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November 1, 185&] THE LEADIiR. 1049
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Gerald Massey's Poems. Craigcrooh Castle...
Like peering Children down some distant lane , What time with ponop and pealing pageant shows The Battle in its bravery blazons by , We peered into the passing world of War-Its crowning Heaven pulstzoitk starry hopes-Its crowded Hell of red and -writhing pain ; With hearts that ached or burned , as kindled cheeks Flamed up in reddening shame , or bloom of pride , And told the story as the pictures rose . How England swooned beneath the kiss of Peace , And languisht in Her long voluptuous dream ,
While weed-like creatures crept along her path . Where leapt of old proud waves of glorious life , The sluggish channels choked with golden sand . The passages in italics are very bad , and unhappily recal many others of kindred badness , of . "which we "will cite but this one , our object not being to insist on what is faulty so much as to point out the kind of fault to which the Fancy is liable when it plays with expression , careless of the idea expressed : — ¦ ¦¦ . . ; , . - .. '¦'¦ ' . ' ¦ ' In the green quiet of a neighbouring knoll There sat and sang a beauteous company ; Surg ' mg a soul-acke of' deliciousness .
For those , and . they are many , who think poetical language makes fine poetry this volume will be a rare treat . For those * and they are also many , who delight in the purely fanciful style of poetry , this volume has many pages of great beauty . We will cite an example or two as a set off against our objections : — * In that sweet season when the Year is green , And hearts grow merry as spring-groves full of birds , While life for pleasure ripples as it Tuns ; And young Earth putteth forth the lovely things She hath been dieamingthrough long winter nights ; Taking the May-tide in a golden swim ,
Her blithe heart singing for the flooding cheer ; And field and forest clothed in tender leaf , Shower after shower , out-smile a livelier green ; With dainty colour the kindling country dawns ; Death lieth 16 w ; his hidden footprints bloom ; Upon his grave Life dances all in flowers : And lying shell-like on our shore o' the world , Thinking to music played by hidden hands , We are caught up to listening ear of Heaven , That leaneth down maternal meek to hear Our inner murmurs of the eternal sea .
btill better this : — ¦ ''"' .. ¦ .. The breath of Davm brought God ' s good-morning kis 3 To bud and leaf and flower , and human hearts That like pond-lilies open lieaven-waTd eyes . Sweet lilies of the valley , tremulous fair , Peep through their curtains claspt with diamond dew By faery jewellers working while they slept : The arch Laburnum droops her budding gold From emerald fingers , with such taking grace : The Fuschia fires her fairy chandelry , And flowering Currant crimsons the green gloom : The Pansies , pretty little puritans , Come peering up with merry elvish eyes :
At summer ' s call the Lily is alight : Wall-flowers in fragrance burn themselves away With the sweet Season on her precious pyre ; Pure passionate aromas of the Rose , And purple perfume of the Hyacinth , Come like a colour through the golden day . A summer soul is in the Limes ; they stand Low murmuring honied things that wing forth Bees ; Their busy whisperings done , the Plane-trees hushl But lo , a warm wind winnowing odour-rain Goes breathing by , and there they curtsey meek , Or toss their locks in frolic wantonness , While a great gust of joy runs shivering thro' them ; All the leaves thrill and sparkle wild as wings .
Voluptuously ripening in the sun , The Meadows swell their tosoin plump with life , To pasture sauntering she « p , and ruminant kine ; And Kingcups spread their tiny hips to take The lavish largess showered down from heaven ; And , garnering the warm gold , nod and laugh . The Birds low-crooning o * er their sweet Spring-tunes Still touch them with a riper luxury : That Blackbird -with the "wine of joy is mellow , And in his song keeps laughing , he ' s so jolly , To think how summer pulps the fruit for him . His Apple-tree hath felt the ruddying breath Of May upon her yielding leafy lips , And broke in kisses trembling for delight ; Look how her red . heart blushes warm in white !
Deep after deep the generous heart of Spring , So golden-full of glad days , flusht in bloom , Ripe with all sweetness . Happy lines abound , such as : — Sunlight seeking hidden shadow , toucht The green leaves all a-tremblo with gold light . Or thia : — ^ Ho knowcth Life is but another year And it will blossom bright in other springs . But we need not indicate more of these , since no poetical reader will overlook them . To our tastes , however , wei'e these beauties ten times as abundant , they would not prevent a senso of weariness and dissatisfaction , ior wo are unable to continue long in company with pure Fancy , we demand some thought or emotion to bo excited in us . If , therefore , Mr . Gerald Massey is to win a place among our poets , to write verses which will live in
the mouths and memories of men , he must add two other strings ta his harp ¦— truth and passion . Faults of diction , faults of taste , faultsof imagery , are as nothing compared with the want of these two ; all poets are open to severe criticism , for all at times fall into mistakes and feebleness ; but the qualities which give them power over our minds are those , and those alone , which appeal to and enlarge our own experience of truth and passion . The greatest failure in this volume is in that section named " The Mother ' s Idol Broken , ' * which iromits subject ought to have been the greatest success . It sings of parental joy and parental sorrow ; that is to say , it deals with elemental emotions such as all parents can profoundly sympathize with ; yet Mr . Massey , -who has felt the joy and the sorrow , writes of both in strains for the most part so entirely fanciful , remote , abstract—so wanting in the terrible realities of touch which passionate experience gives to poetic genius alone , but which universal feeling recognizes as true—that we read his poems perfectly unmoved . His quick . Fancy is perpetually seducing him away from the real feeling , suggesting wbafc can be said about the feeling , rather from the real feeling , suggesting wbafc can be said about the feeling , rather
than giving utterance to the feeling itself . Now it is an obvious principle in art that the nearer the approach to reality in feeling , the simpler should be the expression ; imagery which does not intensify chills the feeling . Let us read this lesson in the following extract describing the mother ' s woe : — - A softer shadow Grief might wear ; And old Heartache ' come gather there The peace that falleth after prayer . Poor heart , that danced among the vines All reeling-ripe with wild-love wines , Thou walk ' st with Death among the pines ! Lorn Mother , at the dark grave-door , She kneeleth , pleading o ' er and o ' er , But it is shut Cor evermore . She toileth on , ^ Be mournfull ' st thing , At the vain task of emptying The cistern whence the salt tears spring . *
Blind ! blind ! She feels , but cannot read Aright ; then leans as she would feed .-. * ¦¦' . . The dear dead Tips that never heed . Beautiful is the first stanza , but the second runs away into mere caprice of Fancy ; the third again is real , the fourth fanciful , and the fifth exquisite . But why is the fifth so beautiful ? Because it intensifies our conception through a natural image expressed in the simplest and finest language . Had Mr . Massey never written more than that one fine passage , it is so fine that we should expect him to become a remarkable writer . Tf he will meditate the whole passage we have quoted , and by its light meditate the whole section , be will see the whole ground of our objection to the prodigal
employment of Fancy where Fancy is necessarily an impertinence . The next best passage , one also having real touches , is this : — O ye -who say , "We have a Child in heaven ;" Who have felt that desolate isolation sharp Defined in Death ' s owivface ; who have stood beside v The Silent Eiver , and stretcht out pleading-hands ¦ For some sweet Babe upon the other bank , That went forth where no human hand might lead . And left the shut house with no light , no sound , No answer / when the mourners wail without ! What we have known , ye know , and only know .
She came like April , who with tender grace Smiles in Earth ' s face , and sets upon her breast The bud of all her glory yet to come , Then bursts in . tears , and takes her sorrowful leave She brought u . s Eden just within the space Of the dear depths of her large , dream-like eyes , And o'er the vista dropt the death-veil dark . She only caught three words of human speech : One for her Mother , one for me , and one . She crowed with , for the fields , and open heaven . That last she sighed with a sweet farewell pathos A minute ere she left the house of life , To come for kisses never any more .
White Lily ! liow she leaned in love to us ! And how we feared a hand might reach from heaven To pluck our sweetest flower , our loftiest flower Of life , that sprang from lowliest root of love ! Some tender trouble in her eyes complained Of Life ' s rude stream , as blue Forget-me-nots Look sweet appeal when winds and waters fret . Wo saw , but feared to speak of , her strange beauty , As some husht Bird that dares not sing i' the night , Lest lurking foe should find its secret place , And seize it through the dark . With twin-love ' s strength All crowded in the softest nestling-touch , Wo fenced her round—exchanging silent looks . "We went ahoitt the house with listening hearts , And eyes that watcht for Danger ' s coming steps . Our spirits felt the Shadow ere it fell . Quitting liere the unpleasant task of criticism , we will quote two more specimens of his happier strain . The old thought is very felicitously expressed here : — Not by appointment do we meet Delight And Joy ; th ^ y heed not our expectancy ; ¦ But round some corner in the streets of life , They , on a sudden clasp us with a smile . And hero is a charming lyric : — " Like a troc hesido the river Of her life that runs from me , Do I lean mo , murmuring ever In iny love ' s idolatry . Lo , I reach out hands of blessing ; Lo , I stretch out hands of prayer ; And , -with passionate caressing , Four my life upon the air .
November 1, 185&] The Leadiir. 1049
November 1 , 185 &] THE LEADIiR . 1049
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Citation
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Leader (1850-1860), Nov. 1, 1856, page 17, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/cld_01111856/page/17/
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