SABBATH SONNET.

COMPOSED BY MRS. HEMANS A FEW DAYS BEFORE HER DEATH, AND DEDICATED TO HER BROTHER.

How many blessed groups this hour are bending, Through England's primrose meadow-paths, their way Towards spire and tower, 'midst shadowy elms ascending,

Whence the sweet chimes proclaim the hallow'd day!

The halls from old heroic ages grey

Pour their fair children forth; and hamlets low,
With whose thick orchard-blooms the soft winds play,
Send out their inmates in a happy flow,
Like a freed vernal stream. I may not tread
With them those pathways,-to the feverish bed
Of sickness bound;-yet, oh, my God! I bless
Thy mercy, that with Sabbath peace hath fill'd
My chasten'd heart, and all its throbbings still'd
To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness.

April 26th, 1835.

SELECTIONS

FROM

JUVENILE POEMS.

(297)

SELECTIONS

FROM

JUVENILE POEMS.

[IN this collected edition of the various writings of Mrs. Hemans, chronological arrangement has been adhered to, in so far as any useful purpose could be attained by it; and, when departed from, it has only been to a small extent, and that for the purpose of giving to each volume a greater degree of variety.

In a very general point of view, the intellectual career of Mrs. Hemans may be divided, as we have already hinted, into two separate eras,-the first of which may be termed the classical, and comprehends the productions of her pen, from "the Restoration of the Works of Art to Italy" and "Modern Greece," down to the "Historic Scenes" and the "Translations from Camoens," - and the last the romantic, which commences with the "Forest Sanctuary," and includes "Records of Woman," together with nearly all her later efforts.

In point of poetical merit, there can be little doubt that the last section far transcends the first, and forms the groundwork-whether we regard conception or