Poems (1828)

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Title: Poems (1828)
Author: Thomas Gent
Release Date: February 21, 2004 [EBook #11215]
Language: English
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POEMS;
BY
THOMAS GENT.
LONDON
1828.
ADVERTISEMENT.
Some of the Pieces in this volume have been separately published, at
different times; the indulgence, I may say favour,
with which they
were individually received, has encouraged me to collect and re-publish
them. I have added many others,
which are now first printed. I shall
be well satisfied, if they find as favourable a reception as their

precursors; and are thought not to have increased the size, without at all
increasing the merit, of the book.
I cannot omit this opportunity of thanking those Critics,
who have
honoured me by reviewing my verses. I owe them
my warm
acknowledgments for candidly measuring my Poems
by their
pretensions. They have looked at them as they really were;--as the
amusements of the leisure hours of a man
whose fortune will not
favour his inclination to devote himself to poetry; and conceiving a
favourable opinion of them in
that character, have kindly expressed it.
London, December, 1827.
During the progress of these pages through the press, it has pleased
Providence to inflict upon me the severest calamity that domestic life
can sustain. In the private sorrows of the humble candidate for literary
fame, I am aware that the world will feel no interest, yet humanity will
forgive the weakness that struggles under such a bereavement, and will
pardon the tear that falls upon such a tomb. If, indeed, the Being who is
lost to her family and society were endowed only with those gifts and
graces,
which are shared by thousands of her sex, I should have been
silent at this moment. To those who knew her,[1] and to know her was
to esteem and love, this tribute will be superfluous; but to those who
knew her not, I would say, that, superadded to every natural advantage,
to the charms of every polite accomplishment, and to a cheerful and
sincere piety, she was deeply
imbued with the love of literature and
of science. In these, her Lectures on the Physiology of the External
Senses exhibit a splendid proof of her acquirements in their highest
walks, and are an imperishable memorial of her patient and laborious
research. They who were present at the delivery of these Lectures
will
not soon forget the effect of her impressive elocution, chastened as it
was by as unaffected modesty as ever adorned and dignified a woman. I
speak of that which she performed--that which her capacious mind had
meditated I forbear to mention. For the advancement of her sex in
pursuits that are intellectual she made many sacrifices, both of her
feelings and her
time; yet, in all she did, and in all she contemplated,

usefulness was her end and aim--but I must not proceed; less than this I
could not say--more than this might be deemed ostentatious.
What earthly tongue, and, oh! what human pen
Can tell that scene of
suffering, too severe.
'Tis ever present to my sight, oh! when
Will
the sound cease its torture on mine ear?
Oh! my lost love, thou patient Being, never!
Thy dying look of love
can I forget;
The last fond pressure of thy hand, for ever!
Thrills in
my veins, I see thy struggles yet.
Thy sculptured beauty is before me now:
In thy calm dignity, and
sweet repose,
Alas! sad memory re-invests thy brow,
With death's
stern agony, and pain's last throes.
Desolate heart be still--forgive, oh God!
The cries of feeble nature
stricken sore.
Father! assuage the terrors of thy rod.
Teach me to
see thy wisdom--and adore!
[Footnote 1: I cannot resist the melancholy gratification of quoting
from the Literary Gazette, of August 18, in which the death of Mrs.
Gent was announced to the public.--"Science has, since our last,
suffered a severe lost by the death of this accomplished lady; she was
well known for her high attainments as a Lecturer, and her Course on
the Physiology of the External Senses was a perfect model of elegant
composition and refined oratory. Mrs. Gent died at the residence of her
husband, Thomas Gent, Esq. Doctor's Commons, after a month of
severe suffering, which she bore with singular fortitude, and the most
pious resignation. There is a fine bust of her, by Behnes; it was in the
Exhibition two years since, and, from its intrinsic simplicity and beauty
alone, has had many casts made from it."
And one of the