The volumes before us are by the author of Lyrical Ballads, a
collection which has not undeservedly met with a considerable share
of public applause. The characteristics of Mr. W.'s muse are simple
and flowing, though occasionally inharmonious verse, strong, and
sometimes irresistible appeals to the feelings, with unexceptionable
sentiments. Though the present work may not equal his former efforts,
many of the poems possess a native elegance, natural and unaffected,
totally devoid of the tinsel embellishments and abstract hyperboles
of several contemporary sonneteers. The last sonnet in the first
volume, p. 152., is perhaps the best, without any novelty in the
sentiments, which we hope are common to every Briton at the present
crisis; the force and expression is that of a genuine poet, feeling
as he writes:--

"Another year! another deadly blow!
Another mighty empire overthrown!
And we are left, or shall be left, alone--
The last that dares to struggle with the foe.
'Tis well!--from this day forward we shall know
That in ourselves our safety must be sought,
That by our own right-hands it must be wrought;
That we must stand unprop'd, or be laid low.
O dastard! whom such foretaste doth not cheer!
We shall exult, if they who rule the land
Be men who hold its many blessings dear,
Wise, upright, valiant, not a venal band,
Who are to judge of danger which they fear,
And honour which they do not understand."