ture of her unhappy condition, that there should have been so few grammatical inaccuracies and defects of rhyme that needed to be amended.—The reader will readily perceive that poetical writings must require, much more frequently than prose compositions, the proper exercise of this discretion. We oftentimes meet with excellent ideas (particularly in reading the old, quaint prose writers) embodied in a rude and repulsive style, and very readily pardon the language to the sense. But it is not so with poetry. One of the principal pleasures, which poetry, as such, distinguished from poetical thoughts in prose, affords us, is in the structure and harmony of its versification. When this is careless, imperfect, and discordant, the ear is at once offended; and good taste may thus mislead the judgment to an unfair estimate of the real powers of an author.
Unpolished diamonds, or as pearls unstrung,
Large, generous thoughts, in phrase obscure confined.
Are buried deep, and lost to all mankind."
To those who are in the habit of hastily running the eye over a few pages of a work, and of casting it aside if the first impression be unfavorable, we would point out any one of the following pieces,—"The Heart's Desire," "The Happy Birds," "On the Return of Spring," "Lines on a Minister of the Gospel," "Ode to the Poppy," "Midnight," "The Twin Sisters," "An Apostrophe to Thought," "Woman's Sympathy," "Lines on Reading the Poems of * * * *," "The Happiness of Early Years," "Distress," "Despair," "To her Father, supposed to be Dying,"—as well adapted to attract their attention, and to secure their interest and good opinion.
