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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 />

Kneel at her shrine and her mild empire own;<br />

<strong>The</strong>n to the heart in different forms are sent,<br />

First seem Submission, and next grow Content,<br />

Advice, Repro<strong>of</strong>, with gentle Pity joined;<br />

All tend to strengthen and restore the mind:<br />

<strong>The</strong> mind restored can see the change <strong>of</strong> things,<br />

In equal fetters bind the throne <strong>of</strong> kings;<br />

All nature find submitted to one law,—<br />

A certain portion <strong>of</strong> portion <strong>of</strong> predestin’d woe<br />

But to give ease to man’s distracted frame,<br />

<strong>The</strong> healing goddess watchful Friendship came;<br />

To feel the sudden downcast <strong>of</strong> an eye,<br />

And long before anticipate a sigh;<br />

To see what would the present calm destroy,<br />

When fond Remembrance paints some long lost joy.<br />

<strong>The</strong> long lost joy, if never to return,<br />

Asks the sad heart to cling: around its urn;<br />

[58]<br />

But listening Friendship hears the low request,<br />

And silent guards the inroad <strong>of</strong> the breast;<br />

By slow degrees draws back the present scene,<br />

Till gayer thoughts come gliding in between,<br />

Till Hope again her flattering tints lets fall,<br />

That lend some comfort, and that promise all.<br />

Such was the cordial that kind heaven bestow’d<br />

When the dire cup with every ill o’erflow’d,<br />

One drop <strong>of</strong> hope clung to the poison’d side,<br />

Or man had bow’d his languid head, and died.<br />

If then we’ve left us by divine command<br />

Those cordial drops to stay the trembling hand,<br />

Shall we ‘gainst heaven essay an impious skill,<br />

If by some other means we cure the ill?<br />

If love <strong>of</strong> praise should tempt us to endure<br />

“With patient calm those ills we cannot cure;—<br />

Should prove the stimulus, and lead the way<br />

To noble actions,—should the Censor say<br />

No merit follows—though great good ensue?<br />

If you are serv’d, sure it is good to you!<br />

And actions guarded by the sense <strong>of</strong> shame,<br />

Will struggle hard to bear an honest name.<br />

For me, I own, that hope <strong>of</strong> praise can charm<br />

This little heart, and all its feelings warm;

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