The Literary Gazette, 7th July 1821
[Being ourselves delighted with the beautiful poem to The Ivy, by Mrs. Hemans, in our No. 231, it is a pleasure to find, that it has made a similar impression on poetical minds. Our last contained a tribute from a bard of the finest sense, and the following congenial lines are from the pen of Mr. B. Barton, whose Muse has raised the Society of Friends among the Children of Song.]-Ed.
TO MRS. HEMANS.
Lady! if I for thee would twine
The Ivy-Wreath,—can feeling trace
No cause why, on a brow like thine,
The Muse might fitly place
Its verdant foliage—"never sere,"
Of glossy, and of changeless hue?
Ah! Yes—there is a cause most dear
To Truth and Nature too.
It is not that it long hath been
Combin'd with thoughts of festal rite;
The cup which thou hast drank, I ween,
Not always sparkles bright!
Nor is it that it hath been twin'd
Round Vict'ry's brow in days gone by;
Such glory has no power to blind
Thy intellectual eye.
For thou canst look beyond the hour,
Elated by the wine-cup's thrall
Beyond the Victor's proudest power,
Unto the end of all!
And, therefore, would I, round thy brow,
The deathless wreath of Ivy place;
For well thy song has prov'd—that thou
Art worthy of its grace.
Had earth, and earth's delight alone—
Unto thy various strains giv'n birth;
Then had I o'er thy temples thrown
The fading flowers of earth:
And trusting that e'en these—pourtray'd
By thee in song, would spotless be,
The Jasmine's, Lily's, Hare-bell's braid,
Should brightly bloom for thee.
