Imatges de pÓgina
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She saw, at last,-she saw her lord indeed

Floating, and washed about, like a vile weed ;-
On which such strength of passion and dismay
Seized her, and such an impotence to stay,
That from the turret, like a stricken dove,
With Auttering arms she leaped, and joined her

drowned love.

THE FEAST OF THE POETS.

THE FEAST OF THE POETS.

To the names of the celebrated writers, whom the author, in a fit of youthful gaiety, bere undertook to seat at Apollo's table, might have been added some which have arisen of late years, both male and female, and which would have done credit to the host.

The chronology of the poem, however, with two exceptions, is the same as in former editions, containing the names of those only who were in possession of poetical repute at the time it was written. The exceptions are his beloved friends, Mr. Shelley and Mr. Keats, who have amply obtained the repute since, and whom he has indulged himself with introducing, not because any thing he can do is necessary to their fame, but because they are dead, and their fame acknowledged.

It would have been a gratification to him to extend his list; but, to confess the truth, he was unwilling to open a new ground of hostility against him, for his sins of“ omission.”

Some further remarks on this subject, if the reader wishes to see them, may be found in the preface. They would be as much out of place here, as a solemn introduction to a dance.

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