It came to my heart—like the first gleam of morning, To one who has watched through a long, dreary night— It flew to my heart—without prelude or warning— And wakened at once there a wordless delight. That sweet pleading mouth, and those eyes of deep azure, That gazed into mine so imploringly sad, How faint o’er them floated the light of that pleasure, Like sunshine o’er flowers, that the night-mist has clad! Until that golden moment, her soft, fairy features Had seemed like a suffering seraph’s to me— A stray child of Heaven’s, amid earth’s coarser creatures, Looking back for her lost home, that still she could see! But now, in that first smile, resigning the vision, The soul of my loved one replies to mine own: Thank God for that moment of sweet recognition, That over my heart like the Morning light shone! * * * * * REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS. _The Prose Writers of America. With a Survey of the History, Condition, and Prospects of American Literature. By Rufus Wilmot Griswold. Illustrated with Portraits from Original Pictures. Phila.: Carey & Hart. 1 vol. 8vo._ This is more able than any of Mr. Griswold’s preceding books. It contains biographical and critical notices of seventy American prose writers, with judiciously selected extracts from their various writings. These notices display an unusually extensive acquaintance with American literature, conscientiousness in forming opinions, and boldness in stating them—and they are written in a flowing and vigorous style. A large portion of the information they convey, respecting our literary men, can be found in no other place. The most carefully written of the biographies are those of Edwards, Franklin, Hamilton, Webster, Irving, Cooper, Prescott, Wayland, Brownson, Hooker, Emerson, Willis, and Dana. The defect in the book, as regards American writers, is the omission of some ten or twelve who could present good claims to admittance. Toward the end the editor seems to have been cut short in his selections by the growing size of his work. In his critical estimates Mr. Griswold is independent and decided. We have noticed but one or two cases where his personal feelings have at all intruded to exalt the objects of his criticism. There is no doubt that the book is honest—and this is saying a great deal, when we reflect how many inducements the editor of such a work has to gratify his amiabilities or resentments.