his own dead." Was this then a man to be trifled with? Certainly not. Better to cram the sheets down your throat, and run the risk of suffocation from suppressed laughter, than to encounter the displeasure of a person who wears such a hat. They are always to be avoided. however, was at length restored; but all symp-considerations; for the gentleman from Cahawba, toms of repose had vanished with the delusion that | realized the description of the "determined dog," gave them birth. The poor Frenchman, however, mentioned in the comedy, who "lived next door whose slumbers had been sadly broken by the to a churchyard, killed a man a day and buried nervous man, had actually gone to sleep once more! He began to breathe hard, and, finally, to snore—and such a snore!—it was enough to have awakened the dead! There was no such thing as standing that. The equanimity of his immediate neighbor-a drowsy fellow, who, on first lying down, said he "was resolved to sleep in spite of But to return to the Frenchman. He was no thunder," was the first to give way. He sprang sooner in his resting-place, than John came to inbolt upright, hastily clapped both hands over his form him that his champaign and oysters were ears, and called out at the top of his compass, for ready. Like one in a dream, he arose, sat upon the the Frenchman to discontinue "that diabolical side of the bed, and slowly dressed himself, withand dreadful sound." Up jumped the red night-out a single murmur at his great disappointment. cap, rubbing its eyes in mute astonishment. He had hardly finished, when the steamboat bell After hearing the heavy charge against it, with sounded among the highlands, and he received the "a countenance more in sorrow than in anger," gratifying intelligence that in consequence of the and making every apology in its power for the time he had lost in dressing, he had none left to eat unintentional outrage it had committed, down his supper-and that if he did not hurry, he would it sunk once more upon the pillow, and glided be too late for the boat! At this he aroseaway into the land of Nod. But new annoyances yawned-stretched his person out at full length, awaited my poor Frenchman; for scarcely had and with the ejaculation—" I shall get some little this event happened, when the door was flung open sleeps, nevare"-bid us good night and slowly and in came a gentleman from Cahawba, with a took his leave. fierce-looking broad brimmed hat upon his pericranium, that attracted general attention, and struck would make several volumes, and we trust that, The prose writings of Col. Morris, if collected, awe and consternation to the hearts of all beholders. for the entertainment of the public and in justice He straddled himself into the middle of the floor, to his own reputation, all unambitious of authorthrust both hands into his breeches pockets, ship as he may be, he will, at no distant day pubpressed his lips firmly together, and cast his eyes lish them in this shape. The tale entitled the deliberately around the apartment, with the exMonopoly and the People's Line," and the racy pression of one who intended to insist upon his jeu d'esprit called "The Little Frenchman and his rights. "Which is number ten?" he demand-Water-Lots," are two of the prose sketches from ed, in a tone which startled all the tenants of the his pen, which are fresh in the memory of every basement story. "Ah! I perceive," continued reader. There is nothing superior for wit and he, approaching the Frenchman, and laying vio-humor, to these two tales, in the works of any lent hands upon him. "There's some mistake American writer. Their universal acceptation here. A man in my bed, hey? Well, let us see by the press on both sides of the water, speak dewhat he is made of. Look here, stranger, you're cidedly in favor of their intrinsic merit. in the wrong box! You've tumbled into my bedOur author's miscellaneous literary history, so you must shift your quarters." Who shall must be one of intense interest, associated as he has depict the Frenchman's countenance, as he slowly been, by his station, for so long a period, as editor raised his head, half-opened his drooping organs of of a leading literary periodical, with most of the vision, and took an oblique squint at the gentleman literary men of this country, and also many of from Cahawba! "You are in the wrong bed," those of England, who have, from time to time, repeated he of the hat-"number ten is my proper-visited America, all of whom have frequently ty; yonder is your's; so have the politeness just to borne testimony to his genius and worth. For hop out." The Frenchman resigned himself to his the drama and its professors, for literature and fate, and gathering his limbs together, transported those who pursue it, he has doubtless done as his lengthy person to the vacant bed, without the slightest resistance, and in eloquent silence. It was very evident to him, as well as the rest of us, that there was no withstanding the persuasions of his new acquaintance, who had a fist like a mallet, and who swore that he always carried loaded pistols in his pocket, to be ready for any emergency. The inhabitants of the basement, would have screamed outright this time, but for prudential much as any other American living; and we see that Mr. Dunlap in his "History of the Arts and Artists," has bestowed on him unqualified commendation for what he has done for the fine arts. These facts we can only allude to in passing, it being our object throughout the remainder of this article, to view Col. Morris alone as a poet. "The Deserted Bride, and other Poems," is an elegant thin octavo volume put forth by our author early the present year; and though his name has long been familiar, his songs sung from Louisiana to farther Maine, it is the first time he has come bodily before the public, in a "bounden booke." In putting this book together, he appears to have been governed more by the quality than the quantity of his pieces. His numerous poetical effusions written within the last sixteen years, doubtless would have made six such volumes as the present. Many of these fugitive pieces are beautiful, and we regret that his fastidiousness of taste should have led him to deny a place among them, to several popular songs that bear the stamp of the genuine spirit of minstrelsy, and which should have been preserved as valuable additions to this volume. We observe that nearly all that he has seen fit to sanction in the book before us, have been stamped by the public approbation. The volume contains only thirty poems; but as the poet has seen fit to found his claims, as such, altogether on these, we shall not go out of the way to look after any thing he has rejected, whatever might be its merit, but from what he has given us under his name, alone decide upon his claims to poetic rank. Although the "Deserted Bride" holds the first place in the volume, it is surpassed by four or five other pieces, in the lyrical grace and delicacy of sentiment (though not in harmony of numbers,) that are the marked features of our poet's productions. The exquisite passage in Sheridan Knowles' "Hunchback," where Julia (whose coquetish indiscretion has caused her betrothed husband Sir Thomas Clifford, to desert her,) soliloquises on his conduct, suggests the poem. "Love me? He never lov'd me! If he had, he ne'er -what have I to do with tears?" Knowles. The poem founded on this passage is too long for transcription, nor, compared with many other pieces in the volume, does it merit it. If precedence were regulated by intrinsic worth, the "Indian Poem" should have taken the lead. There are herein, nevertheless, some fine lines, and one or two entire stanzas of great beauty. We extract two verses, which are characteristic of the musical cadence that gives a peculiar charm to almost every thing from the pen of this poet. "Wrecked and wretched, lost and lonely, Crush'd by grief's oppressive weight, With a prayer for Clifford only, I resign me to my fate. Chains that bind the soul I've proven Strong as they were iron-woven. "Deep the wo that fast is sending We quote one more stanza, which has just struck us with the harmony of its numbers, the womanly and spirited tone that he has given to every line. "Titles, lands, and broad dominion, And became my willing slave! The second article, is a short poem entitled "WOMAN." It is a just, manly and deserved compliment to the sex. What a touching and beautiful thought is that when the heart turns back to departed mother or sister, and finds both to live again in the wife! "But when I look upon my wife, In mother-sisters-wife and friend!" There are some common-place expressions in the poem, but a liquid ease gives a polish even to the tritest phrases. The concluding stanzas redeem it, however, from mediocrity or tameness: "Were I the monarch of the earth, I would not estimate their worth, Dear woman! half the price of thee!" Our poet has the graceful talent necessary to the success of all lyric writers, of expressing the commonest and most familiar thoughts, in a way that shall make them touch the heart, and hang long afterward about the memory. His lines are always poetical, though exceedingly simple in their construction, and are almost always either playful or touching, and aimed at the feelings rather than the fancy. It is talents like these that constitute the lyric poet. His pen is in poetry what the harp is in music,-gentle and soothing, light and graceful, shedding a twilight over the soul, rather than dazzling it with the splendor of sunlight. "LINES, AFTER THE MANNER OF THE OLDEN-TIME," is the third article in the volume. It is an exquisite poem throughout. In justice to the poet it should either be copied here entire, or left unmutilated. We will, nevertheless, that some further idea may be formed of the style, quote a few passages. The thoughts and often the language, are of the olden time: if the antiquated orthography were also assumed, the illusion would be successful, and one might believe he was perusing a "newly-discovered manuscript poem" of Chaucer or Spenser: "Love vibrates in the wind-harp's tune, Or treads the pebbles of the sea: "And every where he welcome finds, To cottage-door, or palace-porch- With purple wings and lighted torch; "He tinkles in the shepherd's bell, And charms the village maiden's ear; For ladye-fair and cavalier. As sunbeams melt the mountain snow, And let thy target be her breast! In the third stanza above quoted, several figures are introduced, (appropriately here in imitation of an old ballad) which serve to illustrate the use of foreign images, alluded to in the commencement of this article; these are, namely, "shepherd's bell," "lattice,” and “cavalier,” (and perhaps "lady-love,") when neither are known in the United States. We are surprised to discover in the writings of one usually so accurate as our author, in the second line of the last stanza the use of the verb "feign," for the adverb "fain," which means gladly, and is the word that is wanted here. We are not given to hypercriticism, and should have passed this instance by unnoticed, were not this a very common error, among both American prose and poetic writers. the tree should stand as long as she lived. We would, if our limits permitted, here quote the exquisitely touching ballad this incident suggested. Under the title of "Woodman, Spare that Tree,” it can, however, be found in every music-store and on almost every piano in the country. No American song, we believe, has ever been received with such approbation, as this has universally met with. It has been repeatedly parodied here and in England, which is one of the strongest tests of unequivocal popularity. On this delightful little lyric, and two or three others, will Col. Morris's reputation as a lyric poet principally rest. "Rosabel," is next in order, after the "Oak." It is a graceful production, but neither remarkable for originality or that concentration of thought and conciseness of expression, which lyrics call for. There is repetition and "profuseness of wordiness" in it, a tissue of pleasing numbers, gratifying the ear, but seldom interesting the feelings. We quote what we consider the best stanza. It is marked with that sweetness of versification which never deserts the poet, which smoothness, though desirable in odes and ballads, where strength and energy of expression are misplaced, in sterner themes it must be exceedingly difficult for the author to divest himself of, that he may give the necessary vigor to the subject. "I miss thee every where, beloved, And leave me in despair. The banquet-hall, the play, the ball, * * A sad and weary lot is mine, To love and be forgot, A sad and weary lot." In the last stanza, which is the last one of the poem, the second and fourth lines should change places, to give force and finish to the whole; thus: "A sad and weary lot, beloved, To love and be forgot." The next article in the book, is the popular song entitled "THE OAK." It was suggested by a touching incident, which the poet relates in the "notes," which form entertaining and humorous addenda to the volume. A friend of the writer returned in after life to visit his paternal abode, Instances of this inattention to sounding his now passed into stranger hands. It was shaded by an aged" roof-tree," under which he had played verses, are, however, rare in this author; and in childhood. Just as he came in sight of it, the from their infrequency strike us more forcibly when they do occur. An ode "ON THE DEATH owner was sharpening his axe, preparatory to cutOF GENERAL DELEVAN," is martial and spirited ting it down. Why do you do this?" he gasped. "I am getting old, the woods are far off, and the and highly creditable to the head and heart of the tree is of some value to me to burn." "What is poet. As a poem, its unity and purity are desit worth for fire wood?" "About ten dollars." troyed by the introduction of the name of the "If I give you that, will you let it stand?" deceased—always, in such cases, brought in with "Yes." "Then give me a bond to that effect." very questionable taste. Consequently, the two concluding lines, The paper was drawn up, it was witnessed by his daughter, the money was paid, and he left the place with an assurance from the young girl,"who looked as smiling and beautiful as a Hebe," that are the two weakest in the poem. Willis has Thy epitaph, oh Delevan! God's noblest work-an honest man! avoided this in his noble ode on the burial of his For touching pathos, gentle versification, deliclassmate, "Arnold," and thereby made univer- [cacy and purity of fancy, this little lyrical gem is sal the thoughts which otherwise must have borne not surpassed by any thing on the other side of the a limited and inferior signification. Atlantic: even by the divine Moore himself. This is one of the greenest leaves in our poet's garland. The next poem is one that vies in popularity with "The Oak," while it equals it in harmony of numbers and elegance of diction. In a note the The "ANNIVERSARY HYMN," (Fourth of poet says, "those who have heard the exquisite July,) is a bolder effusion than we have yet met manner in which Miss Horton renders Mr. Horn's with in the volume. Its ease and spirit will be adaptation of this plaintive and touching air, scarce-shown by the concluding stanza, as well as afford ly recognise a far famed negro melody, with an exhibition of the poet's powers in a different vein which the hills, vallies and streams of the west than his wont-for it is of " the boy-god, Love,” have been vocal these many years." We trans- and " 'lovely woman," he most delights to discribe this song entire, while we present our thanks course-twenty out of the thirty pieces in the voto the poet for clothing, in such graceful drapery, lume, having love and ladies for their theme--a so sweet an air. We believe it was Mr. Wesley theme which has enlisted the most gifted geniuses who sagaciously adapted religious words to the since Apollo first made the groves vocal with his licentious airs of his time, and introduced them lyre, and which, through his Laura, gave Petrarch into his church, in lieu of the lugubrious melodies an immortality to which otherwise his name could that had descended from the sad visaged round-never have descended. We quote the last stanza heads, saying that "If he could help it, the Devil of the hymn which suggested these remarks: should not have all the best tunes in the kingdom." To Col. Morris we would say, let not the African minstrel monopolize the sweetest, simplest, and most touching airs that are extant: this which you have rescued, is but one of many that cheer the boatman, as he rows his laden barge beneath the southern moon-the ploughman, as he treads his furrow-the woodman, as he wields his axe—each making water, field, and forest, vocal with wild and touching melody. "A SOUTHERN REFRAIN. "Near the lake where droop'd the willow, Long time ago! Where the rock threw back the billow, Brighter than snow; Dwelt a maid, beloved and cherish'd, By high and low; But, with autumn's leaf she perish'd, "Rock and tree and flowing water, Bee and bird and blossom taught her While to my fond words she listen'd, Tenderly her dove-eyes glisten'd "Mingled were our hearts for ever! Can I now forget her?-Never!— To her grave these tears are given, She's the star I miss'd from Heaven, "Heirs of an immortal sire, Where your altars stand! Hail with pride and loud hurrahs, Symbol of our land!" "LINES FOR MUSIC," are very musical lines, but contain no very striking passages that would bear us out in an extract. It is too long for a song and is wanting in that closeness of thought and a certain concise vigor, without impairing its grace, necessary in the lyric, in which a new change should be rung on every line. Here a chord is boldly struck at the outset of a stanza, which is made up of its subsequent vibrations that die faintly away in the last line. "STARLIGHT RECOLLECTIONS," contain several of the light and graceful passages that characterize our poet : "Your love on my heart gently fell A blessing to give and receive." It has been wedded to the most delicious harmony by Charles E. Horn. "RHYME AND REASON," is an apologue, in which philosophy and fancy are combined in delightful verse. It reminds us of Collins, and is not unworthy of any body. The story is that Rhyme and Reason were twin-boys, and grew up together playmates. By and by "the boys Left their native soil- Soon Rhyme was starving in a ditch, While Reason grew exceeding rich. "Since that dark and fatal hour, When the brothers parted, Reason has had wealth and powerRhyme's poor and broken-hearted! And now, or bright or stormy weather, They twain are seldom seen together!" "Wearies my Love of Letters," "When other Friends are round Thee," "My Mountain Bride," and "Silent Grief," are the titles of well known "The husband's anger rose!-and red And white his face alternate grew! The fragments of an "INDIAN POEM," exhibit our poet's trying his muse in a new field. Some the full vigor of many lines is lessened by a lyrical of the passages are vigorous and highly poetic, but will quote the second stanza: songs, set to music by Horn. They are all cha-polish which has become habitual to his pen. We racterised by the lyrical ease of the poet. That commencing "When other friends are round thee," is fully equal to any thing from his pen. Bessy Bell," "Love Thee, Dearest!" (set to music by Horn, and sent to a friend on the day of his marriage,) "The Day is now Dawning, Love," are all neatly turned songs. The versification and syllabic flow of the latter is remarkably harmonious. "THE MINIATURE," is in the best vein of the poet. The epigrammatic turn, with which it closes, is one of the neatest in the language, and is only equalled by the grace and skill with which the thought is executed. This little piece has travelled all over Europe, and been translated into the Spanish, French, German, and Italian languages. It was supposed to be the production of Moore, until claimed by the author. "THE MINIATURE. "William was holding in his hand The likeness of his wife- He gazed upon the treasure still, "This picture is yourself, dear Jane, 'Tis drawn to nature true: I've kissed it o'er and o'er again, It is so much like you.' 'And has it kissed you back, my dear?' "Why-no-my love,' said he. 'Then, William, it is very clear, 'Tis not at all LIKE ME!'" "THE RETORT," is in the same vein. We quote it to show the versatility of the author's powers: "THE RETORT. "Old Nick, who taught the village school, He was as stubborn as a mule, And she was playful as a rabbit. "Poor Jane had scarce become a wife, And prim and formal as a quaker. And simple Jenny sadly miss'd him; She slyly stole and fondly kiss'd him! "See their glittering files advancing, Pennon proud and gaudy plume: To meet a warrior's doom?" "LINES TO A POET," are good, and marked for the smoothness of its verse. It was originally addressed to Prosper M. Wetmore, and (which goes to illustrate what we have before said in reference to the introduction of sir-names into a poem,) began, "Prosper Montgomery Wetmore! The poet himself has borne testimony to the equivocal taste of this, by rejecting, in his later edition of the poem, the first two lines, and substituting the following: "How sweet the cadence of thy lyre! What melody of words! They strike a pulse within the heart The last stanza is very fine: "Then blessings on thee, minstrel—* A playful sonnet, a humorous tragi-comic effusion, entitled "The Dismissed," which is sufficiently expressive of its character, and a graceful song, beginning, "What can it Mean?" close the lyrical portion of the volume. We give the first and last stanza of this: "I'm much too young to marry, For I'm only seventeen; Why think I then of Harry? What can it mean-what can it mean? *Originally written "Wetmore," for "minstrel.” |