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AE tee heer enn tame stp Re Pins au, ama A
BA
ORIGINAL POETRY.
The SonneET, though so ill auapted to the English language, has been attempted
by almost every English Poet: —Milton, who transplanted into our soil the fairest
flowers of Italy, left it not ungathered; his classic mind saw and seized its
heauties ; but to compose in our language a good Sonnet’ requires the genius of a
Milton, while every Italian rhymer is equal to the task. The language of Italy, so
fertile in similar terminations, affords a.choice which our’s denies ;—The English
Sonnet, therefore, . embraces all the difficulty of the Italian, without any of its
facilities ;. while the necessary ‘recurrence of the same rhyme compels a stiffness
of style, an harshness of expression, and a quaintness of sentiment. Hence has
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tho Sonnet become an object of parody;—but the manner of tlie parody has been
sadly mistaken :—the reader should be led along its perusal asif it were serious ;—
the deception should be delicately managed, and not until the last line, nay, if pos-
sible, the last word, should the ridicule be discovered.—The reader should be sur-:
prised into the laugh ;—but if the writer plunges even with his: first line into the
broad burlesque, the effect of the parody is utterly lost.
That we may not however be accused of laying down rules which cannot or
should not be observed, we subjoin the following specimens of the genuine Parodical
Sonnet :
A SENTIMENTAL SONNET.
Ah Iam very sad, indeed I am !—
Come melancholy Muse, my wanderings meet ;
We for each other fittest are, I w eet 5
And as along the willowy banks of Cam,
' Or Isis’ sedgy side, my pensive feet
Forth stray, Oh lead me thou !—The innocent Lamb,
The matron Ewe, and horn’d paternal Ram,
Shall aid our converse with congenial bleat.—
Lonely as they who left the land of Ham,
Nor Love, nor Hope, nor Pleasure’s dear deceit;
Shall woo me ;—in his wild and waste retreat
Lenvy the poor Indian youth his yam.—
' But. ah, why ’plains my song so sadly sweet ?—
‘ ~.. Intruth,
+
"tis all—_—a sonneteering sham.
AN INQUISITIVE SONNET.
Yes, I have heard her vivifying voice ;
With winning witchery from her tuneful tongu
Most musical the chaste enchantment sprung
Wontless ;—then first my beating bosom knew
9,