The people laugh, and the peers they stare
For they never had thought to have seen him there.
I guess ’twas curious there to see
A baron so oddly clad as he,
Ludicrous exceedingly.
——:o:——
Sonnets on the Coronation.
By a Lyrist from the Lakes.
(William Wordsworth.)
[Our Lyrist of the Lakes must be figured as an “old man eloquent” in all that can interest and elevate our nature. He should be somewhat tall, and somewhat drooping, with a head that scarcely seems to know that there is a halo round it, an expression of quiet dignity and simplicity of character, an unaffected familiarity of demeanour, and a suit of brown, properly fitted for one whose studies are sometimes of the same complexion. The white doe, the “solitary doe” of Rylstone, might be playing in the back-ground, and it would not be amiss to have a glimpse of the other solitary and immortal quadruped, that Peter Bell encountered in the forest.]