Poetry is a most lovely damsel; chaste,
modest, and discreet; spirited, but yet retiring, and ever holding
itself within the strictest rule of honor. She is the friend of
Solitude. She finds in the fountains her delight, in the fields her
counsellor, in the trees and flowers enjoyment and repose; and
lastly, she charms and instructs all that approach her."
_The Dream of a Day, and other Poems_.
By JAMES G. PERCIVAL.
New Haven. 1843.
Mr. Percival printed his last book of poems sixteen years ago,
and every school-boy learned to declaim his "Bunker Hill," since
which time, he informs us, his studies have been for the most part
very adverse to poetic inspirations. Yet here we have specimens of
no less than one hundred and fifty different forms of stanza. Such
thorough workmanship in the poetical art is without example or
approach in this country, and deserves all honor. We have imitations
of four of the leading classes of ancient measures, -- the Dactylic,
Iambic, Anapestic, and Trochaic, to say nothing of rarer measures,
now never known out of colleges.
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