On this page
- Departments (1)
-
Text (4)
-
Au gust 9, 1856.] ____!_____
-
*"" LATTER-DAY POETRY. gsssam t?c inuSl ...
-
€\)t Irte ; #
-
THE ZOUAVES AT THE SURREY GARDENS. Last ...
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.
-
-
Transcript
-
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.
Additionally, when viewing full transcripts, extracted text may not be in the same order as the original document.
Au Gust 9, 1856.] ____!_____
Au gust 9 , 1856 . ] ____!_____
THE T . EADEB , ¦ 765 , ~ ——*—¦^ - ¦—¦—i—— i ———
*"" Latter-Day Poetry. Gsssam T?C Inusl ...
*"" LATTER-DAY POETRY . gsssam t ? c inuSl St . More and more do they appeal to emotion ; les * and less to intellect Some fierce and all-transmuting passion-some isolated mood m & swm by a subtle tol ™ g ® y t fld it ^ impued . Narrative poetry is almost exthSt " but tulads-sucn as those which were sung of old , when poetry hardly existed aparlfrom music , and when the minstrel or troubadour was m ^ mmmm Ws cSaSms in the midst of a prevailing lyrical tendency ) ; satirical verse fsa Sere ^ eam of the last generation ; . and the poetry of mannersand society is equally asleep . All these are m abeyance ; but the poetry of emotion , of ^ ensJtion , and of sumptuous musical utterance is awake and aSrve-indeed , unduly so . It must , be granted that poetry has never been so exquisitely sensitive as now ; never possessed so subtle a Perception , of those tender threads of analogy which connect the material and f ^ pmlual universes ; never before laid bare with such a cruel mastery , not the dramatic forms of emotion-for in tbis , as we have said , it is deficient—but the throbbin" heart itself . Yet here lies a fatal weakness . The desire to pry into the very soul of passion has been pampered into a disease ; »? d * f ch 5 £ of our Latter-day Poetry not unfrequently burns with a hectic flush . We want less of hysteria ; more of " sage and serious" thought . Perhaps our voun g poets might advantageously quiet their overwrought nerves by reverting at times to the extinct school of former days—to the assured strength of Dryden and the intellectual evolutions of Cowley . We have been more especially led into these reflections by the volume of poems recently issued by Mr . Sydney Dobell , author of The Roman , Balder & c , and entitled Engla 7 id in Time of War . ( Smith , Elder , and Co . ) It rnieht be taken as an exemplar of what we are tending to m the direction of poetry—as an epitome of the vices and the virtues of the present poetical system Mr . Dobell is already favourably known to the public , and the book now before us will no doubt find many admirers . It is indeed a book of creat power—of noble elements , yet of most unsatisfactory results . More intense perception of passion it would be diflicult to find ; more varied and expressive versification of the lyrical order , more warm and richly coloured fancy , cannot be shown within the compass of living verse-writers . Mr . Dobell has in him the very soul of sadness and the very soul of joy Cthough we hear more of the former than of the latter ); he has a true poet ' s sympathy with the many forms of beauty and solemnity that fill the world , and can incarnate the volatile suggestions of the mind in shapes of subtle analogy ; but he cannot rule over this gorgeous chaos world with royal strength , nor sort the elements that lie before him with an eye to consistency and repose . It is the old story that we have had to repeat till we are tired of the iteration : fine materials and bad architecture . Extravagance runs riot from the first page to the last of this singular volume , with a few rare exceptions ; and the author , having got hold of a hobby , rides it most pitilessly . This hobby consists of a tendency to incessant repetition of words , phrases , lines , and passages—a practice full of beauty if occasionally employed , as Coleridg e employed it , but most wearisome , and even irritating , when made , as Mr . Dobell makes it , part of the positive substance of his style , a rule and not an exception . What does the reader think of this—not by any means an isolated instance ?—
How long , oh Lord of thunder i Victory : Lord God of vengeance , give us victory ! Victory , victory ! oh , Lord , victory ! Oh , Lord , victory ! Lord , Lord , victory I The last two lines are employed seven times ( exclusive of what we have quoted ) in the course of the poem , which is little more than five pages in length . We seem never to bid farewell to this " damnable iteration , " for it is woven into the very texture of the book . It would not be fair , however , to call attention to the eccentricity without giving the reader a few specimens of Mr . Dobell ' s genius , which , as we have already intimated , is of a fine order when he will only give it fair play . The following is surely the perfection of hopeless misery and loneliness : — DESOLATE . From the sad eaves the drip-drop of the rnin ! The water washing at the lutchel door ! A slow step plashing by upon the moor ; A single bloat fur from the famiHhcd fold ; The clicking of an omborod hearth and cold ; The rainy Robin tic-tnc at the pane . " So na it ia with theo Ih it with mo , So as it is and it used not to bo , With theo used not to be , Nor rno . " So singeth Robin on the willow-treo , The rainy Robin tic-tac at the pane . Here in tliio breast all day The fire ia dim and low ; Within I care not to stay , Without I care not to go . A sadness over slugs Of unforgotton things ,
^ the bird of love is patting at the pane ; But the wintry water deepens at the door , And a step is plashing by upon the moor Into the dark upon the darkening moor , And alas , alas , the drip-drop of the rain ! Mr Dobell has a great admiration of Scotch ballads ( from winch , we suspect he derives his tendency to repetition ); and , although we cannot go ab ^' ith Wm in his strong sympathy with the ™ f ^ ™ £ k * » " * - Dosuble not to recognize the extraordinary dramatic force , vividness , jui d nathoa of « The Market Wife ' s Song . " Equally affecting in its sorrowful wonderment , is » The Little Girl ' s Song" ( not written in Scotch ) -a poem Txpressive of a child ' s weary longings for the return of her father from tie wa ? s in which the reader is subtly made to know , what the child does not know , that the warrior is dead . A ballad on a cognate subject , a little wav further on , is worthy to rank with Sir Patrick Spens , or Chevy Chase . It is entitled how ' s my hot ? " Ho , Sailor of the sea ! How's my boy—my boy ?" " What ' s your boy's name , good wife , And in what good ship sailed he ?" " My boy John—He that went to sea—> What care I for the ship , sailor ? My boy ' s my boy to me . " You come back from sea , And not know my John ? I might as well have asked some landsman Yonder down in the town . There ' s not an ass in all the parish But he knows my John . " How's my boy—my boy ? And unless you let me know I'll swear " you are no sailor , Blue jacket or no , Brass buttons or no , sailor , Anchor and crown or no ! Sure his ship was the ' Jolly Briton' — " Speak low , woman , speak low !" " And why should I speak low , sailor , About my own boy John ? If I was loud as I am proud I'd sing him over the town ! _ Why should I speak low , sailor ?" " That good ship went down . " " How's my boy—my boy ? What care I for the ship , sailor , I was never aboard her . Be she afloat or be she aground , Sinking or swimming , I'll be bound , Her owners can afford her ! I say , how ' s my John ?" " Every man on board went down , Every man aboard her . " " How ' s my boy—my boy ? What care I for the men , sailor ? I ' m not their mother—How ' s my boy—my boy ? Tell me of him and no other ! How ' s my boy—my boy ?" " Tommy ' s Dead" is a wonderful representation of the witless wanderin- of an old man under accumulated griefs . The verses are supposed t 0 & be spoken by an English agricultural labourer , who thinks every thing _ in the wo ? ld is withered and dried up ; and it is singular to note ! bow the rough Doric images and language are preserved , to the heightening , rathei thai the depreciation , of the poetry . " The Recruits' Bal \ ( Fiddler loqmtury might be quoted , if space would permit , as a piece of audacious animal spirits—a perfect paasion of tumultuous revelry ; and we might add many other specimens , but for the reason just assigned . Yet we must append this beautiful and original comparison spoken by one who is dying . — I feel two worlds : one ends and one begins . Methinks I dwell in both ; being much here , But more hereafter : even as when the nurse Doth give the babe into the mother ' s arms , And she who hath not quite resigned , and she Who hath not all received , support in twain The single burden ; ne ' ertholess the babe Already tastes its mother . Lord , I come .
€\)T Irte ; #
€ \) t Irte ; #
The Zouaves At The Surrey Gardens. Last ...
THE ZOUAVES AT THE SURREY GARDENS . Last Tuesday , a Zouave Band performed at the Surrej' Gardens . M . Jullien had composed for them a Trumpeter * ' Quadrille , which they " poured from their mellow horns" with admirable effect . The now Music Hall—a monument of the Limited Liability Act—was densely crowded , and when the picturesque group -green , brass , and scarlet—was marshalled on the platform , an enthusiasm wa « excited which might have- frightened any " intelligent foreigner , " but which did not seem in tho least to discompose the swarthy Zouaves . The clarion was imperially shrill . Tlio Roll-call , Kcveil , March , Bivouac , Alarm , and Victory were sounded in nil their variations , and when tho martial melodists ceased , it was their turn to listen , for tho uproar of applause was continued for some minutee . Tl >© irrational persons who thought it necessary to hiss tho Zouaves , as tho proxies of Louis Napoleon , might have reserved their protest against Prrotorianiam for a more fitting timo and place .
-
-
Citation
-
Leader (1850-1860), Aug. 9, 1856, page 21, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse2.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/cld_09081856/page/21/
-