"
Who will question the true poetry of this production, or who will deny
the imperfections, (mostly of affectation, though some of tastelessness)
which obscure it? Who will wonder at our confessed wavering when they
have read this course of alternate power, occasionally extravagant, and
feebleness as in the long account of the _emeute_? Of the extravagant,
the description of the princess, on receiving the declaration of war, is
an example:--
"She read, till over brow
And cheek and bosom brake the wrathful bloom
As of some fire against a stormy cloud,
When the wild peasant rights himself, and the rick
Flames, and his anger reddens in the heavens."
The heroine, it must be acknowledged, is much of the virago throughout,
and the prince rather of the softest; but the tale could not be
otherwise told. We add four examples--two to be admired, and two to be
contemned, in the fulfilment of our critique.
"For was, and is, and will be, are but is,"
is a noble line; and the following, on the promised restoration of a
child to its mother, is very touching--
"Again she veiled her brows, and prone she sank, and so
Like tender things that being caught feign death,
Spoke not, nor stirr'd.
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