Wednesday, September 02, 2009

British Women Romantic Poets


Do you have an interest? UC-Davis has your back.

From their website...

The British Women Romantic Poet's Project is producing an online scholarly archive consisting of E-text editions of poetry by British and Irish women written (not necessarily published) between 1789 (the onset of the French Revolution) and 1832 (the passage of the Reform Act), a period traditionally known in English literary history as the Romantic period.

And here's a poem by Margaret Chalmers...

ON THE
EXPECTED RETURN
OF
LORD COLLINGWOOD
TO ENGLAND .

WHILE every muse impatient waits
To meet the hero on the strand,
And welcome Collingwood's return,
Triumphant! to his native land,

Will he forgive a Thulian maid
Her rude attempt, untaught to sing,
Who never trod Aonian mount,
Nor ever sipp'd Pierian spring.

Stern Neptune, give thy sea-nymphs charge
The stormy billows close to keep;
And guide thy gallant, favour'd son,
In safety o'er the dangerous deep.

Ye gentle gales, auspicious blow,
And waft the hero o'er the sea;
And, lo! he comes in happy time
To join our British Jubilee.

On Trafalgar's victorious day,
When warring navies shook the sea;
Humanely brave, thy valour shone,
Th' eventful hour devolv'd on thee.

Great Nelson's shade, yet lingering near,
Delay'd his bliss; well pleas'd to see
Thy gallant arm assume the charge,
And Britain's hope revive in thee.

Nor only in the dreadful scene
Of war's fell thunder, dost thou shine;
The gentler feelings of the heart,
The social virtues too are thine.

'Tis thine to trace the claim of worth,
Thine modest merit to descry;
'Tis thine to feel for those who mourn,
And wipe the tear from sorrow's eye.

With earnest suppliance let us bend,
Before Hygeia's crowded shrine;
And sue, that in the hero's wreath
Of laurel, she her rose would twine.

For, ah! long tost on foreign seas,
The glow of health begins to fade;
May native climate, scenes, and joys
Combine, its wish'd return to aid.

With throbbing heart and bounding step,
Thy gentle consort climbs the height;
Entranc'd the blissful moment flies
Which gives thy vessel to her sight.

Now Britons hasten to the shore,
With joyful shouts the hero greet;
Let martial strains salute his ear,
And lay the laurel at his feet.

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