An article, having the above title, appeared in the _New Monthly Magazine_, July, 1831. It referred to the forthcoming coronation of King William IV. and Queen Adelaide, which took place on September 8, 1831. The scraps of poetry were supposed to proceed from the pens of Sir Walter Scott, Thomas Campbell, S. T. Coleridge, W. Wordsworth, L.E.L. (Miss Landon), the Rev. G. Crabbe, Thomas Moore, Thomas Hood, and Robert Southey, then Poet Laureate. As the imitations of Scott and Campbell lead the way, the article may as well be inserted here. The little introductory notices alluding to Moore’s well-known love of a Lord, Southey’s objection to write the official odes hitherto expected from the Poet Laureate, &c., sufficiently indicate the authors referred to. Some of the imitations are not very striking, and those on Crabbe and L.E.L. might perhaps have been omitted as possessing little to interest the modern reader. However, the whole of the poetry is given, the comments only having been slightly shortened. THE LAY OF THE LOST MINSTREL. (_Sir Walter Scott._) [A tall “stalwart figure,” with a good-humoured Scotch face, a sturdy-looking stick, and a style of dress indicative of something between the farmer and the philosopher, should be represented seated upon a pile of novels, marked “fiftieth edition,” writing, with a pen in each hand two volumes at once of a new work――at the same time dictating a third to an amanuensis at his elbow.] Long years have pass’d, since lyre of mine Awoke the short and easy line That now unbidden flows; Tell, Constable, tell thou, how long My steps have shunned the halls of Song, And sent, for sundry reasons strong, My pages, an uncounted throng, To bear the train of Prose! But now my harp anew is strung; And eager grows my tuneful tongue, Like panting steed that paws the earth, To burst and tell its tale of mirth. And visions float, like those that danced Before my eyes, when George the Fourth, Be-tartaned o’er, erewhile advanced With knightly train, and quite entranced The fondly-frantic North. Again I see such glittering show, Again such pageants gleam and go, As well might form the golden theme Of minstrel-song or morning-dream.