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ANOTHER Album! and another!
“ Pray write,” says one,—"pray write !"/another!
Time was, when woman dared not speak,
No more than I should dare talk Greek,
Of things, the charter'd right of men,
From father Adam down to Penn;
To keep her house and reign her will,
The utmost effort of her skill;
Blest in her ignorance, she sought the while,
No boon beyond her husband's smile;
Or, if no husband's rule she knew,
But joy'd in youth and freedom too,
Still she must wear the female fetters,
Nor step into the world of letters.
A novel she might read perchance
And smile, and sing, and dress and dance,
While intellect, of man the pride,
To simple woman was denied !
But fashion takes a wondrous range,
For people's minds are apt to change.
Not, but that ladies sometimes dream'd,
They were not really what they seemed;
Mere petsma master's eye to please,
Or drudges to promote his ease.
Now, men are wiser grown—they see,
That woman too, may taste the Tree
Whose fruits have broken slavery's chain
And set the world to rights again;
That she may read, and write, like man,
And every form of being scan.
Now theory gives place to fact,
And women think, and speak, and act;
Now science shows them all her store,
Sacred, to lordly man, no more!
They throng in crowds the Muses' Hall,
And Clio bids them welcome all!
Then ladies come, put forth your lays, Wreath your proud temples with the bays, And let the ALBUM sound your praise.
INTRODUCTION TO AN ALBUM.
As Valeria sat reading—'twas sometime last age,
With intense application, some beautiful page,
In rapt thought she exclaim'd—“Wondrous art of the pen,
How great-how transcendent—thy blessings to men!
“By thee is possessed the proud pow'r sought of old; It is thine to transform what thou touchest, to gold; By thy magical lines, on this paper appears, 'Midst the charms of creation—the experience of years.
“But to me, what avails erudition's deep store,
The high flight of Genius, his light, or his lore;
To the mind's ardent eye in full blaze they appear,
But memory refuses the impress to wear!"
While thus the maid mus'd—a bright form seem'd to glide
From a sun-tinted cloud, and descend to her side;
Light and beauty celestial, her lineage bespeak,
Genius radiates her eye—and wit plays on her cheek.
'Twas INVENTION—the mother of arts and of arms; Youth and age, in her shape, had commingled their
charms: From the folds of her garment an ALBUM she took, And gracefully gave to Valeria the book.
“Be it mine," said the Sylph, “ to remove all this grief;
This Album will minister certain relief,
Let the lesson well tried thy attention engage,
And wisdom and virtue still live in this page."
SUGGESTED IN A SUMMER EVENING.
'Tis early eve—the sun's last trembling glance,
Still hovers o'er and gilds the western wild,
And slowly leaves the haunts of solitude.
Venus, bright mistress of the musing hour,
Above the horizon lifts her beck’ning torch;
Stars, in their order, follow one by one
The graceful movement of their brilliant queen,
Obedient to the hand that fix'd them all,
And said to each-Be this thy place.
Refreshing airs revive man's sinking strength,
And hallowed thoughts come rushing to the heart!
Now from her eastern clime the golden Moon,
Set in a frame of azure, lifts her shield,
And all creation wakes to life renewed!
Not long she holds supreme her joyous course;
Her foes in sullen vapours fitful rise,
And envious, hovering over her splendid path,
Now thin—now dense, impede her kindly ray.
In hasty, partial gleams, of light and shade,
She holds her purposed way.—Now darker clouds
Collect, combine, advance—she falls—'twould seem
To rise no more sudden they break—they pass,
Once more she shines—bright sovereign of the skies !