O, Henry, you have changed From that true Henry who, in bygone days, Rode, with the hurry of a northern gale, Towards Hever’s heights, and ere the park was gained, Made the glad air a messenger of love, By many a blast upon your hunting-horn. Have you forgotten that old oaken room, Fearful with portraits of my buried race, Where I received you panting from your horse; As breathless, from my dumb excess of joy, As you with hasty travel? Do you think Of our sweet meetings ’neath the gloomy yews Of Sopewell nunnery, when the happy day That made me yours seemed lingering as it came, More slowly moving as it nearer drew? How you chid time, and vowed the hoary knave Might mark each second of his horologe With dying groans, from those you cherished most, So he would hasten?— KING HENRY. Anne, that was you. Have you forgotten my ear-stunning laugh At your quaint figure of time’s human clock, Whose every beat a soul’s flight registered? QUEEN ANNE. God bless you, Henry! (_Embraces him._) KING HENRY. Pshaw! why touch so deep? These softening memories of our early love Come o’er me like my childhood. QUEEN ANNE. Love be praised, That with such reflections couples me! Be steadfast, Henry. KING HENRY. Fear not: love is poor That seals not compacts with the stamp of faith. QUEEN ANNE. My stay is trespass. We will meet anon. Love needs no counsel in his little realm. “Anne Boleyn” is not only a fine dramatic poem, considered in respect to character and situations, but it is as interesting as a novel, and continually excites those emotions which exact attention, even in the least cultivated reader. Taken in connection with the author’s previous work, it evinces not only genius, but a genius which grows. The perusal of it has strongly impressed us with the feeling that the country, in him, has a new poet, and one whose present productions are even richer in promise than performance. We cordially wish him an appreciating public, and trust that he will not lack stimulants to renewed exertion. * * * * * _Saint Leger, or the Threads of Life. Second Edition. New York: Geo. P. Putnam. 1 vol. 12mo._