The book of gemsThe modern poets and artists of Great Britain . s to be lamented, thather intimacy with Natiire has been so limited and constrained, and that the scope ofher genius has been therefore narrowed. The sources of her fame have, however,been numerous and productive; and her poems have obtained a popularity scarcelysecond to that of any British writer. She not only obtained a reputation—she hassustained it: it is acknowledged and appreciated wherever the English language isunderstood. When she quitted the less substantial topics in which her early youthdelighted, for themes more wort
The book of gemsThe modern poets and artists of Great Britain . s to be lamented, thather intimacy with Natiire has been so limited and constrained, and that the scope ofher genius has been therefore narrowed. The sources of her fame have, however,been numerous and productive; and her poems have obtained a popularity scarcelysecond to that of any British writer. She not only obtained a reputation—she hassustained it: it is acknowledged and appreciated wherever the English language isunderstood. When she quitted the less substantial topics in which her early youthdelighted, for themes more worthy of the Muse, she proved the strength of her mind,as well as the richness of her fancy ; and her latter productions are unquestionably herbest. The extent of her labour is absolutely startling. A large proportion of her poemsremain scattered through various periodical works :—we believe, if collected, theywould form a greater number of volumes than those already published; and herwritings in prose are records of her industry, no less than of her LANDON. LITTLE RED HIDING HOOD. Come back, come back together. All ye fancies of the days of April shadows that are cast By the haunted hours before !Come back, come back, my childhood; Thou art summoned by a spellFrom the green leaves of the wild beside the charmed well!For Red Riding Hood, the darling,—The flower of fairy a 2 180 The fields were covered overWith colours, as she went;Daisy, buttercup, and her footsteps bent. Summer shed its shining was happy as she prest them Beneath her little feet;She pluckd them and caressd them—They were so very sweet. They had never seemed so sweet Red Riding Hood, the darling,—The flower of fairy lore. How the heart of childhood dances Upon a sunny day !It has its own romances. And a wide, wide world have they !A world where phantasie is all of eager dreaming,— When once grown up and tall;Now is
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Keywords: ., bookauthorwordsworthcollection, bookce, booksubjectenglishpoetry
