Lynchburg daily Virginian. [volume] (Lynchburg [Va.]) 1852-1861, 1853-06-07
0be Dailp bireiniau.
Alexander smiths Poems.

POEMS. By ALExALpER SMITH. l2mo. PIP
1872 Boston Ticknor, Reed K Fields
England has usually been slow to recognize
the advent of n new poet Shakespeare was i'll
appreciated in his own age. Milton was but
the "old blind school MASTER to hls scorniul
contemporaries. And in more recent times, the
first genial reception of Wordsworth as a mas
ter in the realms Of verse was by readers of
prophetic susceptibility in this country. Cole
ridge had long 10 wait for the "ft audience.
which even now is "few." The echo of deri
sion which was the English welcome TO Shel.
ley, Keats and Tennyson, has yet scarceley
died away, amid the heart warm plaudts oil
their admirers. Poetic feme has not been a
plant of face growth. Ii has been reared on
hard soil. and amid irosts and biting winds.
The great poets who are now acknowledged
as chiefs in English song were not "dandled
into notoriety by fostering patrons or Halter
ing critics, but have achieved their lofty posi-
ton by the force of that inspiration, which is
befrended by the God from whom it comes
and challenges no (urthrrance from fashion or
capricious opinion
Alexander Smith, if genuine poet, has
met with widely different fortune from his
fore runners. His chapIet of laures has beer
purchased by no crown of thorns. 1t is not
contributor to some of tho obscurer London
periodicals. He is now, we un erstand, but
little more than one and twenty years OF age.
Without any novitlate of peril and tears, he
has reached a full.blown popularity at once.
Tie little volume now published has boon re-
ceived with a flourish OF trumpets from tho
English press, scarcely broken by single dis
coldant sound The long aud loud acclaim
ii L.. e. - ;al La IA
notes Of iubaton that attend the march of n
conqueror. Certainly not within our remem
brance, has any poet been hailed with such a
general burst Of enthusiasm and even the
most cool biooded critics seem 10 bo ostonshed
out Of their propricty by the delightful appa'
riton. "He promises" says one, ITO be
greater poet than any emorgent genius of the
last few years" at is to the earlier works OF
Keats and Shelley alone that we can hook for
a counterpart in richness of fancy and force of
expression" "Much of his imagery" say
others, "reminds one of Shakespeare and his
contemporaries" "There is not page of
this volume on which we cannot find some
novelimage, some Shakspeareian felicity of
expression, or some striking simiIe." Since
Tennyson,no poet has come before the pub
lie with the same promise as the author of
this volume" These are honey sweet cncom
iums, to be sure, and strangely at variance
with the bull dog eagerness with which the
English critic is wont to fasten upon the throat
of the new aspirant to poetic honors.
But we will not delay to introduce this"sweet
youth and tall" with Shackspeares mantle
on his shoulders and shod with the golden san
dals of Shelley ond Keots, to such Of our read
ers as have not already FASTENED to make his
acunaintaucp on their own account
The principal poem in the volume, inaptly
enough called "a Life Drama" as ii shows
scarcely trace Of constructive dramatic pow
er, consists of series of sketches, intertwined
in desperate, though beautiful confusion. and
diversified with CLEANS OF reflection suddenly
flashing ath wart the horizon, and vouchsafng
as little account ofthemseves as the auroral
spIendors of the northern sky. AS dramatic
tale. We must acknowledge that it is trivial in
lconception, crude and meagre in executlon,and
more than questionable in point of truth and
IdeIicacy of passion. But it certainly abounds
lin passages overlooking with original and ox
jouisite imagery, kindled with the fire ofgen-
u.s. and clothed in luscious melody oil phrase,
W hlch stamp the author as Poet-a genuine
Maker and not merely skllful rhymer So
numerous are the passages oil this character,
that we are only at loss which to select as
specimens Of the most brilliant successes OF our
new poet. We will take few at random,
which may be detached from the context with.
out essential damage:
sLEEPlso roET.
IOh 'tisa sleeping Poet aud his
Sings like the syrcn isles. Anopuent Soul
Droptin my pa h like great cup of gold,
| All rich and rough with stories fthe gods
lMethinks all poets should be gentle, fair,
And ever young and ever benutiiul
| I'd have all poets to be like to this
iGod.bared and rosy-pped, to sing of Love.
A B0oKwoRm.
1 Art thou Sir Bookwormi Hauntcr of old tones,
IStting tho silent term Of stars to watch
Your thought passing into beauty, like
An earnest mother watching the first smile
Dawnng upon her sleeping infants face,
Until she cannot see it for her tears
BOOKS
Books written when the soul is ut spring-tide,
When it is laden like grooming sky