of Shakspeare ;"*-of Southey, who writes in October, 1829, "A greater poet than Wordsworth there never has been, and never will be. I could point out some of his pieces which seem to me good for nothing and not a few faulty passages, but I know of no poet in any language who has written so much that is good.”+ What could I add to such authorities as these? Finally, let me say, that I do not think any person of ordinary sensibility can attentively read this volume without being made wiser and better-without acquiring a deeper feeling of the good and beautiful in Nature— without a raising and purifying of the affections; without being made, at least in some degree, more thoughtful, more gentle, more dutiful, and more kind. [Note.-My personal friendship with the Poet commenced in 1826, and lasted till his death in 1850. The last written of the poems in this volume is of the date of 1814, and by far the greater number of them were written in the concluding three years of the last, or in the first seven years of the present century. For such particulars therefore of the circumstances under which the poems were composed, as I have very briefly stated in foot notes, I am generally indebted to the biography of the Poet by his nephew Dr. Wordsworth, of Westminster. Of that book it may be said, that if it require any excuse, it is no other than that advanced by Pascal for a letter of unusual length, namely, that "he had not time to make it shorter."] "Essay on Wordsworth's poetry"-conclusion. + Life and Letters of Southey, vol. vi. The Redbreast chasing the Butterfly Address to my Infant Daughter, Dora, on being Reminded Influence of Natural Objects in calling forth and strength- Weak is the will of Man, his judgment blind Hail, Twilight, sovereign of one peaceful hour! The Shepherd, looking eastward, softly said How sweet it is, when mother Fancy rocks Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go Even as a dragon's eye that feels the stress |