full of disdain of the world and joy in Nature,[3] longings for death
and lamentations over sin; he delighted in personifications of
abstract ideas, childish playing with words and feelings, and
sentimental enthusiasm. But mawkish and canting as he was apt to be,
he often shewed a fine appreciation of detail. He was even--a rare
thing then--fascinated by the sea.

Now rages and roars the wild, wild sea,
Now in soft curves lies quietly;
Sweetly the light of the sun's bright glow
Mirrors itself in the water below.

Sad winter's past--the stork is here,
Birds are singing and nests appear;
Bowery homes steal into the day,
Flow'rets present their full array;
Like little snakes and woods about,
The streams go wandering in and out.

His motives, like his diminutives, are constantly recurring. He uses
many bold and poetic personifications; the sun 'combs her golden
hair,' the moon is a good shepherd who leads his sheep the stars
across the blue heath, blowing upon a soft pipe; the sun adorns
herself in spring with a crown and a girdle of roses, fills her
quiver with arrows, and sends her horses to gallop for miles across
the smooth sky; the wind flies about, stopping for breath from time
to time; shakes its wings and withdraws into its house when it is
tired; the brook of Cedron sits, leaning on a bucket in a hollow,
combing his bulrush hair, his shoulders covered by grass and water;
he sings a cradle song to his little brooks, or drives them before