[68]
Ye bells, thy silver tongues
These tidings sweetly tell,
And from the wind-harp's throbbing strings
Doth joy's glad anthem swell.
It is clear that
Mrs. Libby had a feeling for metrical language, and also, in her best work, a measure of that essential impulse which makes poetry what it is.
A still more recent loss is that of
Mrs. Lowe, who died May 9, 1902.
Mrs. Martha Perry Lowe for many years was known as one of the most public-spirited women in this city, active in all good wcrk.
Her literary productions include a ‘Memoir’ of her husband,
Rev. Charles Lowe, who from 1859 to 1865 was pastor of the First Unitarian church here, and afterward
Secretary of the American Unitarian Society.
It is said that, in the midst of her numerous deeds of practical beneficence,
Mrs. Lowe yet cherished the name of poet above all others.
She has left four volumes of verse, and one longer poem unpublished.
It is safe to say that, of the published books, ‘The Olive and the
Pine’ and ‘The Immortals’ contain the poems by which
Mrs. Lowe will be remembered.
The former includes verses that are the outcome of travels in
Spain, when her brother was secretary of the
American Legation at
Madrid.
It also includes poems of
New England.
Among the former is a vivid description of a Spanish bull-fight, closing with this address to the reigning princess:—
Go, fair Infanta, dream
Of bloody death to-day!
Thy little children seem
To see it when they pray.
And, lo!
the nations far
Do point, with warning hand,
To yonder stains that are
Upon thy native land!
The glimpses of picturesque
Spain were not more lovely to the writer's young eyes than the homely beauties of
New England,
