The southern press. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1850-1852, 1850-07-13

We shall give the proceedings at length, IN
LITERARY NOTICES. teE
Poems By ANNE C. LYNCH, Nth Illustrations by
DURAND, and others. Et ~,
A friend has handed US volume Of the Poems
of Miss ANNE c. LYNCH, lady whose poetic
powers are well known to the American public,
and whose personal presence in this city, during
the present sessions has only confirmed the impress
sion her writings had previously produced. As
general thing, we are not particularly partial to
the ramblings Of our lady-poets along the rugged
sides of Parnassus but there are favored few
who have conIrived to cull some sweet wild flowers
of ipoesy in such rambles, and among, these adj
yenturous pilgrims Miss LYNCH is certainly en-
titled TO high place. The volume before us is a
collection chiefly of fugitive pieces, apparently
written in various moods Of mind-many of which
are embued with the subtle spirit and the pa
thos Of true poetry, Running through the whole
string of pearls, like silver thread, is percepti
bic vain of sentiment, and that .feminity of
feeling, which give much Of sohness and Of
sweetness to thepoesy Of Mrs. HEmANs. Thought
fal, reflective, dwelling more on the shadow than
the sunlight and drawing constant analogies
from the physical to the moral world, this young
poetess reminds us constantly of her gifted Eng
lish sister, with whom, we trust, she may hereaf,
ter become, (when the blossoms of her genius
have ripened into fruition,) 'kindred inrenown, y
thoughnot in fate Neither our space nor our
leisure will allow us to give anything like an
extended criticism of these poems, three Of which
we subjoin as specimens Of varying moods OF
mind--premising that the volume contains many
more of equal, if not Of superior merit: Ia s@s,7
u GFt - The Battle Of Life. 2.@i''t .l":3
There are countless fields the green earth DER,
Where the .verdant turf has been dyed with gore
Where hostile ranks in their grim array, gria
With the battles smoke have obscured the day )
Where hate was stamped on each rigid face 81 u.
As foe met foe In the death embrace st ..yFy
Where the groans of the wounded and dying rose,
Till the heart Of the listener with horror froze,
And the wide expanse of the crimsoned plain
Was piled with its heaps Of uncounted slain -
But a,fercer combat, a deadlier Strife, @ .1ei.5t@
Is thalwhich is waged in the Battle Of Life aigts
The hero that wars on the tented field, ~, 49,.
| With his shining sword and his FURNISHED shield
Goes not aloEe with his faithful brand,
Friends and comrades around him stand
The humpets sound and the war-steeds neigh,
Te join in the shock of the coming fray, ay&F
And he flies to the onset, he charges the foe, F
Where the bayonets gleam and the red tides flow.
And he. bears his part in that conflict dire, ~ r=a
With an arm all nerve, and heart all fire. ~ es
What though he fall at the battles close, {-a,,.
In the flush of the victory won, he goes, a;
With martial music and waving plume, '-.''
From a field of fame to laureled tomb. -"
R,,ff her hat IN, he r
Must stand alone in the fearful strife ;!s4al j5h
Alone in his weakness or strength must go, ,2a2
Hero or craven to meet the foe ;,4 95. aE--grsag
He may notfy,-on that fhted field, -ysf .;s 81.
| He must win or lose, he must conquer or yield.
+ Warrior who com st to this battle now, -. ,..
With careless step and thoughtless brow, ''
As if the field were already won ; -. '7"'
Pause, and grid all thy armor on Lat. s. Sf
MyrIads have come TO this Battle-Ground, h8aiaA
With a valiant arm and name renowned, Ja#sf
And have fallen vanquished to rise no more, s'sa9
Ere the sun was set, or the day half Ger. h ssa
= In war with these phantoms that grid him round,
No limbs discovered may strew the ground g.
No blood may flow, and no mortal ear .'aa '.',4
The groans Of the wounded heart may hear, 81 f'
As 1T struggles and writhes in their dread control
Asthe iron enters the riven soul 1885,. H5iIual az
But the youthful form grows wasted and weak
And sunken and wan is the rounded cheek 1sga
The brow is furrowed, but not with years !; 4 Il,
The eye is dimmed with its secret tears, 100 ia
And streaked with white is the raven hair 4 Co.,
These are the tokens of conflict there 40" .. ..'.,
The battle is over; the hero goes, ."7s~3-
Scared and worn, to his last repose. Ail! ii
He has won the day, he has conquered Doom,
He has sunk unknown to his nameless tomb a.
For the yictor's glory no voices plead, ,,sa L Is,
Fame has no echo, and earth no need. peg, +sor.
But the guardian angels are hoyering near - 49,.
They have watched unseen 'er the conflict here,
And they bear him now, on their wings away ~
To a realm of peace,--to acloadless day. ''"a''
Ended now is the earthly strife, hE'Ai. tIt'
And his brow is crowned with the Crown OF Life.