By Horace Binney Wallace.


Bless thou thy lot; thy simple strains have led
The high-born muse to be the poor man's guest,
And wafted on the wings of song, have sped
Their way to many a rude, unlettered breast.

-- Beranger.


Morris has hung the most beautiful thoughts in the world upon hinges
of [illegible]; and his songs are destined to roll over bright lips
enough to form a [sonnet? illegible]. His sentiments are simple,
honest, truthful, and familiar; his language is pure and eminently
musical, and he is prodigally full of the poetry of every-day
living.

-- Willis.




The distinction with which the name of General Morris is now
associated in a permanent connection with what is least factitious
or fugitive in American Art, is admitted and known; but the class
of young men of letters in this country, at present, can hardly
appreciate the extent to which they, and the profession to which
they belong, are indebted to his animated exertions, his varied