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Civil to all, compliant and polite,

Here, on this lawn, thy boys and girls shall run, Dispos'd to think, whatever is, is right.'

And play their gambols, when their tasks are done ; At home awhile-she in the autumn finds

There, from that window, shall their mother view The sea an object for reflecting minds,

The happy tribe, and smile at all they do; And change for lender spirits: There she reads, While thou, more gravely, hiding ihy delight, And weeps in comfort, in her graceful weeds !" Shalı cry, O! childish!" and enjoy the sighi!'" Vol. ii. p. 213.

Vol. ii. p. 352. The concluding tale is but the end of the We shall be abused by our political and visit to the Hall, and the settlement of the fastidious readers for the length of this article. younger brother near his senior, in the way But we cannot repent of it. It will give as we have already mentioned. It contains no much pleasure, we believe, and do as much great matter; but there is so much good na- good, as many of the articles that are meant ture and goodness of heart about it, that we for their gratification; and, if it appear absurd cannot resist the temptation of gracing our to quote so largely from a popular and accesexit with a bit of it. After a little raillery, sible work, it should be remembered, that no the elder brother says

work of this magnitude passes into circulation

with half the rapidity of our Journal-and "We part no more, dear Richard! Thou wilt that Mr. Crabbe is so unequal a writer, and need

at times so unattractive, as to require, more Thy brother's help to teach thy boys to read; And I should love to hear Matilda's psalm,

than any other of his degree, some explanaTo keep my spirit in a morning calm,

tion of his system, and some specimens of And feel the soft devotion that prepares

his powers, from those experienced and inThe soul to rise above its earthly cares;

trepid readers whose business it is to pioneer Then thou and I, an independent two,

for the lazier sort, and to give some account May have our parties, and defend them too; of what they are to meet with on their journey. Thy liberal notions, and my loyal fears, Will give us subjects for our future years;

To be sure, all this is less necessary now than We will fur fruth alone contend and read,

it was on Mr. Crabbe's first re-appearance And our good Jaques shall o'ersee our creed.'nine or ten years ago; and though it may not

Vol. ii. pp. 348, 349. be altogether without its use even at present, And then, after leading him up to his new

it may be as well to confess, that we have purchase, he adds eagerly

rather consulted our own gratification than

our readers' improvement, in what we have "Alight, my friend, and come, now said of him; and hope they will forgive I do beseech thee, 10 that proper home!

us.

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(August, 1820.) 1. Endymion : a Poetic Romance. By John Keats. 8vo. pp. 207. London: 1818. 2. Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. Agnes, and other Poems. By John Keats, author off

Endymion.12mo. pp. 200. London: 1820.* We had never happened to see either of indeed, bear evidence enough of the fact. these volumes till very lately—and have been they are full of extravagance and irreguexceedingly struck with the genius they dis- larity, rash attempts at originality, intermin play, and the spirit of poetry which breathes able wanderings, and excessive obscurity. through all their extravagance. That imita- They manifestly require, therefore, all the in tion of our old writers, and especially of our dulgence that can be claimed for a first atolder dramatists, to which we cannot help tempt:-But we think it no less plain that flattering ourselves that we have somewhat they deserve it: For they are flushed all over contributed, has brought on, as it were, a with the rich lights of fancy; and so coloured second spring in our poetry;--and few of 'its and bestrewn with the flowers of poetry, that blossoms are either more profuse of sweet- even while perplexed and bewildered in their ness, or richer in promise, than this which is labyrinths, it is impossible to resist the intoxinow before us. Mr. Keats, we understand, is cation of their sweetness, or to shut our hearts still a very young man; and his whole works, to the enchantments they so lavishly present.

The models upon which he has formed him* I still think that a poet of great power and self, in the Endymion, the earliest and by promise was lost to us by the premature death of much the most considerable of his poems, are Keats, in the twenty-fifth year of his age ; and re. gret that I did not go more largely into the exposi- obviously The Faithful Shepherdess of Fletchtion of his merits, in the slight notice of them, er, and the Sad Shepherd of Ben Jonson ;which I now venture to reprint. But though I can. the exquisite metres and inspired diction of not, with propriety, or without departing from the which he has copied with great boldness and supply this omnission, I hope to be forgiven for fidelity-and, like his great originals, has also having added a page or two to the citations, by contrived to impart to the whole piece that which my opinion of those merits was then illus- true rural and poetical air—which breathes trated, and is again left to the judgment of the reader. I only in them, and in Theocritus—which is at once homely and majestic, luxurious and rude, our view of the matter, of the true genius of and sets before us the genuine sights and English poetry, and incapable of estimating sounds and smells of the country, with all its appropriate and most exquisite beauties. the magic and grace of Elysium. His sub- With that spirit we have no hesitation in say. ject has the disadvantage of being Mytholog- ing that Mr. Keats is deeply imbued-and of ical; and in this respect, as well as on ac- those beauties he has presented us with many count of the raised and rapturous tone it con- striking examples. We are very much insequently assumes, his poem, it may be clined indeed to add, that we do not know thought, would be better compared to the any book which we would sooner employ as Comus and the Arcades of Milton, of which, a test to ascertain whether any one had in also, there are many traces of imitation. The him a native relish for poetry, and a genuine great distinction, however, between him and sensibility to its intrinsic charm. The greater these divine authors, is, that imagination in and more distinguished poets of our country them is subordinate to reason and judgment, have so much else in them, to gratify other while, with him, it is paramount and supreme tastes and propensities, that they are pretty -that their ornaments and images are em- sure to captivate and amuse those to whom ployed to embellish and recommend just their poetry may be but an hinderance and sentiments, engaging incidents, and natural obstruction, as well as those to whom it concharacters, while his are poured out without stitutes their chief attraction. The interest measure or restraint, and with no apparent of the stories they tell—the vivacity of the design but to unburden the breast of the characters they delineate—the weight and author, and give vent to the overflowing vein force of the maxims and sentiments in which of his fancy. The thin and scanty tissue of they abound—the very pathos, and wit and his story is merely the light framework on humour they display, which may all and each which his florid wreaths are suspended; and of them exist apart from their poetry, and inwhile his imaginations go rambling and en- dependent of it, are quite sufficient io account tangling themselves every where, like wild for their popularity, without referring much honeysuckles, all idea of sober reason, and to that still higher gift, by which they subdue plan, and consistency, is utterly forgotten, and to their enchantments those whose souls are 2 strangled in their waste fertility. A great truly attuned to the finer impulses of poetry. part of the work, indeed, is written in the It is only, therefore, where those other recomstrangest and most fantastical manner that mendations are wanting, or exist in a weaker can be imagined. It seems as if the author degree, that the true force of the attraction, had ventured every thing that occurred to exercised by the pure poetry with which they him in the shape of a glittering image or are so often combined, can be fairly aj prestriking expression—taken the first word that ciated :—where, without much incident or presented itself to make up a rhyme, and then many characters, and with little wit, wisdom, made that word the germ of a new cluster of or arrangement, a number of bright pictures images-a hint for a new excursion of the are presented to the imagination, and a fine fancy-and so wandered on, equally forgetful feeling expressed of those mysterious relations whence he came, and heedless whither he by which visible external things are assimi. was going, till he had covered his pages with lated with inward thoughts and emotions, and an interminable arabesque of connected and become the images and exponents of all pasincongruous figures, that multiplied as they sions and affections. To an unpoetical reader extended, and were only harmonised by the such passages will generally appear mere brightness of their tints, and the graces of raving and absurdity—and to this censure a their forms. In this rash and headlong career very great part of the volumes before us will he has of course many lapses and failures. certainly be exposed, with this class of read. There is no work, accordingly, from which a ers. Even in the judgment of a fitter audience, malicious critic could cull more matter for however, it must, we fear, be admitted, that, ridicule, or select more obscure, unnatural, or besides the riot and extravagance of his fancy absurd passages. But we do not take that to the scope and substance of Mr. Keats' poetry be our office ;—and must beg leave, on the is rather too dreamy and abstracted to excite contrary, to say, that any one who, on this the strongest interest, or to sustain the atten account, would represent the whole poem as tion through a work of any great compass or despicable, must either have no notion of extent. He deals too much with shadowy poetry, or no regard to truth.

and incomprehensible beings, and is too conIt is, in truth, at least as full of genius as stantly rapt into an extramundane Elysium, of absurdity; and he who does not find a to command a lasting interest with ordinary great deal in it to admire and to give delight, mortals—and must employ the agency oi cannot in his heart see much beauty in the more varied and coarser emotions, if he wishes two exquisite dramas to which we have al- to take rank with the enduring poets of this ready alluded; or find any great pleasure in or of former generations. There is something some of the finest creations of Milton and very curious, too, we think, in the way in Shakespeare. There are very many such per- which he, and Mr. Barry Cornwall also, have sons, we verily believe, even among the read- dealt with the Pagan "mythology, of which ing and judicious part of the community- they have made so much use in their poetry. correct scholars, we have no doubt, many of Instead of presenting its imaginary persons them, and, it may be, very classical composers under the trite and vulgar traits that belong in prose and in verse--but utterly ignorant, on to them in the ordinary systems, little more is borrowed from these than the general con- | And see that oftentimes the reins would slip ception of their condition and relations; and Through his forgotten hands!”—pp. 11, 12. an original character and distinct individuality There is then a choral hymn addressed to is then bestowed upon them, which has all the sylvan deity, which appears to us to be the merit of invention, and all the grace and full of beauty; and reminds us, in many attraction of the fictions on which it is en places, of the finest strains of Sicilian-or of grafted. The ancients, though they probably | English poetry. A part of it is as follows: did not stand in any great awe of their deities, have yet abstained very much from any From jagged trunks; and overshadoweth

O thou, whose mighty palace roof doth hang minute or dramatic representation of their Eternal whispers, glooms, the birth, lite, death feelings and affections. In Hesiod and Homer, Of unseen flowers, in heavy peacefulness ! they are broadly delineated by some of their Who lov'st to see the hamadryads dress actions and adventures, and introduced to us Their suffled locks, where meeting hazels darken; merely as the agents in those particular trans- And through whole solemn hours dost sit

, and

The dreary melody of bedded reeds (hearken actions; while in the Hymns, from those in desolate places, where dank moisture breeds ascribed to Orpheus and Homer, down to The pipy hemlock to strange overgrowth.those of Callimachus, we have little but pomp - 0 thou, for whose soul-soothing quiet, turtles ous epithets and invocations, with a flattering Passion their voices cooingly 'mong myrtles, commemoration of their most famous exploits What time thou wanderest at eventide -and are never allowed to enter into their Through sunny meadows, that ouiskirt the side bosoms, or follow out the train of their fee Of thine enmossed realms : 0 thou, to whom ings, with the presumption of our human Broad leaved fig trees even now foredoom sympathy. Except the love-song of the Cy- Their golden honeycombs; our village leas

Their ripen'd fruitage ; yellow girted bees clops to his Sea Nymph in Theocritus—the Their Fairest blossom'd beans and poppied corn ; Lamentation of Venus for Adonis in Moschus The chuckling linnet its five young unborn, -and the more recent Legend of Apuleius, To sing for thee; low creeping strawberries we scarcely recollect a passage in all the Their summer coolness ; pent up butterflies writings of antiquity in which the passions of Their freckled wings; yea, the fresh budding year an immortal are fairly disclosed to the scrutiny By every wind that nods the mountain pine, and observation of men.

The author before o forester divine ! us, however, and some of his contemporaries, have dealt differently with the subject ;-and, For willing service ; whether to surprise

•• Thou, to whom every fawn and satyr flies sheltering the violence of the fiction under The squatted hare while in half sleeping fit; the ancient traditionary fable, have in reality or upward ragged precipices flit created and imagined an entire new set of To save poor lambkins from the eagle's maw; characters; and brought closely and minutely Bewilderd shepherds to their path again

; before us the loves and sorrows and perplexi- Or to tread breathless round the frothy main, ties of beings, with whose names and super- And gather up all fancifullest shells natural attributes we had long been familiar, For iħee to rumble into Naiad's cells, without any sense or feeling of their personal And, being hidden, laugh at their out-peeping ! character. We have more ihan doubts of the Or to delight ihee with fantastic leaping, fitness of such personages to maintain a per-| With silv'ry oak apples, and fir cones brown

The while they pelt each other on the crown manent interest with the modern public ;

By all the echoes that about thee ring! but the way in which they are here managed Hear us, O satyr King! certainly gives them the best chance that now remains for them; and, at all events, it while ever and anon to his shorn peers

"O Hearkener to the loud clapping shears, cannot be denied that the effect is striking A ram goes bleating: Winder of the horn, and graceful. But we must now proceed to When snouted wild boars routing tender corn our extracts.

Anger our huntsmen! Breather round our farms, The first of the volumes before us is occu-To keep off mildews, and all weather harms: pied with the loves of Endymion and Diana- Strange ministrant of undescribed sounds, which it would not be very easy, and which And wither drearily on barren moors!'."

That come a swooning over hollow grounds, we do not at all intend to analyse in detail.

pp. 114-117. In the beginning of the poem, however, the Shepherd Prince is represented as having had

The enamoured youth sinks into insensistrange visions and delirious interviews with bility in the midst of the solemnity, and is an unknown and celestial beauty: Soon after borne apart and revived by the care of his which, he is called on to preside at a festival sister; and, opening his heavy eyes in her in honour of Pan; and his appearance in the arms, saysprocession is thus described :

"I feel this thine endearing love

All through my bosom! Thou art as a dove “His youth was fully blown, Trembling its closed eyes and sleeked wings Showing like Ganymede to manhood grown;

About me; and ihe pearliest dew not brings And, for those simple times, his garments were Such morning incense from the fields of May, A chieftain king's : Beneath his breast, half bare, As do those brighter drops that twinkling stray Was hung a silver bugle; and between

From those kind eyes. Then think not ihou His nervy knees there lay a boar-spear keen. That, any longer. I will pass my days A smile was on his countenance : He seem'd. Alone and sad. No! I will once more raise To common lookers on, like one who dream'd My voice upon the mountain heights ; once inore Of idleness in groves Elysian :

Make my horn parley from their foreheads hoar ! But there were some who feelingly could scan Again my trooping hounds their tongues shall loll A lurking trouble in his nether lip,

Around the breathed boar : again I'll poll

The fair-grown yew tree, for a chosen bow: Disparts a dew-lipp'd rose. Above his head, And, when the pleasant sun is getting low, Four lily stalks did their wbite honours wed Again I'll linger in a sloping mead

To make a coronal; and round him grew To hear the speckled thrushes, and see feed All tendrils green, of every bloom and hue, Our idle sheep. So be thou cheered, sweet, Together interiwin'd and irammel'd fresh: And, if thy luie is here, softly inireat

The vine of glossy sprout; the ivy mesh, My soul to keep in its resolved course.'

Shading its Ethiop berries; and woodbine,

Of velvet leaves and bugle-blooms divine. “ Hereat Peona, in their silver source Shut her pure sorrow drops, with glad exclaim ;

“ Hard by, And took a lute, from which there pulsing came Stood serene Cupids watching silently.. A lively prelude, fashioning the way

One kneeling to a lyre, touch'd the strings, In which her voice should wander. ''Twas a lay Muffling to death the pathos with his wings! More subile cadenced, more forest wild

And, ever and anon, uprose to look Than Dryope's lone lulling of her child ;

At the youth's slumber; while another took And noibing since has floaied in the air

A willow-bough, distilling odorous dew, So mournful strange."'-pp. 25—27.

And shook it on his hair ; another flew

In through the woven roof, and fluttering-wise He then tells her all the story of his love Rain violets upon his sleeping eyes.”—pp. 72, 73. and madness; and gives this airy sketch of the first vision he had, or fancied he had, of of Cybele—with a picture of lions that might

Here is another, and more classical sketch. his descending Goddess. After some rapturous excite the envy of Rubens, or Edwin Landintimations of ihe glories of her gold-burnished

seer! hair, he says

Forth from a rugged arch, in the dusk below, She had,

Came mother Cybele! alone-alone!Indeed, locks bright enough to make ine mad!

In sombre chariol: dark foldings thrown And they were simply gordian'd up and braided,

About her majesty, and front death-pale Leaving, in naked comeliness, unshaded,

With turrets crown'd. Four maned lions hale Her pearl round ears, while neck, and orbed brow; The sluggish wheels; solemn their toothed maws, The which were blended in, I know not how,

Their surly eyes brow-hidden, heavy paws
With such a paradise of lips and eyes,

Uplifted drowsily, and nervy tails
Blush-tinted cheeks. half smiles, and faintest sighs, Cowering their lawny brushes. Silent sails
That when I think thereon, my spirit clings

This shadowy queen athwart, and faints away And melts into the vision!"

In another gloomy arch !"--p. 83. " And then her hovering feet! More bluely vein'd, more soft, more whitely sweet

The following picture of the fairy waterThan those of sea-born Venus, when she rose works, which he unconsciously sets playing in From out her cradle shell! The wind outblows these enchanted caverns, is, it must be conHer scarf into a fluttering pavilion !

fessed, “high fantastical;" but we venture to 'Tis blue; and overspangled with a million extract it, for the sake of the singular brilliancy Of litile eyes; as though ihou wert to shed

and force of the execution.Over the darkest, lushest blue bell bed, Handfuls of daisies."'

So on he hies Overpowered by this “ celestial colloquy Gold dome, and crystal wall, and turquoise floor,

Through caves and palaces of mouiled ore, sublime," he sinks at last into slumber—and Black polish'd porticos of awful shade, on wakening finds the scene disenchanted; Till, at the last, a diamond ballustrade and the dull shades of evening deepening over Leads sparkling just above the silvery heads his solitude :

Of a thousand fountains ; so that he could dash

The waters with his spear ! But at that splash, “ Then up I started.-Ah! my sighs, my tears ! Done heedlessly, those spouting columns rose My clenched hands! For lo! the poppies hung Sudden a poplar's height, and 'gan lo enclose Dew dabbled on their stalks; the ouzel sung His diamond path with frei work, streaming round, A heavy dilly; and the sullen day

Alive, and dazzling cool, and with a sound Had chidden herald Hesperus away,

Haply, like dolphin tumulls, when sweet shells With leaden looks. The solitary breeze

Welcome the car of Thetis? Long he dwells Bluster'd and slept; and its wild self did leaze On this delight; for every minute's space, With wayward melancholy. And I thought, The streams with changing magic interlace ; Mark me, Peona! that sometimes it brought, Sometimes like delicatest lattices, Faint Fare-thee-wells—and sigh-shrilled Adieus !” Cover'd with crystal vines: then weeping trees

Moving about, as in a gentle wind; Soon after this he is led away by butterflies Which, in a wink, 10 wat'ry gauze refin'd 10 the haunts of Naiads; and by them sent Pour into shapes of curtain'd canopies, down into enchanted caverns, where he sees Spangled, and rich with liquid broideries Venus and Adonis, and great flights of Cupids; Swifter than lightning went these wonders rare ;

of Flowers, Peacocks, Swans, and Naiads fair! and wanders over diamond terraces among And then the water into stubborn streams beautiful fountains and temples and statues, Collecting, mimick'd the wrought oaken beams, and all sorts of fine and strange things. All Pillars, and frieze, and high fantastic roof this is very fantastical: But there are splendid of those dark places, in times far aloof pieces of description, and a sort of wild rich Cathedrals named !" ness in the whole. We cull a few little mor

There are strange melodies too around him; sels. This is the picture of the sleeping and their effect on the fancy is thus poetically Adonis :

described :“In midst of all, there lay a sleeping youth

“Oh! when the airy stress Of sondest beauty. Sideway his face repos'd or Music's kiss impregnates the free winds, On one white arm, and tenderly unclos'd,

And with a sympathetic touch unbinds
By tenderest pressure, a faint damask mouth Eolian magic from their lucid wonibs,
So slumbery pout; just as the morning south Then old songs waken from forgotten tombe !

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Old ditties sigh above their father's grave! imitations; but we have no longer time for Ghosts of melodious prophesyings rave

such a task. Mr. Keats has followed his Round every spot where trod Apollo's feet! Bronze clarions awake, and faintly bruit,

original more closely, and has given a deep Where long ago, a Giant battle was!

pathos to several of his stanzas. The widowAnd from the surf a lullaby doth pass,

ed bride's discovery of the murdered body is In every place where infani Orpheus slept!" very strikingly given.

In the midst of all these enchantments he 'Soon she turn'd up a soiled glove, whereon has, we do not very well know how, another

Her silk had play'd in purple phantasies!

She kiss'd it with a lip more chill than stone, ravishing interview with his unknown god

And put it in her bosom, where it dries. dess; and when she again melts away from Then 'gan she work again ; nor stay'd her care, him, he finds himself in a vast grotto, where But to throw back at times her veiling hair. he overhears the courtship of Alpheus and Arethusa; and as they elope together, dis

“That old nurse stood beside her, wondering,

Until her heart felt pity to the core, covers that the grotto has disappeared, and At sight of such a dismal labouring ; that he is at the bottom of the sea, under the And so she kneeled, with her locks all hoar, transparent arches of its naked waters! The And put her lean hands to the horrid ihing : following is abundantly extravagant; but

Three hours they labour'd at this trivial sore ; comes of no ignoble lineage-nor shames its

At last they felt the kernel of the grave, &c. high descent:

* In anxious secrecy they took it home,

And then-the prize was all for Isabel ! " Far had he roam'

She calm'd its wild hair with a golden comb; With nothing save the hollow vast, that foam'd

And all around each eye's sepulchral cell Above, around, and at his feet; save things

Pointed cach fringed lash: The smeared loam More dead than Morpheus' imaginings !

With tears, as chilly as a dripping well, [kep Old rusted anchors, helmets, breast-plates large

She drench'd away :-and still she comb'd, ang Of gone sea-warriors; brazen beaks and targe;

Sighing all day-and still she kiss'd, and wept Rudders that for a thousand years had lost The sway of human hand; gold vase emboss'd “ Then in a silken scarf-sweet with the dews With long-forgotten story, and wherein

Of precious flowers pluck'd in Araby, No reveller had ever dipp'd a chin

And divine liquids come with odorous ooze But those of Saturn's vintage ; mould'ring scrolls, Through the cold serpent-pipe refreshfully, Writ in the tongue of heaven, by those souls She wrapp'd it up; and for its iomb did choose Who first were on the earth ; and sculptures rude A garden pot, wherein she laid it by, In pond'rous stone, developing the mood

And cover'd'il with mould ; and o'er it set Of ancient ox;-then skeletons of man,

Sweet Basil, which her tears kept ever wet. Of beast, behemoth, and leviathan,

“ And she forgot the stars, the moon, the sun! And elephant, and eagle--and huge jaw

And she forgot the blue above the trees; Of nameless monster.

And she forgoi the dells where waters run, There he finds ancient Glaucus enchanted

And she forgot the chilly autumn breeze!

She had no knowledge when the day was done by Circe-hears his wild story—and goes with And the new morn she saw not! But in peu him to the deliverance and restoration of thou.

Hung over her sweet Basil evermore, sands of drowned lovers, whose bodies were And moisten'd it with tears, unto the core !" piled and stowed away in a large submarine

pp. 72–73. palace. When this feat is happily performed, he finds himself again on dry ground, with ingale are equally distinguished for harmony

The following lines from an ode to a Nigbtwoods and waters around him; and cannot help falling desperately in love with a

and high poetic feeiirg:beautiful damsel whom he finds there, pining "O for a beaker full of the warm South ! for some such consolation ; and who tells a Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrenie, long story of having come from India in the With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, train of Bacchus, and having strayed away

And perple-stained mouih! from him into that forest !-So they vow eter

That I mighi drink, and leave the world unseen,

And with thee fade away into the foreal dim. nal fidelity; and are wafted up to heaven on

lir.de fer away! dissolve-and quito forget flying horses; on which they sleep and dream Wha! Thou among the leaves hast never among the stars ;-and then the lady melts

knownaway, and he is again alone upon the earth;

The weariness, the fever, and the frot, (groan; but soon rejoins his Indian love, and agrees

Here, -where men sit and hear each other

Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs, to give up his goddess, and live only for her:

Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and But she refuses, and says she is resolved to

dies! devote herself to the service of Diana: But, Where but to think is to be full of sorrow when she goes to accomplish that dedication,

And leaden-eyed despairs. she turns out to be the goddess herself in a

The voice I hear, this passing night was heard

In ancient days by emperor and clown ! new shape! and finally exalts her lover with her to a blessed immortality!

Perhaps the self-same song that found a path

Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for We have left ourselves room to say but lit

home, tle of the second volume; which is of a more She stood in tears amid the alien corn! miscellaneous character. Lamia is a Greek

The same that oft-times hath antique story, in the measure and taste of En- Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam, dymion. Isabella is a paraphrase of the same

Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn."

pp. 108–111. tale of Boccacio wnich Mr. Cornwall has also imitated, under the title of “A Sicilian Story." We know nothing at once so truly fresh, It would be worth while to compare the two lg-nuine, and English,--and, at the same

p. 111.

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