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ALICE B. NEAL.

THIS young poetess, so richly endowed by nature with genius and grace, is a native of Hudson, New York. Her father's name was Bradley; her own baptismal name——Emily. She passed her childhood chiefly at Hudson, and at fourteen, went to a large boarding-school at New Hampton, New Hampshire, where, in addition to the usual branches of a young lady's education, she was taught Latin and Mathematics. For these, however, she felt no love; poetry being dearer than problems, and her own living imagination more companionable than the dead languages. While at school her first poems and tales were published,
principally in Neal's Gazette, a periodical which had just been commenced in Philidelphia. Its editor, the late Mr. Joseph C. Neal, a gentleman of great wit and varied talent, well known as the author of the inimitable "Charcoal Sketches," began a correspondence with his young contributor soon after she left school. Her musical pseudonyme, Alice Lee, he mistook for her real name; and subsequently——when a year's epistolary intercourse ended in close friendship, and that in a closer union,——he persuaded her to adopt the first part of it altogether. He lived but six months after his marriage; and more than half that short period was clouded by melancholy illness which terminated his life. During his indisposition, Mrs. Neal assisted him in his editorial duties; and now, in connection with Mr. C.J. Peterson, she continues the supervision of the paper, which still bears its original name. She is a constant contributor to the magazines and annuals of the day; and has written one or two books for children, and a clever volume called " The Gossips of Rivertown," published January 1850.
Her poems possess great fervour of feeling, a clearness and depth of thought, and a delightful freedom of expression. The second of our selections was written before she was fifteen; the editor of the periodical in which it first appeared observed truly, that "the union of poetic sentiment and practical wisdom it displays forms the rarest com-

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bination, especially in those who have yet to undergo the hard experiences of life." The following poem, so touching in its simple eloquence, was not the creation of fancy only, but of memory also, for when a child Mrs. Neal suffered several months the anguish of total blindness.

BLIND!

Part I.

The hand of the operator wavered——the instrument glanced aside——in a moment she was blind of life.——MS.

BLIND, said you? Blind for life!
'Tis but a jest——no, no, it cannot be
That I no more the blessed light may see!
Oh, what a fearful strife
Of horrid thought is raging in my mind!
I did not hear aright——"for ever blind!"

Mother, you would not speak
Aught but the truth to me, your stricken child;
Tell me I do but dream; my brain is wild,
And yet my heart is weak,
Oh, mother, fold me in a close embrace,
Bend down to me that dear, that gentle face.

I cannot hear your voice!
Speak louder, mother. Speak to me, and say
This frightful dream will quickly pass away.
Have I no hope, no choice?
Oh, Heaven, with light, has sound, too, from me fled!
Call, shout aloud, as if to wake the dead.

Thank God! I hear you now.
I hear the beating of your troubled heart,
With every woe of mine it has a part;
Upon my upturned brow

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