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 ROGERS. MISS BAILLIE. 339

among the masters of the lyre in foreign realms, there is none of whom I think with more regret, that I shall see their faces no more on earth.

The sublimity of Miss Baillie s poetry is felt on both sides of the Atlantic. She is a native of Scotland, and sister of the late celebrated physician of that name, whose monument is in Westminster Abbey. Whether it was the frankness of her nature, that touched the chords of sympathy, I know not ; but it was painful to bid her farewell.

Those who have been impressed by her tragic power in the &quot; Plays of the Passions,&quot; will not fail to appre ciate that more humble and sweet emanation of genius, a recent birthday tribute to her sister Agnes, of whom I have spoken, the loved companion of her days. Surely I shall be thanked for adding the following fragment of it.

&quot; So here thou art, still in thy comely age Active and ardent. Let what will engage The present moment, whether hopeful seeds In garden-plat thou sow, or noxious weeds From the fair flower remove, or ancient lore In chronicle, or legend rare explore, Or on the parlor hearth with kitten play, Stroking its tabby sides, or take thy way To gain with hasty step some cottage door, On helpful errand to the neighboring poor, Active and ardent, to my fancy s eye Thou still art young, in spite of time gone by. Oh, ardent, liberal spirit ! quickly feeling The touch of sympathy, and kindly dealing

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