'Look, five blue eggs are gleaming there! _Few visions have I seen more fair,_ _Nor many prospects of delight_ More pleasing than that simple sight.' II. p. 53. The charm of this fine prospect, however, was, that it reminded him of another nest which his sister Emmeline and he had visited in their childhood. 'She look'd at it as if she fear'd it; Still wishing, dreading to be near it: Such heart was in her, being then A little prattler among men,' &c., &c. II. p. 54. We have then a rapturous mystical ode to the Cuckoo; in which the author, striving after force and originality, produces nothing but absurdity. 'O cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice?' II. p. 57. And then he says, that the said voice seemed to pass from hill to hill, 'about and all about!'--Afterwards he assures us, it tells him 'in the vale of visionary hours,' and calls it a darling; but still insists, that it is 'No bird; but an invisible thing, A voice,--a mystery.' II. p. 58. It is afterwards 'a hope;' and 'a love;' and, finally, 'O blessed _bird_! the earth we pace Again appears to be An unsubstantial, faery place, That is fit home for thee!' II. p. 59. After this there is an address to a butterfly, whom he invites to visit him, in these simple strains-- 'This plot of orchard-ground is ours; My trees they are, my sister's flowers; Stop here whenever you are weary.' II. p. 61. We come next to a long story of a 'Blind Highland Boy,' who lived near an arm of the sea, and had taken a most unnatural desire to venture on that perilous element. His mother did all she could to prevent him; but one morning, when the good woman was out of the way, he got into a vessel of his own, and pushed out from the shore. 'In such a vessel ne'er before Did human creature leave the shore.' II. p. 72. And then we are told, that if the sea should get rough, 'a bee-hive would be ship as safe.' 'But say, what is it?' a poetical interlocutor is made to exclaim most naturally; and here followeth the answer, upon which all the pathos and interest of the story depend. 'A HOUSEHOLD TUB, like one of those Which women use to wash their clothes!!' II. p. 72. This, it will be admitted, is carrying the matter as far as it will well go; nor is there anything,--down to the wiping of shoes, or the evisceration of chickens,--which may not be introduced in poetry, if this is tolerated. A boat is sent out and brings the boy ashore, who being tolerably frightened we suppose, promises to go to sea no more; and so the story ends. Then we have a poem, called 'the Green Linnet,' which opens with the poet's telling us; 'A whispering leaf is now my joy, And then a bird will be the _toy_ That doth my fancy _tether_.' II. p. 79. and closes thus--