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of nature, which we consider one of his striking characteristics, and which constitutes one point of resemblance between him and Cowper. We add, it is his habit of minute and diligent observation, which renders his pictures so purely American. His descriptions have a definite locality. They apply to American scenery, and to no other.
The · Hymn' is a rich offering of the fancy and heart. The following are the introductory lines.
The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned
with the thought of boundless power
Acceptance in his ear. p. 43. We assure our readers, that much of what Mr Bryant has contributed to the present collection, is as good as that we have here offered them. We will not undertake to point out passages of the greatest beauty. The true lover of poetry will be at no loss in discovering them.
Of Mr Percival, who, next to Mr Bryant, is the largest contributor, less needs be said here, as we have in the preceding pages
our present number spoken somewhat at length concerning him. He has copiousness, we may say exuberance, both of matter and words; a rich and excursive imagination, which delights to revel amid gorgeous and airy forms of beauty; and often throws off lines of great vigor and sweetness.
happy moments of inspiration, and with more labor of revision, with greater willingness to reject what serves only to embarrass the sense, and more care in selecting from the wilderness of
thick coming fancies' only what is adapted to his purpose, he might exert a magic influence over our hearts. His narratives are apt to be overloaded or perplexed. The consequence is, the attention is encumbered or distracted, and the impression weakened. His contributions to this volume, as well as his other works, bear the stamp of true genius, but show too frequent marks of carelessness in the execution.
After all, Mr Percival's poetry is of a fascinating character. Amid his negligent versification, his wildness and redundance, he has strains of surpassing beauty. The pieces he has contributed to the present collection bear the characteristic traits of his genius, though they are not chargeable with all the faults, which disfigure some of his larger productions. Several of them are lofty and beautiful creations.
· The Graves of the Patriots,' though not altogether faultless in expression, contains bursts of genuine and exalted feeling. The lines on · Spring' are gay and airy, and the progress of the Zephyr fancifully described. The Desolate City' is fearfully impressive. Of the piece entitled, “Painting—a Personification,' we give the opening and concluding parts.
One bright sunshiny autumn day,
And clear as a mirrored sheet it lay;
And phantoms would come and pass away,
Now for the touch of a master hand-
pp. 116, 117, 120, 121. The beauty of the above extract is marred by occasional slovenliness of execution. We refer particularly to the description of the changing expression of the lips, in the last eight or ten lines, which is clumsy and perplexed.
Among Mr Percival's other pieces, The Last Song of the Greek Patriot,' and Grecian Liberty,' breathe a stern feeling of patriotism, and contain much spirited and glowing description. • Italy, a Conference,' has some passages of great luxuriance and beauty. But we can afford no more extracts.
Among the contributions furnished to this volume by others, there is much good poetry, and we are gratified with their appearance, not merely as they serve to swell our stock of native poetry, but as they hold out the promise of better things hereafter. There is, in particular, a good deal of poetical feeling and imagery in the pieces contributed by Mr Longfellow. He is generally flowing, manly, and correct; but he occasionally allows a feeble line, or negligent expression, to have place. We do not think that the two lines,
Why comes he not? Alas! I should
Reclaim him still, if weeping could,' p. 114. are in the best style of versification. The auxiliaries should and could, employed as rhyming words, give the couplet an appearance of poverty and feebleness. We could point to other occasional blemishes, but these weigh little in comparison with the author's prevailing merits. The following stanzas purporting to have been a Hymn of the Moravian Nuns, at the Consecration of Pulaski's Banper,' have been much and justly admired.
When the dying flame of day
Had been consecrated there.
Take thy banner -may it wave
Guard it-till our homes are free
Martial cloak and shroud for thee!
pp. 58–60. Mr Jones's versification is generally easy and correct, and liis conceptions sprightly, and sometimes vigorous, His. Autumnal Hymn of the Husbandman' is characterized by great simplicity of language. Much plainness, and perhaps occasional homeliness of thought and expression, are permitted or required by the subject. We think, however, that in his attempt to attain the utmost degree of simplicity, this writer has been occasionally betrayed into the use of expressions, which good taste would modify or reject. As a specimen of Mr Jones's manner, we quote the hymn entire.
Now we rest from our toils, Lord, our labors are done,