["A Lover of Old English Poetry," has, in the last _London Magazine_,
a short paper on DRUMMOND of HAWTHORNDEN, a name dear to every
poetical mind, and every lover of early song. His intention, he says,
is "rather to excite than satiate" the taste of his readers for the
poetry of Drummond,--an object in which we cordially agree, and would
contribute our offering, had not the task, in the present instance,
been already so ably performed. We cannot, therefore, do better than
introduce to our readers a few of his judicious selections. They are
exquisite specimens of the evergreen freshness of old poetry, and by
their contrast with contemporary effusions will contribute to the
mosaic of our sheet. By the way, we hear of a sprinkling of the
antique world of letters in some of the "Annuals"--an introduction
which reflects high credit on the taste of the editors, and serves
to prove that sicklied sentimentalities, like all other sweets, when
enjoyed to excess, will cloy the fancy, but not so as entirely to
unfit the mind for a higher species of intellectual enjoyment. We
would have _old and new alternate_ in the literary wreath, lest, by
losing the comparison, the "bright lights" of other times should be
treated with irreverence and neglect.]