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The Poetical Works of Miss Susanna Blamire (1842) - Gredos ...

The Poetical Works of Miss Susanna Blamire (1842) - Gredos ...

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<strong>The</strong> Salamanca Corpus: <strong>The</strong> <strong>Poetical</strong> <strong>Works</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Miss</strong> <strong>Susanna</strong> <strong>Blamire</strong> (<strong>1842</strong>)<br />

found in her writings, we gather that her constitution was never robust; but her good sense<br />

would not allow her to complain and injure the feelings <strong>of</strong> her friends; she was always<br />

patient—always thankful for all their attention and care. Under that easy gayety with which<br />

she at all times mingled in society, was concealed a thoughtful mind, which glanced with<br />

no superficial gaze at whatever was going on around her. Drs Harrington and <strong>Blamire</strong> <strong>of</strong><br />

Carlisle attended her in her last illness with the most affectionate solicitude. As her last<br />

hour drew nigh, she desired her friend Mrs Pearson, who was with her, to pray, for she felt<br />

a conviction she had not long to live; she complied with her request, and <strong>Susanna</strong> thanked<br />

her, adding she was happy, and felt that peace <strong>of</strong> God which passeth all understanding, only<br />

known in the Christian’s faith. She then tasted a little wine, laid her head on the pillow, and<br />

expired within half an hour without a groan. <strong>Miss</strong> <strong>Blamire</strong> died in Carlisle at about four<br />

o’clock in the afternoon <strong>of</strong> Saturday, 5th April, 1794, in the forty-seventh year <strong>of</strong> her age;<br />

and was buried on the Wednesday following at Raughton-Head. <strong>The</strong> manner in which her<br />

memory was held is well exemplified by the fact, that between eighty and ninety people<br />

attended the funeral, the distance being seven miles, and that without any invitation. So<br />

poignant was the grief <strong>of</strong> Mrs<br />

[xxxvi]<br />

Graham, that she never afterwards could approach her sister s grave.<br />

<strong>Miss</strong> <strong>Blamire</strong>’s character may be gathered from her writings; her heart flowed with<br />

her pen; and the kindly expressions <strong>of</strong> her well-regulated mind and keen feelings are all<br />

undisguisedly exhibited to us as to a friend. She wrote not for the public, but because it<br />

gave her pleasure to embody her thoughts in verse; had it been otherwise, it is difficult to<br />

understand how one so talented could not but have found a ready publisher. If I am correct<br />

in supposing that her longest poem “Stoklewath” was composed in 1771 , when about<br />

twenty-four years <strong>of</strong> age, at which time her sister Sarah was the wife <strong>of</strong> Colonel Graham,<br />

we find her young affections strongly breaking forth in the mention <strong>of</strong> her sister and her<br />

brother in the last paragraph but one <strong>of</strong> that poem, and giving a playful glance at her own<br />

character. Her love for her relations is again finely displayed in her poem <strong>of</strong> “<strong>The</strong> Invitation<br />

to two Sisters.” <strong>The</strong>re is a pun here introduced—seldom, and properly, attempted in serious<br />

poetry—yet so simply and kindly, that I cannot help taking notice <strong>of</strong> it. She has been<br />

describing the beauties <strong>of</strong> the landscape she invited them to witness, in all its gorgeousness<br />

<strong>of</strong> summer and autumnal clothing; yet, when the winter comes, if she have her friends<br />

around her, these would “yield a pro-<br />

[xxxvii]<br />

spect more charming than May.” But without these friends, with all the advantages <strong>of</strong> “the<br />

wood-hanging bank, and the cottage so still,” her regrets for the want <strong>of</strong> their conversation<br />

would always be renewed<br />

“As she listen’d and heard the s<strong>of</strong>t dock <strong>of</strong> the mill.”<br />

In the last paragraph <strong>of</strong> her “Address to Health,” she again exultingly breaks forth in

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