I live and breathe; and, in the sacred hours
Of quiet and repose, my spirit flies,
Free as the morning, o'er the realms of space,
And mounts the skies, and imps her wing for heaven."

Kirke White's poetry is popular, because it describes feelings,
passions, and associations, which all have felt, and with which
all can sympathize. It is by no means rich in metaphor, nor does
it evince great powers of imagination; but it is pathetic,
plaintive, and agreeable; and emanating directly from his own
heart, it appeals irresistibly to that of his reader. His meaning
is always clear, and the force and vigour of his expressions are
remarkable. In estimating his poetical powers, however, it should
be remembered, that nearly all his Poems were written before he
was nineteen; and that they are, in truth, but the germs of future
excellence, and ought not to be criticized as if they were the
fruits of an intellect on which time and education had bestowed
their advantages. It is, however, in his prose works, and
especially in his correspondence, that the versatility of his
talents, his acquirements, his piety, and his moral excellence
are most conspicuous.

A question arises with respect to him which, in the history of a
young Poet, is always interesting, but which Mr. Southey has not
touched. Abundance of proof exists in his writings of the
susceptibility of his heart; but it is not stated that he ever
formed an attachment. In many of his pieces he speaks with
tenderness of a female whom he calls Fanny; and in one of them,
from which it appears that she was dead, he expresses his regard
in no equivocal manner; but there are other grounds for concluding