61 
Come, we’ll abroad, and let’s obay 
The proclamation made for May: 
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying; 
But, my Corinna, come, let’s goe a Maying. 
Is not this exquisitely beautiful ? I know of nothing, on a 
similar subject, which may bear a comparison with the sweet¬ 
ness, fancy, and delicate elegance of these lines. They are 
soft and musical enough to have been breathed out in the 
chime of Lily-hells. The melody of Hen'ick’s true poetry is, 
to my mind, almost unequalled — Shelley alone rivals him ; 
and, as Shelley’s poetry is of a far loftier character, a com¬ 
parison may not well he drawn between them. 
Next to the hawthorn-bloom, the lilac and laburnum con¬ 
tribute most to the adornment of the glad earth at this festive 
season ; and right gaily do they deck her out, with their count¬ 
less clusters of amethyst and showers of gold. 
One might invent a fable, or at least improve one, and 
represent Jupiter visiting Danee in the form of a laburnum-tree 
in bloom, far more gi’acefully than in a fall of heavy clinking 
metal; though if the fair ladyes of those classic days loved 
parties and pin-money as well as modem beauties seem to do, 
methinks the celestial wooer would have sped but poorly in his 
comtship; for, verily, and indeed, Plutus is far more in request 
than the blooming Flora; and the exhibition of a diamond 
necklace in a close and heated midnight ball-room is a matter 
of higher importance, and, as they would fain persuade us, 
productive of more pleasure (though this I will not do them 
the wrong of believing) than a health-giving ramble in the 
