of this literary phenomenon, we will at once bring together the following notices of writers of the kind we have undertaken to describe, without pretending (from the nature of the case an almost impossible thing) to produce all who deserve mention. On the contrary, we can promise to quote only a few, as we write from memory, and without the means of extending our list.

To commence with two court poets of the age of Charles II., when "the mob of gentlemen who write with ease" first appeared. Denham, the fashionable poet of his day, now ranks as such in the select collections, mainly on the strength of his Cooper's Hill. Dorset, one of the most delightful and accomplished characters of that court of wits and gallants, is best known in poetical history by his ballad, said to have been written at sea during the first Dutch war, 1665, the night before the engagement. He has penned a couple of delightful songs or so, but his poetical claims rest chiefly on the ballad. Pomfret's "Choice" stands quite alone; the single popular poem of its author, an agreeable, pleasant piece of versification, presenting the ideal of a quiet, comfortable, retired literary life. Swift's version of Horace's lines is more Horatian, but less English. Cowley and Norris, who both translated the philosophic picture of Seneca, of a similar strain, are more philosophic and high toned, but do not approach so closely the more equal current of daily life. Leigh Hunt has praised Pomfret, and somewhere, we think, directly imitated " Choice," adding to the verse a grace of his own. Dr. Johnson passed upon him no more than a just eulogium. To the masculine moralist and the agreeable essayist we bow, in deference to their united judgment. John Phillips is famous for his

celebrated burlesque of Milton (the "Splendid Shilling"), but we can recollect no other poem of his of anything like equal merit. Parnell's Hermit is his chef-d'œuvre. Many who know him as a poet, know nothing of his verses to his wife, and one or two other short pieces, almost equally fine. Blair's "Grave" (the resting place of Mortality) has made him immortal. Green's "Spleen," and Dyer's "Grongar Hill," poems excellent in their different styles of manly satire and picturesque description, are, we believe, the only works of these authors that have escaped oblivion. As writers of single poems, we may, by a forced construction, "compel to come in" certain of the old Dramatists, and though they do not properly rank under this head, we may be glad to eke out our list by such delights of the Muses as the noble Dirge in Webster's terrible tragedy, Shirley's fine stanzas, and scattered songs, "fancies," and goodnights, that occur in the rare old comedies and tragedies: from Gammer Gurton's Needle, that can boast the first and one of the best drinking songs in the language, down to, and half through, the age of Elizabeth, the age of Marlow and his contemporaries, just previous to the golden era of the Shaksperean drama. Many of the minor poets, whether gay or religious, of the seventeenth century, have left sparkling gems, such as the delicate flowers that blossom in the poetic gardens of Carew, Herrick, King, Vaughan, Lovelace, &c. We had written thus far, when we met with Longfellow's Waif, a delicate and tasteful anthology. But we think it might be vastly improved by such an editor as the writer of the article on Henry Vaughan,* who out of that poet has made extracts, finer than the poem

* Arcturus, vol. i.

Mr. Longfellow has selected, and has written about this poet and his contemporaries in a charming manner, that would have added much to the attraction of the little volume. The Waif" should have included a galaxy of rare old poems: the later writers are sufficiently well known.

"

Certain of the noble old prose writers, to be ranked, by the production of one fine poem-if by no other claim― by title of courtesy, among poets, ought not to be omitted, as Bunyan, in the pithy, sententious lines prefixed to his "Pilgrim ;" Burton's fine versified abstract of his own "Anatomy;" and Walton's "Angler's Wish." These are "rarely delicate," as Walton says of Marlow and Raleigh's delicious verses, "better than the strong lines now in vogue in this critical age."

In one department of verse, that of Hymns and the versified Psalms of David, some writers are classic from having produced one or two admirable pieces of the kind; in this class come Addison, Pope, Young, Ken, Cowper, Heber, Wotton.

Many writers, of very considerable pretensions, have succeeded in one long poem, but are not generally known by any second production of equal value. Of this class the best instances are Young, in his "Night Thoughts"hard reading, except in detached passages; Akenside's "Pleasures of Imagination" (with all his pomp of philosophic speculation and elaborate fancy, very heavy, for these very reasons). All the Pleasures, by the way, of Memory and Hope, beside, in these long general poems, are far from pleasant reading; Churchill, whose local and temporary satires are forgotten and give place to his "Rosciad," a monument of his sense, acuteness, and happy

66

satire a gallery of theatrical portraits hit off with the justness and vivacity of Pope, and forming a capital supplement to Colley Cibber's collection; Allan Ramsay's "Gentle Shepherd," that Arcadian pastoral; Garth, in his Dispensary," an author in whom the man and humorist was more than a match for the poet; Somerville's "Chase," pretty fair verse for a sporting country gentleman; and Armstrong's "Art of Preserving Health," a sensible essay that might as well have been written in prose. The same criticism may be applied to Garth and Somerville.

Among general readers the Hudibras of Butler is eagerly perused by all who delight in the union of sense, wit, and learning, all devoted to the cause and end of wholesome satire; yet the other sharp satires of the same writer are, virtually, unknown. And the Seasons of Thomson, by no means his best poem, is universally read, while very few ever think of glancing at the delightful "Castle of Indolence," of which he was both creator and master.

Then again, certain fine poems are continually quoted, not as the sole efforts, but as the masterpieces of their authors, quite to the exclusion of any other works of theirs; the selection, for instance, of such fine poems as the Ode to the Passions, and the Elegy in a Country Churchyard, in works on elocution, with which every schoolboy is familiar, has thrown the other equally fine pieces by the same authors, comparatively into the shade. Shenstone's Schoolmistress comes within the same category; but after all, the fame of the poet depends on it alone. The ballad of Jemmy Dawson is not superior to many that have been consigned to obscurity; while the Pastoral Ballad, with a certain vein of tenderness, does not rank much above

Hammond's strain (once called the English Ovid), which has been long since, and not unjustly, forgotten.

A delicate volume might be made up of single poems of English and American poets of this century. In English poetical literature, Mrs. Southey's Pauper's Death-Bed, Noel's Pauper's Funeral, delicate verses of Darley, Montgomery's Grave, &c., &c.

Our American Parnassus entertains many occupants, who can prefer but a single claim (or two) for possession. The following are all of the gems we can, at present, recall. The famous song of R. T. Paine, entitled Adams and Liberty, though its poetical value we forget, was the best paid copy of verses ever printed here, and exceedingly popular the spirited "Indian Burial Ground," of Frenpeau, which Longfellow has lately recovered, and whence Campbell borrowed a line or two (a common trick with him): Coke's Florence Vane, Neal's Birth of a Poet, Wilde's My Life is like a Summer's Rose, Pierpont's affecting lines on his dead child, Lindley Murray's charming verses to his wife, Pinckney's spirited and truly poetical songs, Aldrich's Death Bed, Field's Dirge on a young girl, Woodworth's Old Oaken Bucket, Eastman's Farmer, &c. But our best fugitive pbetry has been written by prose writers. Irving's delicious lines, the Dull Lecture, illustrating, or illustrated by (we know not which), a capital picture of Stuart Newton; and his classic verses to the Passaic River, as graceful and picturesque as that winding stream. C. C. Moore has in a choice volume, arnong other delicate verses, included three classic poems sufficient to secure a place for their author on the same shelf with Gray, Campbell, and Logan: the capital humorous visit of St. Nicholas-with the verses to the Poet's