terrors. into descriptions which may entertain, but neither strengthen nor elevate the mind. Gray, fastidious in taste, and jealous of reputation, has left few productions of his Muse, but they are exquisite in their kind. His well-known Elegy,' will be read while there is a human mind capable either of feeling or of taste; yet must we lament its entire destitution of those truths, which by bringing “ life and immortality to light” have rubbed death of its sting, and the grave of its This deficiency has been supplied by an anonymous American poet, whose interesting lines will be found on the 253rd page. Cow PER is the most useful and interesting of Christian Poets. Greatly inferior to Milton in creative genius, he excels him in moral effect, by coming home to the business and bosoms of men. If be does not, like our Epic Bard, enable us to range through ideal worlds, he shows ns as in a lucid and faithful mirror the scenery and interests of our own. If he does not, like him, invest the facts of Revelation with high imaginings, he inculcates its special verities with unsparing fidelity and poetic charm, Even bis satire is kindly severe, wounding to heal; while in his humorous pieces, it is the moral which adorns the tale. Contemporary with Cowper, though a Poet of very different order, was the unhappy BURNS. We admire his Hogarih-like humour, his thrilling pathos, bis native grace and fire, but we lament his abuse of the extraordinary talents with which "the Father of lights” had endued him. His “Cotter's Satarday-Night” will transmis to distant ages a faithful picture of Scottish piety in humble life. Its length alone prevented its insertion. Of the same nation with Burns, was the meek, tender, and pious GRAHAMB. The several pieces introduced from his works carry with them their own recommendation. | Having arrived at our own time, BYRON, its brightest poetical ornament, claims our first attention. We are not insensible either to the might or the charm of his Lordship’s genius, but we confess that his productions remind us of poison presented in a golden chalice, or of the serpent which fascinates to deceive, and lures to destroy. Even his descriptions of Nature are interwoven with 'sentiments which no believer in the truth of Scripture, or friend to human happiness can approve. We have, thongh not without difficulty, furnished a few unexceptionable extracts from his works. We cannot refrain from expressing our admiration of « The Course of Time." It is a Poem which will live when some of its more flashy compeers shall have been forgotten. It may have been over-praised ; it is occasionally harsh and prosaic; but withal, it is a work of extraordinary merit and promise ;--promise alas,-never to be realized in the present world! Its highly-gifted Author can no more be soothed by flattery; nor grieved by censure. His earthly Harp lies broken and silent in death, but he has taken up the “ Harp of Eternity” and is singing the “new song" in rapt and undying strains “ In the blest kingdom meek of joy and love, And wipe the tear forever from his eyes." “ Each gives each a double charm.” His early death is among those hidden mysteries of Providence, which we wait the light of Eternity to reveal. Our notice of living Poets, must be very brief. WORDS WORTH abounds in musings, which are exceedingly beautiful, though occasionally obscure. CRABBE is the poetic Morland of the day. His graphic sketches of life cannot fail to interest and please, though we wish they were less morbid, and not deformed by occasional caricatures of Evangelical Truth. CAMPBELL, who has written no second work worthy of his superior genius, seems determined to leave us to “The Pleasures of Hope." We find in Sir W. Scott several faithful pictures of Nature and well-told tales of olden time, but it is not by his poetry chiefly that he will be known tv posterity ; indeed its reputation seems to be already on the decline. SOUTHEY has exchanged his Aonian flights for the more profitable walks of prose, and as his principles have greatly improved in his maturer years, we wish that he would favour us with more frequent effasions of his Muse; of a different class, however, from his “Vision of Judgment." COLERIDGE, if he had written nothing but his “Chamouny," included in this Selection, would deserve to rank with Poets of a superior order. MONTGOMERY, more than any other living Poet, resembles the amiable Cowper, and is entitled to the rare praise of having written “No line which dying he need wish to blot.” The Poetry of Mrs. Hemans reminds us of her first name, as few excel her in correctness of sentiment, or Felicity of diction. She is worthy of being associated with a BARBAULD, a H. More, and a J. TAYLOR. BOWRING has not only transfused the beauties of Foreign Poets into his own language, but is himself a Poet of no ordinary merit. In this brief notice of many of the Poets of our Country, we have omitted several names, dear both to genius and to piety, and from whose works we have enriched our Selection. In compiling our volume, we have endeavoured to confine ourselves to Poetry of a superior order, except in instances in which the pith and unction of the sentiment more than compensate the defects of the Muse. Rigid attention bas been paid to the principles of the Work, so that we hope it contains nothing offensive to the purest Morals, or inconsistent with Revealed Truth. The Arrangement will we hope be found convenient, and supply a deficiency which must have been often remarked in works of a similar kind. We beg to acknowledge our obligations to various living Authors; particularly to Messrs. MONTGOMERY, BOWRING, EDM ESTON, and CONDER; also to our gifted, but too-much-neglected Townsman, CARRINGTON. We are much indebted to our Subscribers, and beg them to accept the Vignette, as an expression of our gratitnde for their kind Patronage of the volume, which we now commend to their judgment-to public inspection-and to the blessing of God. T. WILLCOCKS. Devonport, 1829. INDEX 70 3; 1) PAGE. ABASH'd be all the boast of age » ... 142 BEAUTIFUL are you in your lowliness 57 Above, below, where'er I gaze vs. 11 , I have been ...... Above me are the Alps... ***"..... 101 Begin from first wbere be encradled .. 134 A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun 105 Behold the changes of the skies 48 A crimson glow adorns the western sky 260 Behold the large Leviathan arise 81 Acquaint thee, O mortal, acquaint thee 206 Behold this ruin, 'twas a skull........ 294 Adieu to thee fạir Rhine, a vain adien 91 Behold yon glorious, orb, whose feeble 109 A fairer isle than Britain, never sun., 82 Be it a weakness it deserves some praise 119 A florist a sweet little blossom espied 67 Beneath, a sleeping infant lies 255 Again the Lord of life and light 160 Beneath the hedge, or near the stream 72 Alas for Sicily! rúde fragments now.. 224 Beyond the glittering starry skies 163 A little particle of rain ............. 296 Blame not the monumental stone .... 255 All in the power of their great Maker 33 Blessed be thy name for ever ........ 17 All pight the booming minnte yun... 95 Blind, poor, and helpless Bartimeus sat 144 All worldly shapes shall melt in glooin 272 Bold Infidelity! torn pale and die.... 255 Almighty King who sit'st above ...... 8 Brightest and best of the sons of the.. 140 And afterwards the famous rivers came 89 Bright morning star of bliss.......... 174 And did he rise? Hear, 0, ye nations 159 Bright portals of the sky 161 And first came Faith, the Marshal ... 172 Bright stranger, welcome to my field 71 Aud forth they passe, with pleasure 51 Bright Summer beams along the sky.. 37 And greedy Avarice by him did ride.. 125 But art thon thus indeed alone ?...... 235 And him beside rides fierce, revenging 125 But how shall He the great Supreme.. 206 And is there care in heaven, and is .. 185 But if our thoughts are fix'd aright.... 239 And next to him malicious Envy rode 125 | By Judab's vales, and olive-glades.... 204 And now on earth the seventh evening 262 But 'tis not local prejudice that prompts 88 And thou hast walked about.......... 290 But who can paint like nature ?...... 56 And wbat is this? Survey the wondrous 131 Angels, assist to sing 18 Can I bid thee little stranger ....... 118 A nightingale that all day long 72 Cease here. Ionger to detain me ...... 246 Another day has pass'd along 264 Charity, decent, modest, easy, kind 176 A poor wayfaring Man of grief 211 Childhood, happiest stage of life...... 119 Are lbese the trees? Is this the place ? 218 Child of man, whose seed below...... 170 Are ye forever to your skies departed 186 Come down in thy profoundest gloom 232 Around Bethesda's healing wave 143 Come golden evening! In the west.. 30 Around the fire one wintry night 222 Come, my fond fluttering heart ...... 182 Art thou a thing of mortal birth 119 Contemplate when the son declines 296 As at their work two weaverg sat .... 288 Creation's heir, the first, the last...... 188 A shadow on my spirit fell .......... 254 Creator, Spirit, by whose aid ........ 166 A soul prepar'd needs no delays 255 A spirit passed before me, I beheld.. 206 DAME Charity one day was tired A voice comes from Ramah 209 Dartmoor rears in the dim distance 102 Awake my soul, lift up thine eyes.... 177 Darkness bow rose as daylight sunk.. 142 ........ .... 287 .. PAGE PAGK. 15 93 HAIL, and farewell, thou lovely guest 62 Hail! hail! reviv'd, reviving Spring.. 39 161 ........ 187 259 241 How cheerfully the unpartiall Sunne.. 178 44 How fair is the Rose! what a beautiful 61 168 147 How many thousands are wakening 258 143 How softly now the vernal gales...... 43 How still the morning of the hallow'd 263 34 How withered, perished seems the form 61 33 159 I ASK'D an aged man, a man of cares 256 ...... ........ 146 ... 249 PAGE. PAGE. 16 Loud blew the storm of night .. 177 110 9 Mild is the Behemoth, though large 80 39 292 Minutest of the feather'd kind........ 73 200 Moon of Harvest, herald mild........ 111 192 | My ear is pained, my, soul is sick 230 11 58 Muse! take the harp of prophecy 265 281 Mysterions visitant! whose beauteous 114 68 238 | Night is the time for rest ............ 260 235 Noble the mountain stream .......... 283 225 No sounds of worldly toil ascending.. 97 Not worlds on worlds in phalanx deep 59 44 153 No war, or battle's sound.......... 136 OBSCUREST night involyed the sky 229 270 Odours of spring iny sense ye charm.. 242 60 Oft have I seen, when musing........ 121 O God, whose thunder shakes the sky 178 166 71 Oh for that spirit which on Moses' lyre 197 O band of bounty largely spreact 34 .... .... 262 ........ 230 ...... 237 |