American Female Poets [an electronic edition]

Biographical Sketch: Mrs. Gray

Is a native of the north of Ireland, but came in early youth to this country. The modest and beautiful flower of her poetical genius, (which might be called a sensitive plant, so shrinkingly fearful it is of being brought into notice,) belongs therefore to America, though the seeds of it were sown in "the green isle" of her childhood. Her father's name was William Lewers; he resided in Castle-blayney, where she was born about the year 1800. On her mother's side, she is connected with Sir Thomas Browne, a Major-General in the Honourable East India Company, and other distinguished officers in the British army. On her father's side, she claims relationship with several of the warrior-patriots of the American Revolution. Her husband, Dr. John Gray, is, and has been for more than twenty-five years, pastor of the first Presbyterian church in Easton, Pennsylvania. Their residence is situated among the beautiful and romantic scenes that surround the "Forks of the Delaware;" scenes well calculated to inspire poetry, and foster devotianal feeling in those who look "through Nature up to Nature's God."

Mrs. Gray's effusions are all of a serious cast. Her Sabbath Reminiscences is a vivid and truthful picture of persons and places embalmed in her affectionate memory. It has been published in an English periodical, as presenting a favourable specimen of American poetry. We will not trust ourselves to speak the fervent praises its heartmelting simplicity awakes; but to us it is far more useful than the most learned and eloquent sermon could be, upon the fourth commandment. Two hundred years ago kindles enthusiasm as one reads it, for it is full of holy fire, and has moreover a sound like a far-reaching trumpet, full of exultation and triumph. Morn was published, without the writer's knowledge, in England, where it was so highly appreciated as to be translated into other languages. James Montgomery, of Sheffield, says, in a letter to Dr. Gray, "The critics who have mistaken the beautiful stanzas,' Morn,' for mine, have done me honour; but I willingly forego the claim, and am happy to recognise a sister-poet in the writer." As a writer of strictly religious poetry, Mrs. Gray is, in our estimation, almost unrivalled.