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———Not a breath Disturbed the tide of eloquence. So fixed Were that rude auditory, it would seem Almost as if a nation had become Bronzed into statues. Now and then a sigh, The unbidden messenger of thought profound, Parted the lip; or some barbarian brow Contracted closer in a haughty frown, As scowled the cynic, 'mid his idol fanes, When on Mars-Hill the inspired Apostle preached Jesus of Nazareth. |
These lines are glowing all over with the true radiance of poetry. The image in italics is perfect. Of the versification, it is not too much to say that it reminds us of Miltonic power. The slight roughness in the line commencing "When on Mars-Hill," and the discord introduced at the word "inspired," evince an ear attuned to the delicacies of melody, and form an appropriate introduction to the sonorous and emphatic closing—Jesus of Nazareth.
Of the minor poems in the volume before us, we must be pardoned for speaking in a cursory manner. Of course they include many degrees of excellence. Their beauties and their faults are, generally, the beauties and the faults of Zinzendorff. We will particularize a few of each.
On page 67, in a poem entitled Female Education, occur the following lines:
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——Break Oblivion's sleep, And toil with florist's art To plant the scenes of virtue deep In childhood's fruitful heart! To thee the babe is given, Fair from its glorious Sire; Go—nurse it for the King of Heaven, And He will pay the hire. |
The conclusion of this is bathetic to a degree bordering upon the grotesque.
At page 160 is an error in metre—of course an oversight. We point it out merely because, did we write ourselves, we should like to be treated in a similar manner. For 'centred' we should probably read 'concentred.'
| The wealth of every age Thou hast centered here, The ancient tome, the classic page, The wit, the poet, and the sage, All at thy nod appear. |
At page 233, line 10, the expression "Thou wert their friend," although many precedents may be found to justify it—is nevertheless not English. The same error occurs frequently in the volume.
The poem entitled The Pholas, at page 105, has the following introductory prose sentence: "It is a fact familiar to Conchologists, that the genus Pholas possesses the property of phosphorescence. It has been asserted that this may be restored, even when the animal is in a dried state, by the application of water, but is extinguished by the least quantity of brandy." This odd fact in Natural History is precisely what Cowley would have seized with avidity for the purpose of preaching therefrom a poetical homily on Temperance. But that Mrs. Sigourney should have thought herself justifiable in using it for such purpose, is what we cannot understand. What business has her good taste with so palpable and so ludicrous a conceit? Let us now turn to a more pleasing task.