Poems. By Robert Leighton. (Howell, Liverpool.) We cordially man's experience
cannot fail to be interesting. Mr. Leighton is a man Who with the bliss of others pines awaie. who has not read many books, but has reflected deeply on life and all And what declares, her eating vipers brood ? its phenomena. He is not free from the fault of saying what has been That poisoned thoughts be ever more her food. said before, but we quite believe that he has thought it out for himself, " What mamas her eies, so bleared, Bore, and redd ? and that all his sentiments are his own. His mode of life, it appears, Her mourninge still to see an others gain. has not been favourable for the cultivation of the poetic gift he ne And what is-mental by snakes upon her head ? doubt possesses, but he has made the most of his opportunities, and in
The fruit that springes of such a venomed brains. his "records and musings" he expresses in unexceptionable verse the. But, whie her harts shee rentes within her breast?
It shewes her selfe doth work her own unrest." results of profound meditation. He has, moreover, a keen appreciation
of nature and a sympathy with her inner life, and his descriptive pieces.
condensation, and naturalness " than the following:— he is writing about, and not, after.the _fashion of veraifiera, merely col-
" The other held a_ snake with -.maim fraught, looted and recollected all the pretty things that have been said by other- On which she fed and gnawed hungrily, people. The volume is far above the average of the poetry of the