548 
—_—_— then thy mind 
Disburthen’d of its fever and thick gloom 
And all surrendered up to the strong charm 
Of Nature,” 
Bayley, 53, 54. 40. 
Compare these passages with Mr. 
Wordsworth’s “ Wye.” 
«« When the fretful stir 
Unprofitable, and the fever of the world 
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart, 
How oft in spirit have I turn’d to thee! 
Ed * * 
nor the sneers of selfish men, 
Nor reetings where no kindness is, nor al} 
The ical intercourse of daily life 
Shall e’er prevail against us. 
* * * 
to the influences 
Of shapes and sounds aud shifting clements 
Surrendering thy whole spirit.” 
Lyrical Ballads, 
An old Art of Poetry contains the 
following Short Method of making 
verses. He who desires to know how 
to make verses without their costing him 
much trouble or study, should take one 
or two or more lines from same good 
poet, which are elegant and sonorous, 
and he should repeat those over to him- 
self, and then try to make others to the 
same sound and pattern, and if the sense 
be wanting at first, or should not be quite 
so good, he must not mind that ; by doing 
this, and getting a master to tach him 
to make synalephas and contractions, 
and by knowing how to rhyme,.by the 
help of our dictionary, he will make 
himself a poet.” Upon this rule Mr. 
Peter Bayley has proceeded. His “ cere- 
monious buzz of social life,” is made to 
the pattern of ‘¢ The dreary intercourse 
of daily life,” and the whole volume is 
made up of these hyper-plagiarisms, 
where the theft is not more daring. We 
should suspect Mr. Peter Bayley to be 
an Etonian by this trick; it is the way 
they make their centos and win their 
prizes, and in consequence the schoo! 
never produces a poet. Gray is the 
great master of this craft and mystery ; 
he possessed the passion of a poet, 
and therefore always affects young and 
impassioned readers, but possessing nei- 
ther a creative fancy nor a populated 
mind, the parts of his poems are all 
composed upon this receipt. 
* We proceed with our proofs. 
} «« Not alone 
To h'm who sickens at the dizzy joys 
And s ormy raptares that the world affords.” 
ide y ; Bay.ey, 60, 
POETRY. 
«« That time is past, 
And all its aching joys are now no more, 
And all its dizzy raptures.” 
Liytiedd Ballads, i. 195. 
* 
td * 
«« And one I know, 
One gentle maid, whose mild and peaceful 
soul 
Is sway’d and temper’d by the very hand 
Of softness and complacency ;_ her heart 
True and obedient to the touch divine 
Of Nature, and alive to every thrill 
That flows from her pure influence, would 
own 
Her magic in this vale-—-Oh gentle maid !” 
Bayley, 52. 
«© A most gentle maid 
Who dwelleth in her hospitable home 
Hard by the castle, and at latest eve, 
(Even like a lady vow'd and dedicate 
‘Y'o something more than Nature in the grove) 
Giides thra’ ‘the pathways; she knows all 
their notes ; 
That gentle maid.” 
Lyrical Ballads, i. 94, 
* * > 
* 
«¢ Thou hast learned ta look 
On these things with no idle ken ; thy mind 
Has long regarded a free intercourse 
With Nature’s voice as the unfailing stay 
And guardian of thy feelings, as the rock 
The shield and anchor of thy purest joys, 
And therefore thou art happy—and thy mind 
Is stored with sweet and pleasant images, 
And made the habitation of those charms 
Which thou hast seen and felt; and after 
days, 
Shall see thee feeding on the blissful thoughts 
Which thou hast treasured in thy memory.” 
Bayley, 53, 
«© For I have learn’d 
To look on nature—— 196. 
well pleas'd to recognize 
Tn nature, andthe language of the sense, 
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, 
The euide, the guardian of my heart, and soul 
Of all my moral being. 197. ' 
and in after years ; 
When these wild eestacies shall be matur’d 
Into a sober pleasure, when thy mind 
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, 
Thy memory be as adwelling-place 
For all sweet sounds and harmonies, meee 
Lyrical Ballads, 199. 
The “ sober pleasure” has been pil- 
fered by Mr. Bayley elsewhere: p. 54. 
See ee te. Mae 
«¢ And now farewell! thou siniling vale, thou 
source 
Of calm and pleasant thought, for this one 
night bist iy 
Farewell, thou smilingvale! refresh*din heart 
And glad in spirit, with oft loitering step 
And still reverted gaze, I quit these sceneg 
