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"If there is one who need bemoan
We turn from this strain of pure musical pathos,
"Bringing the tears to the dim eyes,"
to another fine burst of natural sorrow; more sorrowful, inasmuch as Byron mixed up less natural objects than Wordsworth in his laments.
"There have been tears, and breaking hearts for thee,
An English poet has touched upon the same subject; as another illustration of the subject we quote it. We cannot here avoid remarking, that a very interesting volume might be made of selections from the works of the most eminent poets containing the expression of parallel feelings.
"ON A WITHERED FLOWER.
"Oh, wondrous power of thought,
Full on my mind one pleasant day in spring.
Once more the wind's sweet breath
Wakes from its silent death,
"I feel a bright form stand,
One of the seraph band,
Once more his little feet
With my long steps compete,
"And now a mist of light
Grows stronger in my sight,
Features I deemed had gone
Once more I gaze upon,
In subjects partaking of a more artificial nature our poet is more at home, and there we can award him high praise. There is a spirit in the following worthy Herrick, we had almost said Anacreon.
"THE HUMBLE BEE.
"Burly, dozing, humble bee,
Zigzag steerer, desert cheerer,
"Insect lover of the sun,
Of Syrian peace, immortal leisure,
"Aught unsavory, or unclean,
"Wiser far than human seer,
This quotation, somewhat too long for our plan, we really had not the heart to shorten. It is a fine collection of images, admirably strung together, appealing too much certainly to the fancy; but, nevertheless, this will always be considered a gem of delightful composition.
We must now turn from Mr. Emerson's poetry to his prose, if we may use such a word, for the peculiarity of his mind is almost always to be poetical. Many of his critics contend that his finest thoughts are in his essays, and that the tone of his mind is essentially rhapsodical. If we concede this, we must bargain for our definition of a rhapsody. Many persons class Pindar's odes in that category, but Coleridge and others have declared that they only appear so to feeble and illogical minds. It is granted that the links of connexion from thought to thonght are at longer intervals, just as giants take greater strides than dwarfs, but the sequence is as regular as the pace of a tortoise. It is very usual to hear common-place men accuse loftier intellects of being flighty and disconnected; but it would be as absurd for the snail to charge the race-horse with irregularity in its steps, because its bounds are too wide for its microscropic vision. The connecting relations are also so subtle, in many arguments, that the gross-sighted mass of readers cannot see them; and, under the blinding influence of their defective vision, they deny the existence of the chain.
We remember Coleridge once illustrated this very happily by the first Olympiad, and established the point to the satisfaction of several distinguished critics.
When another accuses a man of being unintelligible, it generally only means that he does not understand him. So far from being a reproach to the poet, it is a confession of ignorance on the part of the critic. Were it not so,