filled with houries. If a cup of water from its fountain has refreshed us, if we are delighted with the beauty of its unassuming flowers, and forget, for a few moments, the weary miles we have wandered, we view it as a relief in the landscape of life and recur to its idea with pleasing recollections.

The purest subjects of poetry are devotion, the social affections, particularly friendship and love, and descriptions of natural scenery. The unapproachable sublimity of the Bible has thrown such a sanctity over the realms of devotion, that few minds may hope to explore them with success. But though no one can expect to gather the splendid fruits of David and Isaiah, the humble and devoted worshipper of the heavenly muse, should not be discouraged in his attempt to pluck a few of the beautiful flowers, which bloom on the borders of the holy land.

That the contents of the following pages alone will entitle their author to the glorious appellation of Poet, I scarcely dare hope; though it may well be remembered, that “a man may be a poet, without being Homer." If it shall appear that I have imparted in the least degree to the gratification of any thinking mind, it will be something added to the happiness of my future life. Of one satisfaction I may not be deprived; the enjoyment of that glorious perception of poetic beauty, of which the following are but imperfect emanations.