New-York daily tribune., 1845-04-18
THE TRIBUNE.

POEMS: Br AMELIA Boston. A. Tompkini New
York, Saxton e. Miles
The Poems embodied in the fifty elegant volume
before us are the sweetest not the highest, order
They kindie and refine our affections ; they seek
not 10 SWAY the intellect thrill the SOUL save with
gadness and sense of unstudied beauty. They
do not require analyssthelr burthen is pal pabe 10
the least discerning reader. A joyous, loving na-
ture-a girls, and now woman's-utters itself
through all, even when the theme il sad and the
song pathetic. A severe critic would mark some
thing Of sameness in these Pocns-rarely unre-
rnarkable IN collection of fugitive verses by one
hand-faully rhymes and an occasional platitude
might be pointed out-but to what end The
Poems are in the main good some OF them lInger
pleasantly in the memory; they are ar,less, and
melodous the simples, can appreciate them; they
delight, expand and ctlas,en: what would we have
more? II Mrs. Welby i, not poisoned by fattery,
and her ps.udo-admrers will only refrain from sy-
ing her the American Hemans,' the modern Sap
pho, and other absurd titles, by which the public
Is nauseGted and many goodly promise blighted,
she vii! yet write loier strains than these, and win
On enduring place in our National Literature that
is TO be. Mark these lines for example:
"For every wave, with dmpled face,
That lcapcd upon the air.
Had eaughid Jar in its embrace,
HdheId hrsmbiiHg here"
What is that but Poetry?
We copy some of her warblngs, excluding
others of perhaps greater merit because they have
already graced our columns:
THE LITTLE STEP-SoN.
I have 4 little s,epson, the loveliesi thing alive;
noble sturdy boy is he and yet he 3 only I'VE; las Jet
His smooth cheek hath blooming glow eyes are black
And h. lips like buds, all remnlous and wet
His days pass of In sunshine in laughter, and In song,
As careless summer rit, that sings Itself along;
For IKE pretty fairy tale, that's all too quickly told.
Is the young little one, that's only Ave year, old.
He's dreaming his happy couch before the day
dark,
He up with mornings ray a-sngng with the lark;
Whcreer the flowers freshest whereer the grass s
green,
with sht look. waving on the wind his fairy
Amid the wlstlns March winds, amid the April showers
He warbes with the sisgng bfds and blossoms with the
flowers
He cares for the ea; for the cold
Ply sturdy i;tlc step-son, that only nve years old
How tOncng to see him clasp little hands in prayer
Aud raise Ills little rosy face with rcverential air!
How simple is his ect ucnce how soft his accents fall
when pleading with the King OF kings TO love and bless us
nll 10y,
And when from prayer he bounds away Innocence and
The blessing of n smiling goes the sinless boy
little amtkin of the flock, within the Saviours fold,
Is he, lovely stcp-son, that only ave years old
have not you home, that the summer hours
Stands its simple modcsty half hid among the flowers;
have not said single word about mines Of wealth
Our this little boy, contsntment peace and
health;
For even ordy hall to weuld be vo!ceess place.
Without gush OF his glad voice. tho CLEANS OF his bright
face. land gold
And many courty pair. would give their gems
noble happy boy like ours some four or nve Old