New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1850-11-30
NEW PUBLICATIONS


,orms BY GRACE GREENWOOD, limo PIP, 100
Boston Ticknor Reed x Fields
This beautiful volume consists of selections
from the poems which have been widely cfcuia'
ted in various periodicals, and which have estao
lisbed the rank of the author among the most
richly gifted American poets They are sinSu-
larlv free from the mcnotony which ollgats Tue
highest efforts Of many OF our popular vefSiiers
and breathe an intense imprisoned spirit, winch
stamps their claim to being genuine, original pro
dncts of an earnest and lofty nature. The sever
;,y and wild vigor of many of these poems are re-
6eved and softened by frequent gushes of tender
uo+bos With no aainities with the school OF milk
and water sentimentalists they abound IN traits
Of delicate and noble sentiment The sympathcs
of the author are hopeful and generous; she has
not been petrifed by the touch Of false conset-
yatisln; her song is in accordance with the spirit
of the age she has faith in human dignity, IN
selfsacriice in ideal truths and under the glow
ing inspiration of this creed she pours out her
soul in sweet and fiery eanticles which have
virtuealtogether more sovereign than the sonoroQs
ring of hollow words. Bya natural transition she
facilely passes into the region OF the comic and
humorous but her attempts in this kind, though
showing the healthness OF her genius, have not
the brilliant polish essential to the charm OF wit
Her versifcation, always spirited and vigorous, IS
not remarkable for smoothness and sometimes
becomes too harsh for dainty ear. In her pref
nee she asks the public to regard this volume more
az o promise than performance, more as pro
phecy than ulGllment and as counterpart to
this modest claim, we venture the opinion that
the fraitage of her ripened genius will more than
redeem the pledge of its rich bossoming. The
pyoem to this collection is in strain of noble as
piration We extract few stanzas:
SOME lays there are seem only sent
To add to passions Establishment,
Or wing the creeping hours
Of souls to lifeless resigned,
In dreamy languidness recllned
On pleasures couch OF flowers.
And some are like exotics rare,
Found blooming in the still, SOFT ar
OF pride and luxury only
And some like priceless burning gems,
Set in imperial diadems
In very brightness lonely
And some in stately sluggishness,
Forsaken barks float rudderless
Adown time silent river;
And some are meteors on high,
One moment flashing DER the sky,
Then lost in night Tor ever
NV laws, my lays,-would they might find
An echo in my country heart
BE in it's home affections shrined,
Form Of it's cherished things part
Be like wild flowers and common air,
Blooming for all, breathed cverywhere,-
Or like the glad song OF the bird,
Gushing for ALL fell more than Heart
Earnest untirng, might they be
Like barks before a breeze at sea-
Whose dashlng proWs point home
Like good knights bound for Palestine,
Like artists, warmed by fire divine,
Der icy Alp and APennlne,
u.,ld thair w Home
like arrows flashing through the light,
Like eagles on their sunward flight
Like to all things in which we see
An GRAND and destiny
And would TO Heaven that Freedom voice,
Wild, bold, deiying, strong,
Might sometimes, like martial strain,
Peal through my fearless song!
The soft toned lays of sycophants
May mine yet ring above,
Clear as q clarion, and yet
Their very soul be tooe
l8SM o, not that Love who deems her sphere
sss Ia not where falls the mortal tear
sss Not by the mortals hearth,
& AS ministering angel here,
Far from her place OF birth;
With earnest, hcavenward gazing eye.
And spread wing tutterlng tor the sky,
All yeRrnng to depart size seems
And scarce permits, in her high dreams,
Her feet to touch the earth.
Away with such love Be mine
A love more glorious, mere divine,
That boweth to the Infinite,
When his dimmed image meets the night,
AS t were all glory and ali light
That loves the wide world as ID LcS,
With broken soil aud clouded skies,
With changing scenes and varied lots,
And few flowers sprlngnG IN the spots
Where angel feet have trod!
Let every theme with this be fraugh'
Let every lay let every thought,
Flash out this life OF God,