_Concluding remarks on an Epic Poem of Giles Scroggins and Molly Brown._
The circumstance which rendered Giles Scroggins peculiarly ineligible as a
bridegroom eminently qualified him as a tenant for one of those
receptacles in which defunct mortals progress to "that bourne from whence
no traveller returns." Fancy the bereaved Molly, or, as she is in grief,
and grief is tragical, Mary Brown, denuded of her scarf and black gloves,
turning faintly from the untouched cake and tasteless wine, and retiring
to the virtuous couch, whereon, with aching heart, the poet asserts she,
the said
"Poor Molly, laid her down to weep;"
and then contemplate her the victim of somnolent consequences, when--
"She cried herself quite fast asleep,"
Here an ordinary mind might have left the maiden and reverted "to her
streaming eyes," inflamed lids, dishevelled locks, and bursting sigh, as
satisfactory evidences of the truth of her broken-heartedness, but the
"great anonymous" of whom we treat, scorns the application of such
external circumstances as agents whereby to depict the intenseness of the
passion of the ten thousand condensed turtle-doves glowing in the bosom of
_his_ heroine.
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