath trod,
In white thou walkest, present with thy GOD!
Thou hearest melody, whose flowing numbers
Once came but faintly to thy mortal ear,
When ills of time were lost in evening slumbers,
And magic Fancy brought her Eden near;
Thou hast thy yearning hopes' fruition now—
The wreath of Paradise surrounds thy brow!
Thou hearest harps delicious, sweetly ringing,
And sister Spirits fan thee with their wings;
With them thou minglest, and with them art singing,
Where, named of Life, the crystal river springs;
Where, like some changing prism, expand the skies,
And purple hills from vernal vales arise.
Thou art in glory, oh rejoicing Spirit!
Thou look'st on flowers that no pale frost may stain;
And from a changeless Friend thou dost inherit
A lyre triumphant, breathing not of pain;
Thou hast thy Home at last, from sorrow free,
And all is blessedness and peace with thee!