No. VIII.—THE SUNSHINE OF POETRY.
Think not the poet's song
Worthless or idle; do not deem his lay
Fantastic, that he offers by the way,
To make it seem less long.
His numbers have their use,
Though foolish they may sound to worldling's ear;
His own lot, if no other's, they may cheer;
His own content produce.
Does he not add a light