3.

The White Doe of Rylstone, or the Fate of the Nortons, a Poem, by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 4to. pp. 162. Long

man. 1815.

In these works the author employs the simple and the heroic styles; but his merit consists in the former. A portion of the first article was published some years ago under the title of "Lyrical Ballads ;" and many of the other miscellaneous pieces have appeared at subsequent periods. The present edition is "enlarged and diversified," and contains,

1st. Poems referring to the period of Childhood: an embellishment to one of which ("Lucy Gray") is the frontispiece to the first volume.-The author's simplicity of manner and style renders him happy in some of these little pieces. We are pleased with the lines addressed "to a Butterfly"—" Alice Fell”— "The Idle Shepherd Boys," and "The Blind Highland Boy." We meet, however, with some lines, which, by the introduction of unmeaning particles, are rendered very heavy and insipid,

"His mother, too, no doubt, above

Her other children, him did love."

p. 49.

Among these pieces we find an "Address to a Child," and the "Mother's Return,"-written by a female friend of the author's, the latter of which only is entitled to any praise.

"

2nd. Juvenile Pieces. These chiefly consist of extracts from works published in 1793 and 1798. "The Female Vagrant is interesting, but by placing a dash after the word wept, instead of the word end, in the following stanza, the effect which the author intended to produce is destroyed.

66

She ceased and weeping turned away,

As if because her tale was at an end

She wept ;-because she had no more to say

Of that perpetual weight which on her spirit lay." p. 90. 3rd. Poems founded on the Affections. These commence with a dialogue, in familiar blank verse, between a priest and a youth, in which the latter is informed that his brother is dead. Wé term it familiar verse, as it is destitute of every thing dignified indeed we can see no difference between the following lines and common prose-nay, the very commonest of prose.

"Of this they took no heed, but one of them
Going by chance, at night, into the house
Which at that time was James's home, there learned
That nobody had seen him all that day:

The morning came and still he was unheard of."

p. 111.

Except the "Complaint of a Forsaken Indian Woman," the rest of these poems might very well have been classed with the author's childish and juvenile pieces.

4th. Poems of the Fancy. These trifles (for trifles we must call them) serve, in the words of the author, for "a pretty baby-treat," and nothing else.

5th. Poems of the Imagination. Fancy and imagination are, by lexicographers, improperly considered as synonimous terms. Mr. Wordsworth tells us that the former is of a light, and the latter of a serious nature. One of these poems (which has no title, but might have been called Lucy or the Darling,) has more of the character of Shenstone's productions than any of the rest. The following are the first and last verses:

"Three years she grew in sun and shower,

Then Nature said, 'a lovelier flower

On earth was never seen;

This Child I to myself will take,
She shall be mine, and I will make
A lady of my own.'.

Thus Nature spake the work was done-
How soon my Lucy's race was run!
She died and left to me

This heath, this calm and quiet scene;
The memory of what has been,

And never more will be."

p. 313-5.

The Poems of Imagination are continued in Vol. 2. and succeeded by,

6th. Poems proceeding from Sentiment and Reflection. These are commendable chiefly for their morality; but they might with equal propriety have been placed with those of the Imagination.

7th. Miscellaneous Sonnets. 8th. Sonnets dedicated to Liberty. 9th. A Second Part of Sonnets dedicated to Liberty A sonnet should be harmonious, as a compensation for its brevity. In some of these we meet with discordant sounds, and lines composed entirely of monosyllables:

"Wisdom doth live with children round her knees:
Books, leisure, perfect freedom and the talk

Man holds with week-day man in the hourly walk,
By which true Sway DOTH mount; this is the stalk

True Power DOTH grow on, and her rights are these." p. 202. The succeeding poems are-10. On the Names of Places.11. Inscriptions-12. Referring to the period of Old Age.13. Epitaphs and Elegiac Poems-And 14. An Ode. These

trifles are in general moral and inoffensive. The Elegiac Stanzas, p. 337, were "suggested by a picture of Peele castle in a storm, painted by Sir George Beaumont;" to which the frontispiece of the second volume refers, but of which no mention is made, either in the engraving or in the contents of the work. The ode contains "Intimations of Immortality from recollections of early childhood."

The author, in his New preface, tells us the powers requisite for the production of poetry, are, " 1. Those of Observation and Description." "2. Sensibility."" 3. Reflection." " 4. Imagi nation and Fancy." " 5. Invention,"-which most people understand by Imagination.-" And lastly, Judgment." Many are endowed in a greater or less degree with all these qualifications, and yet are no poets. Taste-especially a taste for what is beautiful and sublime, and truly dignified in nature and art, is requisite to a good poet.

In the essay supplementary to the preface, the author takes a retrospect of the poetical literature of this country during the greater part of the last two centuries, for the purpose of proving the small number of real judges of poetry. Shakspeare and Milton, we are told, had a paucity of readers. Pope "bewitched the nation by his melody, and dazzled it by his polished style, and was himself blinded by his own success." Thomson's "Seasons," the author acknowledges, were universally and justly admired. The number of judges consequently encreased; and where is the wonder if we compare the population and mental improvement of the different periods? After mentioning the names of Dryden, Warton, Collins, Dr. Percy, &c., but omitting those of Prior, Young, Churchill, Goldsmith, &c., Mr. Wordsworth infers-" That every author, as far as he is great, and at the same time original, has had the task of creating the taste by which he is to be enjoyed." This is hyperbolical reasoning. Civilization creates taste and discernment of worth; and literary merit will always find admirers in an enlightened nation.

In the old preface, which is given at the end of the second volume, Mr. Wordsworth contends that the language of a large portion of every good poem should be strictly the language of prose, when prose is well written. "The truth of this assertion," he adds, "might be demonstrated by innumerable passages from almost all the poetical writings, even of Milton himself." He then quotes one of Gray's sonnets as an example, and tells us, that except in the rhyme, the language is the same as that of prose. Why not have quoted himself since

every page of his writings abounds with apt examples of prosaic verse? But besides rhyme and metre, other qualities are necessary to good poetry-such as artificial arrangement, appropriate epithets, striking metaphors, harmonious cadence, &c.

The Excursion now demands consideration. It is written in blank verse, a species of English composition which is in imitation of the hexameter verse of the Romans, and which like it admits of much transposition, elision, &c. Though it is not, like the hexameter, composed of spondees and dactyls, it is, in many instances, equally majestic. Milton's grandeur is remarkable, and he frequently makes the sound an echo to the sense. This is doubtless the proper English metre for an epic or heroic poem. It may be said that Thomson's poem of the "Seasons" is disjointed; but it embraces one year, and the vicissitudes of that year are so painted, that no want of connection appears. The "Night Thoughts" of Young demanded the dignity of blank verse: and Mr. Wordsworth has judged it necessary to his Excursion. But notwithstanding the melancholy subjects which the Excursion contains, readers in general would probably have been better pleased had he contented himself with rhyme, and an humbler species of composition. The Excursion, though a bulky quarto, is announced in the title page as only a portion of a poem, and the preface states that it belongs to a second part of a laborious work. The first not having been completed to the author's satisfaction, the second division has been published (as usual), at the earnest entreaties of some valued friends" its interest not depending, in any great degree, on the preceding part." The want of connection is therefore candidly acknowledged; and as a kind of prospectus of the whole poem, a passage is given in the preface, from the conclusion of the first book of the "Recluse," not yet published.

The "Excursion," which is dedicated in a neat sonnet to the Earl of Lonsdale, is divided into nine books; and the first person introduced to the reader's notice is the author himself! He reaches a ruined cottage on a common, during a summer forenoon, and there meets the wanderer, whom he had known from his childhood, and after whom the first book is called. While resting under the shade of the trees that surrounded the ruined cottage, the wanderer gives an account of its last inhabitants. Margaret, deserted by her husband who had joined a troop of soldiers, had told her "piteous tale" to the wanderer, "with many tears." Having left her for awhile he returns, and is informed by a stranger, "that she was used to ramble far."

She is described as "tender and deep in her excess of love,” yet during her absence

"From within

Her solitary infant cried aloud,

Then, like a blast that dies away self-stilled,

The voice was silent.".

She returns when the cottage clock strikes eight, and tells the wanderer

"That she had parted with her elder child

To a kind master on a distant farm,

Now happily apprenticed."

She confesses that by her occasional rambles she has done herself and helpless infant much wrong. The neglected babe at length dies, and the mother is left alone. A final parting takes place between her and the wanderer.-We meet with no striking beauties in this book, no energetic thoughts: on the contrary, it abounds with egotism, and unnecessary tautologies. For instance:

"From his sixth year, the boy of whom I speak,
In Summer, tended cattle on the hills." p. 9.
"From early childhood, even, as hath been said,
From his sixth year, he had been sent abroad
In summer, to tend herds." p. 13.

Harsh words are introduced for no reason:

"The countenance of the man

Was hidden from my view."

p. 5.

Countenance makes a very inharmonious dissyllable, and is properly used afterwards as a trisyllable. Visage would have been better. Many of the lines have a very flat, prosaic, puerile tendency. They really are not poetry.

"These favored beings,

All but a scattered few, live out their time
Husbanding that which they possess within,
And go to the grave unthought of. Strongest minds
Are often those of whom the noisy world

Said Margaret to me, here, beneath these trees,

Made my heart bleed."" p. 31.

Some parts of this book may, however, be justly admired. We

select the following: