Ah! then and there were hurrying to and fro, Since upon nights so sweet, such awful morn could rise! Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, On whispering, with white lips-"The foe! They come, they come!" A fine specimen of Byron's writing may be seen in section xii., allotted to Henry Kirke White. SECTION XX. ROBERT POLLO K. His chief work is "The Course of Time," an admirable poem, displaying more than ordinary poetic ability, and great profundity of thought. Unlike too much of the poetry of the age, it conveys definite and valuable ideas. It is free from that wordy indefiniteness which is the fault of much of modern writing. It presents just views of human character, history, and condition, while the Divine government over our world is correctly and strikingly portrayed. It abounds in beautiful and impressive pictures. It is written in blank verse, and can be read without weariness. One of his biographers informs us that his habits were those of a close student: his reading was extensive; he could converse on almost every subject: he had a great facility in composition: in confirmation of which, he is said to have written nearly a thousand lines weekly of the last four books of the "Course of Time." For so young a man, this poem was a vast achievement. The book he loved best was the Bible, and his style is often scriptural. Young, Y Milton, and Byron, were the poets which he chiefly studied. He had much to learn in composition; and, had he lived, he would have looked almost with humiliation on much that is at present eulogized by his devoted admirers. But the soul of poetry is there, though often dimly enveloped, and many passages there are, and long ones, too, that heave, and hurry, and glow along in a divine enthusiasm. The following description, by him, of a poet, is thought to apply to S. T. Coleridge, whom we have already noticed: "Most fit was such a place for musing men, Happiest sometimes when musing without aim. It was, indeed, a wondrous sort of bliss The lonely bard enjoy'd, when forth he walk'd And sought-sought neither heaven nor earth-sought naught, Of visionary things, fairer than aught That was; and saw the distant tops of thoughts Greater than aught that largest worlds could hold,. Or give idea of to those who read. He enter'd into Nature's holy place, The following extract exhibits a prophetic view of the literature of the Course of Time, particularly descriptive of our own day of multitudinous publications; too many of which are faithfully portrayed in the language of the author, as being "Like swarms Of locusts, which God sent to vex a land THE BOOKS OF TIME. "One glance of wonder, as we pass, deserve Thy wonder stay: like men, this was their doom: And oft their fathers, childless and bereaved, Wept o'er their graves, when they themselves were green; And on them fell, as fell on every age, As on their authors fell, oblivious Night, Which o'er the past lay darkling, heavy, still, Impenetrable, motionless, and sad, Having his dismal leaden plumage, stirr'd NOVELS. The story-telling tribe alone outran Lagging, the swiftest number; dreadful, even And room had lack'd, had not their life been short. Thou thus, express'd in gentle phrase, which leaves With nature, with itself and truth at war: SECTION XXI. MRS. FELICIA D. HEMANS, born in 1793, of Irish and German origin, passed her youth among the mountains and valleys of North Wales, the sublime and beautiful scenes of which produced their natural effects upon her mind. “The earnest and continual study of Shakspeare imparted to her the power of giving language to thought; and before she had entered her thirteenth year, a printed collection of her Juvenile Poems was given to the world. From this period till her death, in 1835, she has sent forth volume after volume, each surpassing the other in sweetness and power. A tone of gentle, unforced, and persuasive goodness pervades her poetry; it displays no fiery passion and resorts to no vehement appeal: it is often sad, but never exhibits a complaining spirit; her diction is harmonious and free; her themes, though infinitely varied, are all happily chosen, and treated with grace, originality, and judgment. Her poetry is full of images, but they are always natural and true; it is studded with ornaments, but they are never unbecoming.” THE SWITZER'S WIFE. The bright blood left the youthful mother's cheek ; Like a frail harp-string, shaken by the storm. And she, that ever through her home had moved And timid in her happiness the while, Stood brightly forth and steadfastly, that hour Thy soul is darken'd with its fears for me. Of my desponding tears; now lift once more, "Go forth beside the waters, and along The chamois-paths, and through the forests go, God shall be with thee, my beloved!-Away! To clarion-sounds upon the ringing air; He caught her to his breast, while proud tears breaking Now shall thy name be armor to my heart; In the clear starlight; he, the strength to rouse To rock her child beneath the whispering boughs, With a low hymn, amid the stillness deep." We should be glad to quote more largely from this gifted poetess, and from others of Great Britain, but must limit ourselves to a criticism of Professor Wilson, of Edinburgh, upon them-as a class. The BRITISH POETESSES, he says, seem a series of exceedingly sensible maids and matronsnot "with eyes in a fine phrensy rolling"-nor with hair disheveled by the tossings of inspiration, but of calm countenances and sedate demeanor, not very distinguishable from those we love to look on by "parlor twilight" in any happy household we are in the habit of dropping in upon of an evening a familiar guest. SECTION XXII, HENRY KIRKE WHITE. No one can read the memoir of this young bard, from the elegant pen of Southey the poet, without deep sensibility. We shall furnish a few sketches to allure the young student to an imitation of the literary industry of White, though it will be necessary to add a serious caution about that neglect of physical culture, and of health, which brought him to a premature grave at the age of twenty-one. When very young, his love of reading was decidedly manifested. At eleven years of age, he one |