sight and in mind, had little or none with either the beautiful or the subtle, and did not perceive the exquisite effects which a minute use of the knowledge of both these often produces. Of the great passages of Milton he had much admiration, but could not understand such lines as

"Many a winding bout

Of linked sweetness long drawn out,”—

as what a poet calls it-" a charming embodiment of thin air and sound in something palpable, tangible, malleable; that other wondrous line of "imaginative incarnation

"Rose like a steam of rich, distill'd perfumes;"

nor

nor would he have, we fear, admired Crashaw's "Music's
Duel," which, altogether, we think, is not only his finest
effort, but accomplishes with magical ease one of the most
difficult of poetic tasks, and seems almost higher than nature.
Like an Arabian sorcerer, the soul of the poet leaps back
and forward, from the musician to the bird, entering into the
very heart, and living in the very voice of each. Let our
readers read the whole, and they will agree with us that they
have read the most deliciously-true and incredibly-sustained
piece of poetry in probably the whole compass of the language.
Just think of this; could Shakspeare have surpassed it?-
"Her supple breast thrills out

Sharp airs, and staggers in a warbling doubt
Of dallying sweetness, hovers o'er her skill,
And folds in wav'd notes with a trembling bill
The pliant series of her slipp'ry song;

Then starts she suddenly into a throng

Of short, thick sobs," &c.

We may close by strongly recommending to our readers the "Sospetto d'Herode," that fine transfusion of Crashaw'sa poem from which Milton, in his "Hymn on the Nativity," has derived a good deal; and by expressing the peculiar satisfaction with which we present the public with a handsome edition of the too little known productions of this exquisite poet.