ALBERT G. GREENE. [Born, 1802.] MR. GREENE was born in Providence, Rhode Island, on the tenth day of February, 1802. He was educated at Brown University, in that city, at which he was graduated in 1820. He was soon after admitted to the bar, and followed his profession until 1834, when he was elected to an office under the city government, in which he has since remained. One of his earliest metrical compositions was the familiar piece entitled “Old Grimes," which was written in the year in which he entered the university. His poems, except one delivered before a literary society, at Providence, were written for periodicals, and have never been published in a collected form. THE BARON'S LAST BANQUET. O'ER a low couch the setting sun Whose fame had ne'er been bent Its iron strength had spent. "They come around me here, and say Their own liege lord and master born,- "And what is death? I've dared him oft "Ho! sound the tocsin from my tower,- Bid each retainer arm with speed,— Up with my banner on the wall,- A hundred hands were busy then,— While from the rich, dark tracery Along the vaulted wall, Lights gleam'd on harness, plume, and spear, O'er the proud, old Gothic hall. Fast hurrying through the outer gate, Carved oaken chair of state, With girded falchion, sate. "Fill every beaker up, my men, Pour forth the cheering wine; Are ye all there, my vassals true?— "Ye're there, but yet I see ye not. Draw forth each trusty sword,— And let me hear your faithful steel Clash once around my board: I hear it faintly:-Louder yet!What clogs my heavy breath? Up all, and shout for RUDIGER, 'Defiance unto Death!" Bowl rang to bowl,-steel clang'd to steel, But I defy him :-let him come!" And, with the black and heavy plumes And deem'd the stately piles, whose forms That gather'd round the brow of Time. Thou desolate and dying year! Earth's brightest pleasures fade like thine; Like evening shadows disappear, And leave the spirit to repine. Its fresh and sparkling waters on, Which destiny hath overspread; Enroll'd upon that trackless flight Where the death-wing of time hath sped! O! thus hath life its even-tide Of sorrow, loneliness, and grief; TO THE AUTUMN LEAF. THOU faded leaf! it seems to be But as of yesterday, When thou didst flourish on the tree On field, on flower, and spray; It promised fair; how changed the scene Then the young, fervent heart beats high, With bright, unceasing play; Is beauty in her morning pride, And hope illumes its placid tide: When hope and bliss have died! And valour's laurel wreath must fade; Must lose the freshness, and the bloom On which the beam of glory play'd; The banner waving o'er the crowd, And warning tone in thy decay; Like thee must man to death return With his frail tenement of clay: Life, rapture, hope, ye are as brief THE LAST SONG. STRIKE the wild harp yet once again! Be hush'd in death for evermore. Creative fancy, be thou still; And let oblivious Lethe pour Upon my lyre its waters chill. Strike the wild harp yet once again! Then be its fitful chords unstrung, Silent as is the grave's domain, And mute as the death-moulder'd tongue; Let not a thought of memory dwell One moment on its former song; Forgotten, too, be this farewell, Which plays its pensive strings along! The saddest and the latest lay; And they shall sound no more for aye: The hours of youth and song have pass'd, Have gone, with all their witchery; Lost lyre! these numbers are thy last. JOY AND SORROW. Joy kneels, at morning's rosy prime, She wanders forth to muse and weep. Joy loves to cull the summer-flower, Hath laid the leaf and blossoms low; When the frail bud hath lost its worth, And Joy hath dash'd it from his crest, Then Sorrow takes it from the earth, To wither on her wither'd breast. ALBERT G. GREENE. [Born, 1802.] MR. GREENE was born in Providence, Rhode Island, on the tenth day of February, 1802. He was educated at Brown University, in that city, at which he was graduated in 1820. He was soon after admitted to the bar, and followed his profession until 1834, when he was elected to an office under the city government, in which he has since remained. One of his earliest metrical compositions was the familiar piece entitled "Old Grimes,” which was written in the year in which he entered the university. His poems, except one delivered before a literary society, at Providence, were written for periodicals, and have never been published in a collected form. THE BARON'S LAST BANQUET. O'ER a low couch the setting sun Whose fame had ne'er been bent Its iron strength had spent. "They come around me here, and say Their own liege lord and master born,- "And what is death? I've dared him oft "Ho! sound the tocsin from my tower,- Bid each retainer arm with speed,— Up with my banner on the wall,- Along the vaulted wall, Lights gleam'd on harness, plume, and spear, O'er the proud, old Gothic hall. TO THE WEATHERCOCK ON OUR STEEPLE. THE dawn has broke, the morn is up, Another day begun; And there thy poised and gilded spear Upon that steep and lofty tower Where thou thy watch hast kept, A true and faithful sentinel, While all around thee slept. For years, upon thee, there has pour'd And through the long, dark, starless night, By day and night the same, Still thou hast met and faced the storm, No chilling blast in wrath has swept But thou hast watch'd its onward course, Thou dost foretell each breeze that comes How oft I've seen, at early dawn, Or twilight's quiet hour, Come darting round thy tower, And when, around thee or above, Thou seem'st to watch the circling flight Till, after twittering round thy head Have settled on thy back. Then, if, perchance, amidst their mirth, Men slander thee, my honest friend, They have no right to make thy name But when thou changest sides, canst give Thou, like some lofty soul, whose course Which they do never know, Who, round their earth-bound circles, plod Through one more dark and cheerless night Bright symbol of fidelity, Still may I think of thee: And may the lesson thou dost teach May I be faithful to my trust, STANZAS. O, THINK not that the bosom's light To feel its warmth and share its glow. To those who gather near the shrine. Do the dull flint, the rigid steel, Which thou within thy hand mayst hold, Unto thy sight or touch reveal The hidden power which they enfold? But take those cold, unyielding things, And beat their edges till you tire,And every atom forth that springs, Is a bright spark of living fire: Until the blow that woke it came, Such truths from sense lie still conceal'd, WILLIAM LEGGETT. [Born, 1802. Died, 1840.] THIS distinguished political and miscellaneous writer was born in the city of New York, in the summer of 1802, and was educated at the Georgetown College, in the District of Columbia. In 1822 he entered the navy of the United States as a midshipman; but in consequence of the arbitrary conduct of his commander, Captain JOHN ORDE CREIGHTON, he retired from the service in 1826, after which time he devoted himself mainly to literary pursuits. His first publication was entitled "Leisure Hours at Sea," and was composed of various short poems written while he was in the navy. In 1828 he established, in New York, "The Critic," a weekly literary gazette, which he conducted with much ability for seven or eight months, at the end of which time it was united with the "Mirror," to which he became a regular contributor. In "The Critic" and "The Mirror," he first published "The Rifle," "The Main Truck, or the Leap for Life," "White Hands, or Not Quite in Character," and other stories, afterward embraced in the volumes entitled "Tales by a Country Schoolmaster," and "Sketches of the Sea." These tales and sketches are probably the most spirited and ingenious productions of their kind ever written in this country. In 1829 Mr. LEGGETT became associated with Mr. BRYANT, in the editorship of the "Evening Post," and on the departure of that gentleman for Europe, in 1834, the entire direction of that able journal was devolved to him. A severe illness, which commenced near the close of the succeeding year, induced him to relinquish his connexion with the "Post;" and on his recovery, in 1836, he commenced "The Plaindealer," a weekly periodical devoted to politics and literature, for which he obtained great reputation by his independent and fearless assertion of doctrines, and the vigorous eloquence and powerful reasoning by which he maintained them. It was discontinued, in consequence of the failure of his publisher, before the close of the year; and his health, after that period, prevented his connexion with any other journal. In 1828 he had been married to Miss ELMIRA WARING, daughter of Mr. JONA. WARING, of New Rochelle; and to that pleasant village he now retired, with his family. He occasionally visited his friends in the city, and a large portion of the democratic party there proposed to nominate him for a seat in Congress; but as he had acted independently of a majority of the party in regard to certain important political questions, his formal nomination was prevented. In April, 1840, he was appointed by Mr. VAN BUREN, then President of the United States, a diplomatic agent* from our * Soon after the death of Mr. LEGGETT, Mr. JOHN L. STEPHENS, whose "Travels in Central America" have been since published, was appointed his successor as diplomatic agent to that country. government to the Republic of Guatemala. He was preparing to depart for that country, when he suddenly expired, on the twenty-ninth day of following month, in the thirty-eighth year of his age. A few months after his death, a collection of his political writings, in two large duodecimo volumes, was published, under the direction of his friend, Mr. THEODORE SEDGWICK. Besides the works already mentioned, he wrote much in various periodicals, and was one of the authors of "The Tales of Glauber Spa," published in 1832. In the maturity of his powers, his time and energies were devoted to political writing. His poems are the poorest of his productions, and were written while he was in the naval service, or during his editorship of "The Critic." In addition to his Melodieswhich are generally ingenious and well versifiedhe wrote one or two prize addresses for the theatres, and some other pieces, which have considerable merit. His death was deeply and generally deplored, especially by the members of the democratic party, who regarded him as one of the ablest champions of their principles. Mr. BRYANT, with whom he was for several years intimately associated, published in the Democratic Review" the following tribute to his character : "The earth may ring from shore to shore, Upon that warm and mighty heart, "The words of fire that from his pen Were flung upon the lucid page, "His love of Truth, too warm-too strong Burn in the breasts he kindled still." Mr. SEDGWICK, in the preface to his political writings, remarks that "every year was softening his prejudices, and calming his passions; enlarging his charities, and widening the bounds of his liberality. Had a more genial clime invigorated his constitution, and enabled him to return to his labours, a brilliant and honourable future might have been predicted of him. It is not the suggestion of a too fond affection, but the voice of a calm judgment, which declares that, whatever public career he had pursued, he must have raised to his memory an imperishable monument, and that as no name is now dearer to his friends, so few could have been more honourably associated with the history of his country, than that of WILLIAM LEGGETT." |