The Sun.
London, England, 1867-03-13 00:00:00

ie. r^.-

The sailor, from his drowning bark,
Sent up his dying prayer ;
I looked amid the ruthless storm,
And God was there.

I trod a silent wilderness,
A desert, pathless wild,
Where verdure grow not by the streams,
Where beauty never smiled.
I gazed upon the leafless scene,
The muirland lone and bare,
And awe upon my spirit crept,
For God was there.
And so on—among all the varied scenes of human
life—among the bridal maidens at a wedding, or
by the side of the youug mother lamenting over
her dead infant, when—

I saw her kiss its fair, pale face,
And smooth its yellow hair,
And 0, I loved the mourner's grief—
For God was there.

From among_ living Poets, again, we miss with
regret all mention of William Alliugham. And yet
there is no one, we feel perfectly certain of this,
who would more heartily admire than Dr. Mackay
himself the young Irish Poet's ballad of " Marl
Donnelly," of whom, when she is dancing, he sings--

" . . . . her steps were so complete
The music nearly killed itself to listen to her feet."
And in celebration of whose beauty of face and
singing, we read—
" The fiddler cursed his blindness to hear her so much
praised,
But blessed himself he wasn't deaf when once her YO/C0
she raised."

And so forth. Better, to our fancy than Sydney
Dobell's " Tommy's Dead," would have been his
matchless little war song of the French Soldier,

beginning—

"O a gallant sans peur,
Is the merry chasseur,
With his fanfaron horn, and his rifle ping-pang ;
And his grand havresack
Of gold, on his back,
And his pistol crick, crack,
And his sword cling, clang."
As commemorative of poor Robert Brough (a few
years back so prematurely deceased) who would not
have welcomed here his dainty little ditty (originally
published in Household TVords) about " Neighbour
Nelly ?" And so on—and so on—the carping list of
omissions or of preferences might be extended
indifferently, according to the especial whimsies
or predilections of each individual, taking
up in turn, and dipping into, and scrutinising the
contents of this beautiful volume. Comment upon
those contents, however—for exactly such as they
are—in the way of mere carping, we would here at
once distinctly and absolutely repudiate. The
suggestions which have been thrown out by us in
the foregoing observations have been thus thrown
out, in the first instance, simply as attestations that
the welcome accorded by us to this charming
volume
is that of no merely unthinking or inconsiderate
infatuation ; and in the next place, because in the
prospect, or rather, we would say, with the inevi-
table certainty before such a book as this, of Its
running through very many editions, we cling to
the hope that some among our missing favourites
may yet, happily, through Dr. Mackay's kindly re-
consideration of their claims, come to be even-
tually interpolated. Otherwise, than in this
kindlier spirit, to comment upon the labouar
of love which has manifestly been expende
upon the filling up of this Casket of Gems by one
who is himself at once a true Poet, a true Critic'
would have about it an aspect of ungracious-
ness but little short of pragmatical impertinence'
Not one is there among the living Poets of Esgi
land, Ireland, Scotland, and America but must fee,
proud to find his name enrolled among the radian'
catalogue of great names making up the bulk of the
list of those contributing to this exquisite volume•
To cavil seriously over any deficiency whatever
observable anywhere in its contents would bring
down upon any one so cavilling, one might reason;
ably enough conjecture, an echo of the Archbishop
sardonically benevolent wish in Gil Blas—beaucouP
de bonheur et un peu plus de bon gogt I Without a
qualm, for such precisely as it is; we can and do ac-
cept it very cordially not the archbishop's wish, be
it understood, but Dr. Mackay's_new book of theo
" Thousand and One Gems of English Poetry.
Purchaseable for a preposterously small amouutt
the book is certain of—what it deserves—au
mense circulation. And no wonder, for it is the
gathering together in one pocket volume of the
gems of our whole poetic literature.

• .5.., -
fT,At
'
(bra rt

HER MAJESTY, &c•

WINDSOR CASTLE, March 12.
The Queen and Princess Louise drove out yester-
day afternoon.
Her Majesty walked and drove this morning, ac
companied by Princess Christian.
Prince Leopold went out walking, attended 11
Mr. Sahl.
The Queen, accompanied by Princess Louise, Wel3t
to London this afternoon, and visited the Prince
and Princess of Wales at Marlborough-house.