A. The word is from the Italian, and literally means a little song; but, as usually employed, it signifies a short poem, consisting generally of fourteen lines, arranged in a particular manner, and ending in some pointed thought or sentiment.

SECTION II.

EXAMPLES OF ENGLISH LYRICS.

The first is a small one; but, as Montgomery says, it grows (like the taper in the second stanza) clearer and brighter the more it is contemplated. It describes a captive under sentence of death, and is written by Goldsmith :

"The wretch, condemn'd with life to part,

Still, still on hope relies,

And every pang that rends his heart

Bids expectation rise.

Hope, like the glimmering taper's light,
Adorns and cheers his way,

And still, as darker grows the night,
Emits a brighter ray."

Poetry is the short-hand of thought. This is evident from the quantity of thought contained in the few lines that follow: TO THE MEMORY OF THOSE WHO FELI, IN THE REBELLION OF 1745. "How sleep the brave who sink to rest With all their country's wishes bless'd When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallow'd mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung, By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall a while repair

To dwell, a weeping hermit there."-COLLINS.

Again, what a quantity of thought is here condensed in the compass of twelve lines, like a cluster of rock-crystals, sparkling and distinct, yet receiving and reflecting lustre by their combination. The stanzas themselves are almost unrivaled in the association of poetry with picture, pathos with fancy, grandeur with simplicity, and romance with reality. The melody of the verse leaves nothing for the ear to desire, except a continuance of the strain, or, rather, the repetition of a strain, which can not tire by repetition. The imagery is of the most delicate and exquisite character, Spring decking the turfy sod, Fancy's feet treading upon the flowers there, fairy hands ringing the knell, unseen forms singing the dirge of the glorious dead; but, above all, and never to be surpassed in picturesque and imaginative beauty, Honor, as an old and broken soldier, coming on a far pilgrimage

to visit the shrine where his companions in arms are laid to rest; and Freedom, in whose cause they fought and fell-leaving the mountains and fields, the hamlets and the unwalled cities of England, delivered by their valor-hastening to the spot, and dwelling (but only for "a while") "a weeping hermit there." The sentiment, too, is profound: "How sleep the brave!" Then, in that lovely line,

"With all their country's wishes bless'd!"

is implied every circumstance of loss and lamentation, of solemnity at the interment, and posthumous homage to their memory, by the threefold personages of the scene, living, shadowy, and preternatural beings. As for thought, he who can hear this little dirge "sung," as it is, by the "unseen form" of the author himself, who can not die in it-without having thoughts, "as thick as motes that people the sunbeams," thronging through his mind, must have a brain as impervious to the former as the umbrage of a South American forest to the latter. There are in its associations of war, peace, glory, suffering, life, death, immortality, which might furnish food for a midsummer-day's meditation, and a midwinter night's dream afterward, could June and December be made to meet in a poet's revery.

FROM THE EXEQUY ON THE DEATH OF A BELOVED WIFE, By Henry King, bishop of Chichester; born 1591, died 1669. "Sleep on, my love, in thy cold bed,

Never to be disquieted:

My last good-night thou wilt not wake
Till I thy fate shall overtake;

Till age, or grief, or sickness, must

Marry my body to that dust

It so much loves, and fill the room
My heart keeps empty in thy tomb.
Stay for me there; I will not fail
To meet thee in that hollow vale;
And think not much of my delay,
I am already on the way,
And follow thee with all the speed
Desire can make, or sorrow breed.
Each minute is a short degree,
And every hour a step toward thee;
At night, when I betake to rest,
Next morn I rise nearer my West
Of life, almost by eight hours' sail,

Than when sleep breathed his drowsy gale."

What a "last good-night!" is this! and oh! what a one "goodmorrow!" to last for eternity, when such partners awake from the same bed, in the resurrection of the just! Is there the "man born of a woman," who has loved a woman, and lost whom he loved, and lamented whom he has lost, that will not feel in the depth of his spirit all the tenderness and truth of these old-fashioned couplets! I dare not offer a comment upon them, lest I should disturb the sanctity of repose which they are calculated to inspire.

Nature speaks all languages; and no style is too quaint or pe dantic, in which she may not utter heart-sentiments in terms that can not be misunderstood, or, understood, be resisted.

Dryden's "Alexander's Feast" is undoubtedly the lyric masterpiece of English poetry, in respect to versification; exemplifying, as it does, all the capabilities of our language, in the use of iambics, trochees, anapæsts, dactyls, and spondees. The metres in this composition are so varying, and yet so consonant-so harmonious and so contrasted-they implicate and disentangle again so naturally, so necessarily almost, that I know not to what they can better be compared than to a group of young lions at play-meeting, mingling, separating-pursuing, attacking, repelling-changing attitude, action, motion, every instant-all fire, force, and flexibility-exuberant in spirits, yet wasting none; while the poet, like the sire, couched and looking on, may be presumed with his eye to have ruled every turn and crisis of their game. He sings, indeed, the triumph of music; but his poetry triumphs over his subject, and he insinuates as much. It was less "the breathing flute and sounding lyre" of Timotheus than the living voice, the changing themes, the language of light and power of the bard, "that won the cause." A single section will justify this praise; the measures, it will be observed, change in every couplet: there are scarce two lines alike in accentuation, yet the whole seems as spontaneous as the cries of alarm and consternation excited by the bacchanal orgies described:

"Now strike the golden lyre again,

A louder yet, and yet a louder strain;
Break his bands of sleep asunder,

And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder.
Hark! hark! the horrid sound

Has raised up his head,

As awaked from the dead,

And amazed he stares around.

Revenge! revenge! Timotheus cries;

See the furies arise;

See the snakes that they rear,

How they hiss in the air,

And the sparkles that flash from their eyes.

Behold the ghastly band,

Each a torch in his hand!

These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle are slain,

And unburied remain,

Inglorious on the plain;

Give the vengeance due

To the valiant crew!

Behold how they toss their torches on high

How they point to the Persian abodes

And glittering temples of the hostile gods!

The princes applaud with a furious joy,

And the king seized a flambeau, with zeal to destroy;

Thais led the way,

To light him to his prey,

And, like another Helen, fired another Troy."

CHAPTER XIII.

OF EPIC POETRY.

Q. What rank does the Epic hold in poetry?

A. It generally occupies the first place among poetic compositions, and, if well executed, is regarded as one of the noblest displays of poetic, if not even of human genius.

Q. What is its peculiar object?

A. To describe some great and important action or event, for the purpose of making it subservient to moral instruction.

Q. What other name does it often receive?

A. It is frequently styled heroic poetry, because, .n every poem of this sort, there is a leading character called the hero.

Q. Why is he so named?

A. Because the whole course of the action, and train of the events, are made to turn upon the manner in which he performs his part.

Q. What name does the plan of such a work commonly receive? A. It is commonly called the plot, which denotes the arranging of all the various parts into a regular whole.

Q. And in what manner is the plot carried on?

A. Partly by the descriptions and details which the poet himself makes; and partly by the introduction of actors, who have all their different parts to perform. Q. What is this selecting and arranging of the different parts called?

A. It is usually styled the machinery, which denotes the means adopted by the poet for carrying his plot to a conclusion.

Q. Does he begin and give a regular account of the whole transaction from the commencement?

A. No; he generally begins in the middle, but at some important part of the narrative; and, after describing the state of things as then existing, he introduces different actors to explain what had led to such

events.

Q. What name is given to those parts which are introduced as if for mere embellishment?

A. They are called episodes, which mean separate

incidents or stories, having an intimate, though not a necessary connection with the main action.

Q. How should an epic poem be arranged?

A. With such order and regularity, that all the parts may have a close dependence upon each other. Q. What ought the sentiments and language to be?

A. Lofty and dignified, always moving with majesty, and never stooping to what is mean or trivial.

Q. What must be the character of the style?

A. It may, in point of ornament, admit of every variety of which composition is susceptible; but its leading feature ought to be sublimity.

Q. Have there been many great epic poems produced?

A. Very few, compared with the number of excellent productions in almost every other description of poetry

Q. Can you mention the principal?

A. The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer, the Æneid of Virgil, the Jerusalem Delivered of Tasso, and the Paradise Lost of Milton.

Q. Can you mention the subjects of each of these?

A. The subject of the Iliad is the destruction of Troy; of the Odyssey, the wanderings of Ulysses; of the Æneid, the settlement of Æneas in Italy; of the Jerusalem, its deliverance from Mussulman oppression; and of Paradise Lost, the fall of man from his primitive state of innocence, and consequent expulsion from the garden of Eden.

CHAPTER XIV.

OF DRAMATIC POETRY.

Q. What do you understand by Dramatic Poetry?

A. Poetry founded upon a regular plot or story, and fitted to be represented by action on the stage. Q. In what does it differ from epic poetry?

A. In its containing no narrative on the part of the poet, being all spoken or performed by the different actors or characters who are introduced.

Q. What is the greatest excellence of dramatic poetry?

A. Its being in accordance with nature, and making a near approach to the character of real life.