Phenix gazette. [volume] (Alexandria [D.C.]) 1825-1833, 1832-05-19
AMERICAN COMMON PLACE BOOK OF
POETRY


Perhaps it might seem too late to greet the ap-
pearance of book, which came out the last year.
But if it be true that it is never too late to do
good, we may yet confer benefit on some OF our
readers, by drawing their attention to the best,
and we know not that we might not add, the only
collection of American Poetry, which has yet
been made. We are led to notice il by the hope
that it may create in others as pleasant surprise
as it did in us-to find that SO much good poetry
had been written on this side the Atlantic. We
have been so long accustomed toimport our lilera'
ture as we'll as our manufactures, that the foreign
article has acquired a sort OF prescrlptlve pre-
ference; and an American scholar feels almost
az mean with an American book IN his hand, as
a gentleman 10 coat Of American broadcloth.-
Such ia the delusive fascination, even in litera.
ture, which attaches itself to the 'sfar sought
and the far brought" that we can scarcely be-
lieve our own eyes when we have in our hands
poem, or penknife, equal to any thing, which
brains and fingers have elaborated on the sacred
soil of our father.land.
We were lately much impressed by a remark
of our promising Young countryman Greenough.
now in Paris, relating to this subject "The
patronage of foreign art" says he, sis an entire
mistake. 1t is like carting sand upon luxuri.
ant SOIL. One native model is worth legions OF
exotics" Just 90 we say in literature. Let
our literature. whatever it may be, be our own;
let it be national. Indigenous; not scion from
another tree, merely to reproduce its original
Let it spring spontaneously from our own earth,
and exhibit, in it's natural growth, the peculari-
ties Of the soil and climate Let us not hear our
poets singing of larks and nightingales. which
they never heard, except in the pages OF English
Poetry. Let the poets of this country seize on
what Of grandeur and beauty nature has here so
literally spread before them, and they can never
want Imagery to embellish their loftlest con-
ceptions. Let US have poetry TO CORES
pond in its sublimity to our mountains; IN the
depth of its tone to the roar OF our Niagara; and
let it be as free as the spirit OF our institutions
We begin our quotations with the Justly ad-
mired lines Of Bryant to Waterfowl. We ven
ture 10 say, that neither ancient or modern times
have produced any thing of the kind superior to
this. Not even the Greek Anthology,
fragment of which reminds US Of tine precious
remnants of ancient sculpture, polished. solid,
mperishable, whose freshness the lapse Of ages
has not dimmed,-can show any thing more per-
feet. 1t stronly reminds US Of the best efforts
of GRAY. 1t has the same collected majesty OF
thought, the same tnge Of sombre feeling. and
the same condensed, yet simple harmony oil
numbers.
Ioa Watgjowl-BRrAHT
whittier, midst falling dew,
While glow the heavensswt The last steps OF day,
Far, through their ROSY depths, dost thou pursue
Thy solitary way!
Vainly the fowler's eye
Might mark thy distant Aghf to do thee wrong.
As, dsrkly painted on the crimson sky,
Thy figure Apats along.
Seek'st thou the pIashy brink
Of weedy lake. or marge # rivera,de,
Or where the rocking pillows rise and sink
On the chzfed ocean SIDE!
There is Power whose care
Teaches thy way along that painless coast
The desert and ilhmitabe air
Lone wandering, but not lost.
All day thy wings have famed
At that far height. the cold, thin atmosphere;
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,
Though the dark night 10 near.
And soon that toll ohsll end;
loon shalt thou find . summer home, and rest
Ind scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend
Soon DER thy sheltered nest.
L. IL oe