New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1855-08-07
Aetu9lprk DAILY Gibnare
NEW PUBLICATIONS..
TENNYsONS NEW POEM.
BAUD AND OTHER POEMS. By ALFRED TEN
l2lno DID. Isl. Boston: 7 cknor FelGs.


plaintiye echoes Of pathos and tenderness in the
most remarkable tribute ever paid by genius to
friendship. in the sweet and solemn lyrics Of In
Memoriam," his voice has been heard only IN brief
illusions. suggested by some passing event of the
day But bis tongue has lost BOthiDg Of It's strange
enchantment. He yet speaks in those weird and
mystic tones which weave resistless spell around
the imagination, even when they fail to present
lucid conception to the intellect The poem which
gives ts name TO this volume is deep rbythmical
tragedy Over the whole scene rests somber,
lurd light relieved at intervals by bursts OF tender
rapture but not sufficient to overcome the pre-
vailipg bloOd-red tone of the representation. In
keeping with the rapid transitions of sentiment the
verse often changes from extreme ruggedness OF
diction to soft and liquid flow of exquisite sweet
ness and grace, preserving the measure from mo
nOtoDy and the reader from safety None OF Ten
nyson's former poems are more deliberately con-
structed. or show more of the dainty articles of
composition, in which he takes such genial delight
Some of these pecularities are INDUCED in TO ex-
cess creating conspicuous mannerism, especially
in the use Of sOnOrous alterations and the sudden
contrasts between en- almost prosaic LONELINESS of
expression and language of singularly rich and
melting melody.
The story of Maud is related in the person Of
the principal actor in the tragedy. 1t is alb
ruptIy introduced with the description of
pbastIy spot, in which was found the dead body
of his father. He had disappeared long time
ago, bu. a mystery hung over the manner of his
death:
Did he fling himself down who knows for q great
speculation had failed,
And ever he mutter'd and madden'd and ever wannd
with despair
Ard out he walked when the wind like broken world
ling walled,
And the flying gold oi the ruined WOODLANDS drove
through the air
TIE remembrance of his fathers fate calls
forth from the narrator an impassioned utter
snce Of misaBthropy aud des9sir. The world is
completely bottom side 40 to bis distorted Wis.,
ion. The blessings Of peace are curse-every
hand lusts for what is not it's own-none but a
fool would have faith either in the ware or the
word of a tradesman-the poor are hustled and
hoyelled together like ne-only the ledger
lives and only not all men le-ths juice of the
vineyard is forged and the ytrol madness
husbes up in the ruftian's head-the filthy by
lane rings to the yell Of the trampled wife
for bread-and even the yillainous apotheciry
cheats the sick of few last gasPs by "pestiing
poisoned poison behind his crimson lights
In the midst of these unrefreshing contempla-
lions he bethinks himself of Maud, the daughter
of AN old millionaire who had become possessed oil
the broad ancestral estate ard hall by foul means
leaving the family Haccid and drained"
1 have heard ] know not whence of the singular
beauty of Maud,
10 be fair.
Maud with her venturous climbings and tumbles and
Maud the delight Of the village the ringing joy of the
Hall
Maud with her sweet purse1mOuth when my father
NIoud the beloved OF my mother the moon-faced dar
ling of all.
But his inveterate skepticsm leaves him no peace
even in this sweet recollection.
What is she now Ny dreams are bud She may
bring me a curse.
No. there lie fater game on the moor; she viii let me
alone.
Thanks. for the fend but knows whether woman or
man be the worse.
pipe 10 his own.
Nor can he complete portrait of Maud without
giving vent TO his bitter satTical humor.
l
II at last
II will never be broken by Maud, she has neither ga
vor salt,
Bat a cold and clear-cut face, as found when her
carriage pass
The fault
All that saw for her eyes were downcast, not TO be
Fauiy fauluess Jelly regular splendidly null,
| Dead perfection, no more; nothing more, II j, had
For chance OF travel raleness, hours defect of
the rose, -
Or an Underlip Won may call it little ripe fun,
Or The least L;ile delicate aQuine curve IN sensitive
nose, -
From which | escaped he0rtiTee, with the least little
touch Of spleen.
Ho sgain sees her pass like = light, up IN the
high Hall garden, bat, with his envenomed
hatred 10 her father the wrinkled head Of the
race. proud in his ill-gotien wealth, he swears
nat that light shall never be his leading
star" This rash resolution is fortified bya
course cf pensive rehectioa, which makes us
! laugh"
Re mi,e philosophers life in the que' woodland
ways,
Where, il csnno, be gsy, let Passionles' peace be
For-oG rom the clamcr Of Lam beed in the hubbub
From the iong-neck geese Of the world that ere ever
Rscau.e tier haturss arc Ele ard, whether he heel
Where eseh man walks with his head in cloud OF
poisonous ties
And mos, of al would Zee from iho cruel madness Oh
love, ,.,..,-.,.,s; N
Ito oxrp