From the same spot; and he, that richly hearsed, And round by the proud heir, who blushed to think The family tomb, to whose devouring mouth Communion with the earth, the miser drew His carcase forth, and gnashed his teeth, and howled, And gave their portion forth of human dust,- Tree, herb, and flower, and every fowl of heaven, Athens, and Rome, and Babylon, and Tyre, And she that sat on Thames, queen of the seas,Cities once famed on earth, convulsed through all Their mighty ruins, threw their millions forth. Palmyra's dead, where desolation sat To man, and with him from the grave, redeemed, To burn eternal shame. The cities, too, Or deeply slumbering under mountains huge, That earthquake-servant of the wrath of GodHad on their wicked population thrown; And marts of busy trade, long ploughed and sown, Of bard-yet not forgotten their wickedness To plead against them at the coming doom. Their thralls-untaught, that he who made or kept Their vitals touched, and made each pulse stand still, Of Gog, and all the fated crew that warred And, from the treasures of his snow and hail, Nor yet did all that fell in battle rise, The frantic fury of the multitude, Rebelled, and fought and fell for liberty Right understood, true heroes in the speech Of heaven, where words express the thoughts of him Who speaks; not undistinguished these, though few, That morn arose with joy and melody. † N 2 THOMAS HOOD was born in the Poultry, London, on the 23rd May, 1799. His father was a native of Scotland, and for many years acting partner in the firm of Vernor, Hood, and Sharp, extensive booksellers and publishers. Thomas Hood was, in his childhood, remarkable for great vivacity of spirits; and at a very early age gave tokens of the genius for which he was afterwards distinguished. When a boy, our informant states, "he was continually making shrewd and pointed remarks upon topics of which he was presumed to know nothing." He finished his education at Mr. Wanostrocht's academy, Camberwell; and on leaving school, his health being precarious, he was recommended to try the effect of a sea voyage on his constitution. The sea, however. appears to have had no attractions for the future Poet: in one of the pleasantest of his poems he sums up all the annoyances to which those who are "far from the land" are invariably subjected : "All the sea dangers, Buccaneers, rangers, Mr. Hood subsequently resided for a considerable period with his relatives in Dundee ; and on his return to London, having manifested a taste for drawing, and expressed a desire to pursue the art of engraving, he was articled to his uncle, Mr. Robert Sands, with a view to acquire a knowledge of the profession. He passed two years sketching with the pencil, now and then taking up the graver, but chiefly composing poetry: his compositions found their way into the "London Magazine," and at once attracted attention. A path to fame was speedily marked out for him; and he has taken his station as one of the most original and agreeable writers of the day. The countenance of Mr. Hood was more solemn than merry: there was nothing in his appearance to indicate that wit and humour for which he became eminent. He was by no means brilliant in conversation; but seemed as if continually taking in the matter which he gave out sparingly in general society. We believe, indeed, that his mind was serious rather than comic; that the poems which have made so many readers laugh, are the produce of deep thought and study, and by no means the outbreaks of natural humour. We think we perceive this even in his merriest strains: few of them are without a touch of melancholy; and the topics he selects as fittest for him, are usually of a grave and sombre cast. We have never known him laugh heartily, either in company or in rhyme. It is highly to his credit, that with so much power in dealing with the burlesque, he has never indulged in personal satire: we look in vain through his books for a single passage that can give pain to any living person; neither does he ever verge upon indelicacy, or treat with lightness or indifference sacred subjects. Perhaps it is impossible to find a greater contrast than that which is presented by the writings of Thomas Hood and Peter Pindar. The one cannot be facetious without exhibiting venom;-the other, in his most playful moments, was never either ill-tempered or envious. Indeed kindliness, benevolence, and generosity, were the characteristics even of Mr. Hood's "satirical" productions. It is, however, less to the humorous than to the serious compositions of Thomas Hood that we desire to direct the reader's attention. His name is so completely linked with "joking," that few are at all aware of his exquisite talent for pure and genuine poetry. While his "Whims and Oddities" have passed through many editions, his " Plea of the Midsummer Fairies" has never reached a second; and while his "Comic Annuals" recompensed him largely, his delicious Lyrics scarcely yielded sufficient to pay the printer. We refer to the few extracts we have selected, for proof that Mr. Hood has claims to a far higher and more enviable reputation than that which his "puns" have conferred upon him. More tender, more graceful, or more beautifully wrought lyrics, are scarcely to be found in the language. They "smack of the old Poets; they have all the truth and nature for which the great Bards are pre-eminent; and while Mr. Hood has caught their spirit, he has not fallen into the error that has proved fatal to many of his contemporaries,-a notion, that by copying the blots which occasionally mar the delicate beauty of their writings, he was imitating their style and character. He died in London on the 3rd May, 1845. LADY, wouldst thou heiress be Thou dost still lock up thy heart: Scorn and cold neglect are made For winter gloom and winter wind; |