The people praise; These so-called "good old times" have flown, The minstrel's" occupation's gone," We're better, wiser, greater grown In latter days. E'en long ere Anglo-Saxon times Did fame acquire; Ere Hesiod or Homer sung, The poet's lyre. When persecution first did drain On wings of prayer. E'en ere the Royal Psalmist's day, If earlier ages you survey, I'm traced even there. There many imitators were, From early days who fain would share To suit their aim. King Alfred as a minstrel lone; Dickens from "Boz" has famous grown; And Scott was called "The Great Unknown" The name I claim. But Anon. Letters I disclaim, Written by those who 'neath my name, They raise my ire; AN EPISTLE TO THE EDITOR. They from the line of duty swerve, Except the fire! I hear this question asked of you,— Why keep "unknown to public view ?" I court not fame, it is secure, Though many products may be poor, I know the worthy will endure, The good will live. Obscurity I did not choose Lest, peradventure, "Scotch Reviews I'm unassuming, you're aware; Nor critics fear. 'Tis wise this policy of mine, Details of self to self confine, For pilgrims would flock to my shrine, For idolising reverence; And I've no crave When 'tis a place of no pretence, Admirers save. Since all details are hid from view (I dare not tell them e'en to you) I'd ask that you my works look through, All of me you need wish to find, You will discern. I fancy when your work is o'er, Would volumes make; My fertile mind 'twill serve to show, And 9 10 AN EPISTLE TO THE EDITOR. Are stamped "Anon." Pray take not my remarks amiss, 66 Our Anon. friend." Enough, I need not more rehearse, From end to end. If asked that you my rank assign On Fame's proud scroll; And with becoming modesty Wind up the Roll! Sacred. Pity religion has so seldom found, A skilful guide into poetic ground, The flowers would spring where'er she deigned to stray. How beautiful is genius when combin'd With holiness! oh, how divinely sweet COWPER. The tones of earthly harp, whose chords are touch'd WILSON'S Isle of Palms. Ir is no trifling good to win the ear of children with verses which foster in them the seeds of humanity and tenderness and piety; awaken their fancy, and exercise pleasurably and wholesomely their imaginative and meditative powers. It is no trifling benefit to provide a ready mirror for the young, in which they may see their own best feelings reflected, and wherein "whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are lovely," are presented to them in the most attractive form. It is no trifling benefit to send abroad strains which may assist in preparing the heart for its trials, and in supporting it under them.-SOUTHEY. THE poetry of devotion is the rarest of all poetry. It is sad to think how few, of all the poets in the English language, have possessed or exhibited the Christian character, or had the remembrance of their names associated with the thoughts of Christ and His Cross, or the feelings to which the great theme of redemption gives rise in the bosom of a Christian. We may find plenty of the sentimentality of religion, expressed too in beautiful language, but as cold as a winter night's frost-work on our windows. A few beloved volumes, indeed, have their place in the heart, but they are few; and of these the praise belongs not exclusively to the genius of poetry, but to a far more precious and elevated spirit-the spirit of the Bible. What bosom, that possesses this, does not contain the germ of deep poetry? What poet has experienced its influence, whose song did not breathe an echo of the melodies of paradise? In the true minstrelsy of devotion, there is a higher excellence than that of mere genius. Poetry herself acknow 12 SPIRIT OF GOD, THAT MOVED OF OLD. ledges a power which is not in her, and observes a deep and sublime emotion excited which she cannot, unassisted, produce or maintain in the souls of her listeners. When she becomes the handmaid of piety, she finds herself adorned and enriched (in another sense than Virgil's) with a beauty and a wealth that are not her own— 66 Miraturque noros fructus, et non sua poma." SACRED HARP. THE glowing language and harmonious numbers of poetry exert a powerful influence over the human mind, both in elevating the thoughts and warming the feelings. This power can never be so legitimately employed as in contributing to the purposes of religion, the paramount importance of which demands that every endeavour should be bestowed to recommend it to the understanding and the heart. Convinced of this truth, and encouraged by the example of the inspired poets of the Old Testament and by the injunction of the Apostle Paul, to teach and admonish one another in psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs, many eminent Christians in modern times have exercised their talents in composing hymns in honour of the great events recorded in Holy Writ, or in giving a poetical dress to some of the remarkable passages with which it abounds, and thereby adapting them for storing the memory with sublime and holy thoughts, or for forming a part in the hallowed praises of the sanctuary.-Rev. H. STEBBING. SPIRIT OF GOD, THAT MOVED OF OLD. SPIRIT of God, that moved of old Come, when our faithless hearts are cold, Thou that art Power and Peace combined, Come, give us still thy powerful aid, Nor let us quench Thy sevenfold light; |