"Al dolce tempo il bon pastore informa Lasciar le mandre, ove nel verno giacque: E 'l lieto gregge, che ballando in torma, Torna all'alte montagne, alle fresche acque. L'agnel, trottando pur la materna orma Segue; ed alcun, che pur or ora nacque L' amorevol pastore in braccio porta: Il fido cane a tutti fa la scorta." "Sweet Spring returns; the shepherd from the fold Brings forth his flock, nor dreads the wintry cold; Delighted once again their steps to lead To the green hill, clear spring, and flow'ry mead. True to their mother's track the sportive young Trip light. The careful hind slow moves along, Pleased in his arms the new-dropt lamb to bear: His dog, a faithful guard, brings up the rear." 'In the same poem is a description of the golden age, in which the author seems to have exerted all his powers, in selecting such images as are supposed to have been peculiar to that happy state of life.' Mr. R., with great propriety, places the essence of poetic diction,--not of poesy itself, for that consists in invention,--in representing its object in motion, to impress us with it's variety of action and attitudes; in short, in following _time_, avoiding a minute anatomy of motionless surfaces, to which words, it's vehicle, are totally inadequate. Surface can only be distinctly discriminated by line and colour. Hence it is evident that poetry cannot in this respect be either put in comparison with, or be elevated above painting; the province of their expression, and effect, must be for ever separate, though they perfectly coincide in their aim, which is to charm and convince the senses. Thus, when poetry attempts to describe an object, it must confine itself to one, or a very few words, in whatever merely relates to the shape or surface of that object, and it's more profuse description is _only then_ in it's place, when that object begins to move. Such is the rule of Nature and of Homer, from which no ancient or modern poet has deviated with impunity; and _Ariosto_, who has described the shape, figure, and colour of Alcina, in five stanzas, has laboured as much in vain to acquaint us with the ingredients of his witch-beauty, as _Constantinus Manasses_ to give us a clear idea of Helen by his agglomeration of epithets, or as Haller of the Genziana, by a description of nineteen lines. The images which Mr. R. adduces from Lorenzo confirm this; they attain their effect merely by hastening from the body of the object to it's motion. Not the most expressive words of the most expressive language ever given to man, arranged by Homer or Milton, or a power still superior to their's, could produce a sensation equal to that which