“This indefinable feeling of languor and depression produced by the influence of spring, will be well understood by many a gentle heart. Never do the
‘Fond strange yearnings from the soul’s deep cell
Gush for the faces we no more shall see,’
with such uncontrollable power, as when all external nature breathes of life and gladness. Amidst all the bright and joyous things around us, we are haunted with images of death and the grave. The force of contrast, not less strong than that of analogy, is unceasingly reminding us of the great gulf that divides us from those who are now ‘gone down in silence.’ Some unforgotten voice is ever whispering—‘And I too in Arcadia!’ We remember how we were wont to rejoice in the soft air and pleasant sunshine; and these things can charm us no longer, ‘because they are not.’ The farewell sadness of autumn, on the contrary—its falling leaves, and universal imagery of decay, by bringing more home to us the sense of our own mortality, identifies us more closely with those who are gone before, and the veil of separation becomes, as it were, more transparent. We are impressed with a more pervading conviction that ‘we shall go to them;’ while, in spring, every thing seems mournfully to echo, ‘they will not return to us!’
“These peculiar associations may be traced in many of Mrs Hemans’ writings, deepening with the influence of years and of sorrows, and more particularly developed in the poem called ‘Breathings of Spring.’ And when it is remembered that it was at this season her own earthly course was finished, the following passage from a letter, written in the month of May, some years after the one last quoted, cannot be read without emotion:—‘Poor A. H. is to be buried to-morrow. With the bright sunshine laughing around, it seems more sad to think of; yet, if I could choose when I would wish to die, it should be in spring—the influence of that season is so strangely depressing to my heart and frame.’”—Memoir, p. 66-68.
“‘The Voice of Spring,’ one of the first of what may be called Mrs Hemans’ fanciful lyrics, which presently became as familiar as the music of some popular composer when brought to our doors by wandering minstrels.”—Chorley’s Memorials, vol. i. p. 113.
“But it is time Mrs Hemans’ poetry were allowed to speak for itself; in making our extracts from it, we have really been as much puzzled as a child gathering flowers in a lovely garden—now attracted by a rose—straightway allured by a lily—now tempted by a stately tulip—and again unsettled by a breathing violet, or ‘well-attired woodbine.’ We do think, however, that the ‘Voice of Spring’ is the pride of Mrs H.’s parterre—the rose of her poetry.”—(A. A. Watts.)—Literary Magnet, 1826.]
ELYSIUM.
[“In the Elysium of the ancients, we find none but heroes and persons who had either been fortunate or distinguished on earth; the children, and apparently the slaves and lower classes—that is to say, Poverty, Misfortune, and Innocence—were banished to the infernal Regions.”—Chateaubriand, Génie du Christianisme.]
Fair wert thou in the dreams