wooded like the romantic Pyrenees, nor luxuriantly fertile in fruits,
flowers, and grain, like the terrible, but sylvan Etna.

M.L.B.

* * * * *




OLD POETS

* * * * *


DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN.


["A Lover of Old English Poetry," has, in the last _London Magazine_,
a short paper on DRUMMOND of HAWTHORNDEN, a name dear to every
poetical mind, and every lover of early song. His intention, he says,
is "rather to excite than satiate" the taste of his readers for the
poetry of Drummond,--an object in which we cordially agree, and would
contribute our offering, had not the task, in the present instance,
been already so ably performed. We cannot, therefore, do better than
introduce to our readers a few of his judicious selections. They are
exquisite specimens of the evergreen freshness of old poetry, and by
their contrast with contemporary effusions will contribute to the
mosaic of our sheet. By the way, we hear of a sprinkling of the
antique world of letters in some of the "Annuals"--an introduction