Does Mr Wordsworth really imagine that this is at all more natural or
engaging than the ditties of our common song writers?

A little farther on we have another original piece, entitled, 'The
Redbreast and the Butterfly,' of which our readers will probably be
contented with the first stanza.

'Art thou the bird whom man loves best,
The pious bird with the scarlet breast,
Our little English Robin;
The bird that comes about our doors
When autumn winds are sobbing?
Art thou the Peter of Norway Boors?
Their Thomas in Finland,
And Russia far inland?
The bird, whom _by some name or other_
All men who know thee call their brother,
The darling of children and men?
Could Father Adam open his eyes,
And see this sight beneath the skies,
He'd wish to close them again.' I. 16.

This, it must be confessed, is 'Silly Sooth' in good earnest. The three
last [_sic_] lines seem to be downright raving.

By and by, we have a piece of namby-pamby 'to the Small Celandine,'
which we should almost have taken for a professed imitation of one of Mr
Philip's prettyisms. Here is a page of it.