VERSES. 75 



" the untuned heart-string" 



What is that? 



Kirke White says that time 



" startled on his watch, in the vast deep 

 Chaos' sluggish sentry and evoked 

 From the dark void the smiling universe." 



I never knew that the globe of the earth could laugh, 

 although I am not ignorant that men and hyenas have 

 the faculty of risibility what can possibly be meant 

 by Chaos' sluggish sentry ? 



These, my dear Mr. Editor, are a few sample bricks 

 of the houses that those respectable lunatics the poets 

 build, and they are proofs of my definition that " Poe- 

 try is a series of serious or humourous lies told in a 

 pleasing way." I do not wish to encroach too much 

 on your pages, but if occasion require it, and I fail to 

 prove that the whole of their edifices are similarly con- 

 structed, then you may tell all your friends that I am 

 not THEOBALD. 



Exrnoor. 



VERSES. 



Like a wizard draught that flings, 

 Round the senses o'er the brain, 



Forms of dear and lovely things 

 That we seek to grasp in vain. 



Like a vision of the night 



That some guardian seraph wove 

 In a moment of delight 



Is the first fond dream of love. 



But the brightest hope is gone, 



And the sweetest joy no more, 

 When that radiant dream hath flown 



When that rare delirium's o'er. 



Like a feebly struggling bark, 



On a wide and wayless sea, 

 Wakes the spirit to life's dark 



Dominion of reality. 



FRANZ. 



