utely a pleonasm, a
great awkwardness: 'a ray fell' or 'shot' may be said, and a sun or a
moon or a candle shone, but not a ray. I much regret that I did not
receive these verses while you were here, that I might have given you,
_viva voce_, a comment upon them, which would be tedious by letter, and
after all very imperfect. If I have the pleasure of seeing you again, I
will beg permission to dissect these verses, or any other you may be
inclined to show me; but I am certain that without conference with me,
or any benefit drawn from my practice in metrical composition, your own
high powers of mind will lead you to the main conclusions.

You will be brought to acknowledge that the logical faculty has
infinitely more to do with poetry than the young and the inexperienced,
whether writer or critic, ever dreams of. Indeed, as the materials upon
which that faculty is exorcised in poetry are so subtle, so plastic, so
complex, the application of it requires an adroitness which can proceed
from nothing but practice, a discernment which emotion is so far from
bestowing that at first it is ever in the way of it. Here I must stop:
only let me advert to two lines:

'But shall despondence therefore _blench_ my _brow_,
Or pining sorrow sickly ardor o'er.'

These are two of the worst lines in mere expression. 'Blench' is perhaps
miswritten for 'blanch;' if not, I don't understand the word. _Blench_
signifies to flinch. If 'blanch' be the word, the next ought to be
'_hair_.' You cannot here use _brow_ for the _hair_ upon it, because a
white brow or forehead is a beautiful characteristic of youth. 'Sickly
ardor o'er' was at first reading to me unintelligible. I took 'sickly'
to be an adjective joined with 'ardor,' whereas you mean it as a portion
of a verb, from Shakspeare, 'Sicklied o'er with the pale cast of
thought.' But the separation of the parts or decomposition of the word,
as here done, is not to be endured.

Let me now come to your sister's verses, for which I thank you. They are
surprisingly vigorous for a female pen, but occasionally too rugged, and
especially for such a subject; they have also the same faults in
expression as your own, but not, I think, in quite an equal degree. Much
is to be hoped from feelings so strong, and from a mind thus disposed. I
should have entered into particulars with these also, had I seen you
after they came into my hands. Your sister is, no doubt, aware that in
her poem she has tro