marriage have had their way, we shall
read:

"The world may think me gay, for I bow to my fate;
But thou hast been the cause of my anguish, O State!"

For even when true love is regulated by the County Council or the village
community, it will still persist in not running smooth.

Of these passions, then, Mr. Bayly could chant; but let us remember that
he could also dally with old romance, that he wrote:

"The mistletoe hung in the castle hall,
The holly branch shone on the old oak wall."

When the bride unluckily got into the ancient chest,

"It closed with a spring. And, dreadful doom,
The bride lay clasped in her living tomb,"

so that her lover "mourned for his fairy bride," and never found out her
premature casket. This was true romance as understood when Peel was
consul. Mr. Bayly was rarely political; but he commemorated the heroes
of Waterloo, our last victory worth mentioning:

"Yet mourn not for them, for in future tradition
Their fame shall abide as our tutelar star,
_To instil by example the glorious ambition_
_Of falling_, _like them_, _in a glorious war_.
Though tears may be seen in the bright eyes of beauty,
One consolation must ever remain:
Undaunted they trod in the pathway of duty,
Which led them to glory on Waterloo's plain."

Could there be a more simple Tyrtaeus? and who that reads him will not be
ambitious of falling in a glorious war? Bayly, indeed, is always simple.
He is "simple, sensuous, and passionate," and Milton asked no more from a
poet.

"A wreath of orange blossoms,
When next we met, she wore.
_The expression of her features_
_Was more thoughtful than before_."

On his own principles Wordsworth should have admired this unaffected
statement; but Wordsworth rarely praised his contemporaries, and said
that "Guy Mannering" was a respectable effort in the style of Mrs.
Radcliffe. Nor did he even extol, though it is more in his own line,

"Of what is the old man thinking,
As he leans on his oaken staff?"

My own favourite among Mr. Bayly's effusions is not a sentimental ode,
but the following gush of true natural feeling:--

"Oh, give me new faces, new faces, new faces,
I've seen those around me a fortnight and more.
Some people grow weary of things or of places,
But persons to me are a much greater bore.
I care not for features, I'm sure to discover
Some exquisite tr