The Pioneer and woman's advocate. (Providence, R.I.) 1852-185?, 1852-06-05

It's easy Tor peasant poor,
To speak from unreplenished store,
From intellect contracted, small,
Secluded in its prison Sall,
His thoughts and views a. he may see
A thing as right, or wrong to be,
Concerning state, he'd tell you soon,
Though he were not great Calhoun,
What best to do, what leave undone;
Yet, still, perhaps, we're he his son,
What he should say would sink with weight,
Az noble views, respecting State,
'Mong those who listened while he spake,
And why.-why for his fathers sake.
Nov y, very clear and plain TO see
That all his views expressed so free,
Farther from right, than wrong would be.
Thus ssequently, it is the case,
We leave our proper sphere and place
And strive ano.her's place to I'll
Yet peasant, is but peasant still.
A School boy thus, Just give him time,
May write his lines and make them rhyme,
But il poetic FIRE he need,
His metres will be tame indeed. e
AuOu6u tuouSub uS WtoPt tu hCuCu uuCI
Though skill and fancy both combine
To charm the ear with measured sound,
Yet il the soul be not there found,-
II goddess Muse grant not her aid,
Such poetry's stale indeed.
Now what is poetry, let's ask
In what consists the poets task7
For he alone who's sick, well knows
The blessings perfect health bestows.
So he who needs poetic skill
With thought, as we'll as words. to ill
His measured verse and to display
Ia graphic mode, in co'ors gay,
The scenes presented to his mind,
Cannot poetic genius fnd,
On this account, may well portray
Who poet is,-what poetry.
A poet, then, If we the word derive
From foreign tongue, long dead, but once alive,
Whose written form, a monumental pile
Sill stands in prose, in hexametric style,
For millions now, for millions yet unborn,
Where learning's light and science shall adorn
The intellect of man, by nature rude,
To praise, admire, and read with rapturous
mood.
Means he who makes, inven,s, and forms
anew,
And who fails here, though poet, yet 'tis true,
As Dryden says, he's poet bat in name
And when he dies, his lines will soon the same.
First, then, poet needs pure genius, skill.
To mould his thoughts, control them at his will,
Those high, and good, for all cannot thus be,
Hold fast till metred verse, his mind shall free,
Expressed in lines harmonious to the ear
Producing joy, pershance the silent tear,
Or admiration high, or pathos deep,
The spirits aud the mind from morbid sleep
Arousing TO new life, kindIing to fame
The dormant energies of mind and frame.
Since many are the powers of the soul,
And poets, 40 such, do not need the whole,
We will define, illustrate more or less,
The special gifts, which poets must possess.
For nature he must have boundless love,
Behold with awe. the countless orbs above,
Which led by natures laws, harmonious move
Around one sphere, by whose attractive force
They onward roll, in one continuous course.
Bot while the heav'ns with rapture fill his
mind,
In scenes Of earth true pleasure he must find.
The mighty ocean, heaving to and fro,
Whose restless waters daily ebb and flow.
The lofty moun,ains reaching TO the sky,
Whose craggy peaks with glass We scarce de-
sc'y:
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