Of his miscellaneous poetry I cannot say anything very favourable.
The powers of Congreve seem to desert him when he leaves the stage,
as Antaeus was no longer strong than when he could touch the ground.
It cannot be observed without wonder, that a mind so vigorous and
fertile in dramatic compositions should on any other occasion
discover nothing but impotence and poverty. He has in these little
pieces neither elevation of fancy, selection of language, nor skill
in versification: yet, if I were required to select from the whole
mass of English poetry the most poetical paragraph, I know not what
I could prefer to an exclamation in the "Mourning Bride":-


ALMERIA.

It was a fancied noise; for all is hushed.

LEONORA.

It bore the accent of a human voice.

ALMERIA.

It was thy fear, or else some transient wind
Whistling through hollows of this vaulted isle:
We'll listen -

LEONORA.

Hark!