TO THE WOODNYMPHS.

Ye Nymphs of the woodlands!
I come to your bowers,
Where the wild roses grow
And the eglantine flowers:
Where the trees and wild vines
In their spring-dress arrayed,
Entwine their green foliage
And weave the cool shade.
Oh! I come o'er the hills
By the moon's dewy light—
I come where the waters
Gush sparkling and bright—
Where the green woods are fresh,
And the cool valleys cheered
With the sweet mellow strains
Of the wild forest bird.
I come where the fountains
Their freshness diffuse,
And the flowers smile the sweetest,
Impearled with the dews.
In thy wild forest home,
Oh! I come to inhale
The pure balmy air
And the health-breathing gale.
Ye Nymphs of the woodlands!
Then dress your green bowers:
Bid vines spread their foliage,
And Spring wake her flowers.
Oh! bid your bright waters
Gush sparkling along,
And the wild forest bird
Charm the valleys with song;
For I come o'er the hills
To thy cool shady courts,
To quaff at thy fountains
And join in thy sports.

CRITICAL NOTICES.

MRS. SIGOURNEY—MISS GOULD—MRS. ELLET.

Zinzendorff, and other Poems. By Mrs. L. H. Sigourney, New York: Published by Leavitt, Lord & Co. 1836.

Poems—By Miss H. F. Gould, Third Edition. Boston: Hilliard, Gray & Co. 1835.

Poems; Translated and Original. By Mrs. E. F. Ellet. Philadelphia: Key and Biddle. 1835.

Mrs. Sigourney has been long known as an author. Her earliest publication was reviewed about twenty years ago, in the North American. She was then Miss Huntley. The fame which she has since acquired is extensive; and we, who so much admire her virtues and her talents, and who have so frequently expressed our admiration of both in this Journal—we, of all persons—are the least inclined to call in question the justice or the accuracy of the public opinion, by which has been adjudged to her so high a station among the literati of our land. Some things, however, we cannot pass over in silence. There are two kinds of popular reputation,—or rather there are two roads by which such reputation may be attained: and it appears to us an idiosyncrasy which distinguishes mere fame from most, or perhaps from all other human ends, that, in regarding the intrinsic value of the object, we must not fail to introduce, as a portion of our estimate, the means by which the object is acquired. To speak less abstractedly. Let us suppose two writers having a reputation apparently equal—that is to say, their names being equally in the mouths of the people—for we take this to be the most practicable test of what we choose to term apparent popular reputation. Their names then are equally in the mouths of the people. The one has written a great work—let it be either an Epic of high rank, or something which, although of seeming littleness in itself, is yet, like the Christabelle of Coleridge, entitled to be called great from its power of creating intense emotion in the minds of great men. And let us imagine that, by this single effort, the author has attained a certain quantum of reputation. We know it to be possible that another writer of very moderate powers may build up for himself, little by little, a reputation equally great—and this, too, merely by keeping continually in the eye, or by appealing continually with little things, to the ear, of that great, overgrown, and majestical gander, the critical and bibliographical rabble.