The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1854-02-09
WASHINGTON, d. c.
PASSION FLOWERS.

aud with no acknowledgment Vi aueuoisAP,
Ti.kpor Reed. & Fields, of Boston, have just
;s.ro3 volume of poems, which, if We do not
,-.atlv mistake it's character, is destined to
create an interes. in the literary world second
ouly to that produced by the sudden appari-
ton of Alexander Smith, tho Glasgow poet,
,sw months ago. The book is not only re-
,narkabIe IN ITSELF but it indicates latent
nower. a reserved force, on the part OF Its au-
thor. which makes the pretent performance,
O,ost "a we feel it is seem but the prelude to
so,oetbinc vet higher and nobler. Several Of
the best poems 10 the book have their orgln
in the writer g memories of a winters residence
in Rome. With deep and passionate appre-
citation of that ancient capital Of the Pagan
and Christian world, and fully alive to all it's
,,,,r,l and classical associations, the writer
does not, like too many modern pilgrims thith-
ervart overlook in admiration of art and
beauty, the terrible social and political evils
which form their grim background. No
American, who understands the actual state
Of things in the Papal Territory, can fail to
with the indignation and scorn and
pity which by turns blaze or wall through
these poems. Rome is unquestionably, at this
moment, the worst governed State of Europe.
socially, politically, morally and spiritually, it
If the scandal and opprobrium Of Christendom,
a standing libel on the religion of Jesus. A
Government of spies and priests, propped by
foreign bayoncts, and resting on the dungeons
Of thirty thousand political prisoners dying by
inches in their living tombs, there is for the
republican or the Christian who contemplates
II no other alternative than silence or anathe-
ma The repeated denunoiation by the Ro-
man Inquisition of the Romance OF Harriet
Beecher Stowe, as heretical, seditious and
Is a gratifying evidence of the I'M
easy consciousness, on the part Of Ecclesiastical
l)espOtsm, Of its weakness and insecurity.
Light from every quarter is dreaded; the triple
mail Of the Great FalsehoOd is vulnerable to
the smallest arrow of Truth Even the arts
O. painting and sculpture-the lures which the
harlot and enchantrcss offers to all who APP
preach her-may be found in the end dan
gerOas ID her existence. Travellers tell us that
while with scarcely an exception, the galleries,
both public and private, of the city and its
environs, are thrown freely open to inspection,
that Of the Villa Ludovise is jealousy guarded,
and is 70 be seen only by means Of a written
permission from its princely owner for there
amidst classic forms, pale gods of heathendom,
and fashionable saints of the Romish calendar,
may be seen a colossal group--a stalwart bar
harlan stab5ing himself with his right hand,
while ms left supports his dying wife, sinking
1t Ire feet 1t il the man and the husband
k2..as hinself and his wife. to avoid the doom
Of Slavery-Uncle Tom and the Declaration
OF Independence in marble! Let the Holy
College look to it.
rs specimen OF the intense power and pas
Honate earnestness of the writer, when dealing
with whatever Outrages her sense of right, and
e,a'iile's with her moral and religious convic-
;'ons, We give some of the concluding stanzas
OF the poem entitled From Newport to Rome. y
She represents herself in the midst of the fash
ion aud folly of the great Northern watering
place at the time of tho overthrow of the Ro-
man Republic, ard as constrained to break in
upon the music and dancing with her startling
description Of the final struggle IF the doomed
city against the combined forces Of Papal Des-
l"'i's'n. The picture IS isarfaIy vivid
The rich must own the hidden hoard.
The brave are butehered where they stand
Ani maidens seek at altar-shrines
refuge from the IawIces band.
TIL Death. grown sordid, hunts no more
III. flying quarry through the street;
Ani The grim scaffoid. one by one,
Filings bloody moIsels for his meat
Were Death the worst, the patriots HYMN
Would ring triumphant in mine ears;
But pangs more exquisite await
Ihose who still eat tho bread OF tears
Pale faces pressed to prison bars
Grow sick and agonize with life.
Aud drm lips culver when the guard
TRUSTS rudely back some shIieking wife.
There women gathering on the sward,
l see them, helpful of each other;
The matron soothes the maiden's heart,
The sirl supports the trembling mother.
o'a r'eognitions, frantic prayers
'rcetings that sobs and spasms smother
N"i ~ my son the place rssounds
ana q, my father .. my brother!'
And souls are wed in nobcness.
That NE or shall mingle human breath:
Loves seed in holy purpose sown.
Love, hope in God and Natures faith.
a lag hangs in the InvaIides
mat HICKS with shame the stately dome
ia en- from Roman whom we slew,
keeping the threshold of his home
And yc delight in idle tunes
Aud are content to jig and dance,
When even tho holy MarseIlaise
sounds for the treachcry of France?
And not n voice amongst you here
Calls on the traitor wrath and hate2
And not n wine-cup which ye raise
Is darkened by the victims fate
Nor one with pious drops bowails
The anguish of the Mother world?
Oh hush the waltz is gay, they said,
And all their gauzy wings unfurled
Nay, hear me for a moment moro,
Restrain so long your needless haste
Hearken how pregnant is the time
he tear to threads or fling to waste.
through sluggish centuries of growth
Tho thonghiless world might vacant wait
But now the busy hours crowd in,
And man has come to mans estate
vain Taller power let each avow
The kinship of his human blood;
VAN tul!er pulse let every heart
swell to high pangs of brotherhood.
With fuller light let woman's eyes,
Earnest, beneath tho Christi like bond,
Strike this deep question home to men:
Thy brothers perish-idlest thero?'