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Hard by,
Stood serene Cupids watching silently.
One, kneeling to a lyre, touch'd the strings,
Muffling to death the pathos with his wings;
And, ever and anon, uprose to look
At the youth's slumber; while another took
A willow-bough, distilling odorous dew,
And shook it on his hair; another flew
In through the woven roof, and Auttering-wise

Rain'd violets upon his sleeping eyes.' pp. 72, 73.
There is another and more classical sketch of Cybele.
• Forth from a rugged arch, in the dusk below,
Came mother Cybele! alone-alone
In sombre chariot ; dark foldings thrown
About her majesty, and front death-pale,
With turrets crown'd. Four maned lions hale
The sluggish wheels ; solemn their toothed maws,
Their surly eyes brow-hidden, heavy paws
Uplifted drowsily, and nervy tails
Cowering their tawny brushes. Silent sails
This shadowy queen athwart, and faints away

In another gloomy arch.' p. 83. In the midst of all these spectacles, he has, we do not very well know how, a ravishing interview with his unknown goddess; and, when she melts away from him, he finds himself in á vast grotto, where he overhears the courtship of Alpheus and Arethusa, and, as they elope together, discovers that the grotto has disappeared, and that he is at the bottom of the sea, under the transparent arches of its naked waters. The following is abundantly extravagant; but comes of no ignoble lineage, nor shames its high descent.

"Far had he roam'd,
With nothing save the hollow vast, that foam’d
Above, around, and at his feet ; save things
More dead than Morpheus' imaginings :
Old rusted anchors, helmets, breast-plates large
Of gone sea warriors ; brazen beaks and targe;
Rudders that for a hundred years had lost
The sway of human hand; gold vase emboss'd
With long-forgotten story, and wherein
No reveller had ever dipp'd a chin
But those of Saturn's vintage ; mouldering scrolls,
Writ in the tongue of heaven, by those souls
Who first were on the earth ; and sculptures rude
In ponderous stone, developing the mood
Of ancient Nox ;-then skeletons of man,
Of beast, behemoth, and leviathan,

And elephant, and eagle, and huge jaw

Of nameless monster.' p. 111. There he finds antient Glaucus enchanted by Circehears his wild story—and goes with him to the deliverance and restoration of thousands of drowned lovers, whose bodies were piled and stowed away in a large submarine palace. When this feat is happily performed, he finds himself again on dry ground, with woods and waters around him; and cannot help falling desperately in love with a beautiful damsel whom he finds there pining for some such consolations, and who tells a long story of her having come from India in the train of Bacchus, and having strayed away from him into that forest :-so they vow eternal fidelity, and are wafted up to heaven on flying horses, on which they sleep and dream among the stars;—and then the lady melts away, and he is again alone upon the earth; but soon rejoins his Indian love, and agrees to give up his goddess, and live only for her: But she refuses, and says she is resolved to devote herself to the service of Diana; and when she goes to dedicate herself, she turns out to be the goddess in a new shape, and exalts her lover with her to a blest immortality.

We have left ourselves room to say but little of the second volume, which is of a more miscellaneous character. Lamia is a Greek antique story, in the measure and taste of Endymion. Isabella is a paraphrase of the same tale of Boccacio, which Mr Cornwall has also imitated under the title of 'a Sicilian Story.' It would be worth while to compare the two imitations; but we have no longer time for such a task. Mr K. has followed his original more closely, and has given a deep pathos to several of his stanzas. The widowed bride's discovery of the murdered body is very strikingly given. • Soon she turn'd up a soiled glove, whereon

Her silk had play'd in purple phantasies,
She kiss'd it with a lip more chill than stone,

And put it in her bosom, where it dries.
Then 'gan she work again; nor stay'd her care,
But to throw back at times her veiling hair.
That old nurse stood beside her wondering,

Until her heart felt pity to the core
At sight of such a dismal labouring,

And so she kneeled, with her locks all hoar,
And put her lean hands to the horrid thing :

Three hours they labour'd at this travail sore;
At last they felt the kernel of the grave, &c.
In anxious secrecy they took it home,

And then the prize was all for Isabel :
She calm'd its wild hair with a golden comb,
And all around each eye's sepulchral cell

Pointed each fringed lash; the smeared loam

With tears, as chilly as a dripping well,
She drench'd away :--and still she comb’d, and kept
Sighing all day—and still she kiss'd, and wept.
Then in a silken scarf,—sweet with the dews

Of precious flowers pluck'd in Arabv,
And divine liquids coine with odorous ooze

Through the coid serpent-pipe refreshfully,
She wrapp'd it up ; and for its tomb did choose

A garden-pot, wherein she laid it by,
And cover'd it with mould, and o'er it set

Sweet Basil, which her tears kept ever wet.' pp. 72–75. The following lines from an ode to a Nightingale, are equally distinguished for harmony and feeling. • O for a beaker full of the warm South,

Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,

And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,

And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget

What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret

Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow

And leaden-eyed despairs.
The voice I hear this passing night was heard

In ancient days by emperor and clown :
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;

The same that oft-times hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam

Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.' p. 108–111. We must close our extracts with the following lively lines to

Fancy.

• () sweet Fancy! let her loose ;

Summer's joys are spoilt by use,
And the enjoying of the Spring
Fades as does its blossoming;
Autumn's red-lipp'd fruitage too,
blushing through the mist and dew,
Cíoys with tasting : What do then ?
Sit thee by the ingle, when
The sear faggot blazes bright,
Spirit of a winter's night ;

When the soundless earth is muffled,
And the caked snow is shuffled
From the ploughboy's heavy shoon;
When the Night doth meet the Noon
In a dark conspiracy
To banish Even from her sky.

Thou shalt hear
Distant harvest. carols clear ;
Rustle of the reaped corn;
Sweet birds antheming the morn: j
And, in the same moment-hark !
'Tis the early April lark,
Or the rooks, with busy caw,
Foraging for sticks and straw.
Thou shalt, at one glance, behold
The daisy and the marigold;
White-plum'd lilies, and the first
Hedge-grown primrose that hath burst;
Shaded hyacinth, alway
Sapphire queen of the mid-May ;
And every leaf, and every flower
Pearled with the self-same shower.
Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep
Meagre from its celled sleep ;
And the snake all winter thin
Cast on sunny bank its skin ;
Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see ;.
Hatching in the hawthorn-tree,
When the hen-bird's wing doth rest
Quiet on her mossy nest;
Then the hurry and alarm
When the bee-hive casts its swarm ;
Acorns ripe down-pattering,

While the autumn breezes sing,' pp. 122–125. There is a fragment of a projected Epic, entitled • Hyperion,' on the expulsion of Saturn and the Titanian deities by Jupiter and his younger adherents, of which we cannot advise the completion: For, though there are passages of some torce and grandeur, it is sufficiently obvious, from the specimen before us, that the subject is too far removed from all the sources of human interest, to be successfully treated by any modern author. Mr Keats has unquestionably a very beautiful imagination, and a great familiarity with the finest diction of English poetry; but he must learn not to misuse or misapply these advantages; and neither to waste the good gifts of nature and study on intractable themes, nor to luxuriate too recklessly as such as are more suitable.

Art. XI. Essay on the Evils of Popular Ignorance. By

John FOSTER. 8vo. pp. 317. London, Holdsworth, 1820.

The subject upon which we are now about to enter, has al

ways appeared to us not only to be in itself of the greatest and most permanent importance of any which we have ever considered, but as that upon which it is most essential that right notions should be entertained by every class of the community. The question is as to the best practical means of Promoting the Education of the body of the People in other words of improving, and in many cases, we might say, creating, the religious, the moral, and intellectual character of the nation. To this it is manifest that every other improvement is necessarily and intrinsically subordinate. Our individual enjoyments and our national prosperity-our freedom and our loyaltyour peace and our plenty-our comforts and our renown-all obviously depend upon the rank which we may be enabled to hold as rational and moral beings; and our eternal as well as our temporal concerns must be mainly affected, in so far as human means are concerned, by the tenor of our early instructions. We most earnestly entreat all our readers, therefore, to favour us with their patient attention, in the exposition we are now to make; and seriously to consider, whether an opportunity has not now arisen, of conferring a greater practical benefit on the country than was ever in its choice before, and whether any man can be excused for withholding his countenance and support from the plans that have now been so nearly matured for that purpose.

The great difficulty arose, as was foreseen from the begin. ning, from the mutual jealousy of the Established Church and the Dissenters; and our apprehensions of misconduct were certainly long directed towards the former. Its chiefs, however, have ultimately made the most liberal concessions; and the Legislature is ready to sanction a scheme, to which we sincerely think no reasonable objection can now be stated. Some of the Dissenters, however, are understood not to be satisfied; and it is from them only that any serious opposition to the scheme is now to be apprehended. We shall consider their objections by and by ;-but, in the outset, we may be permitted to claim for ourselves the credit that is due to the unvarying, fearless, and zealous advocates of religious independence, and entire freedom of conscience and of worship. The members of our own National Establishment are Dissenters from the Church of England; and, in this very controyersy on the subject of education, in all its stages,

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