New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1860-12-15
NETWORK DAILY TRIBUNE SATURDAY, DECEMBER Is, 1850

tory SONGS and sonusts. Thence, from the time
Of Sir Th, mas Wyatt, born IN iooa' 70 tae
crescent we lave nm ubrOken clam OF the met
real exprs ions Of English and American love-
Ore hun, red and twenty-six poets chans 70 US
their passion, their hoIe, their Bliss Nhe'r "oo"'
jeaousy, sorrow, and despai'.
I'm erch poet the sentiment takes Oh indi''au"
col, ring; it is tinctured not only with MS own
pers nulity, but with That of tho lady whom ITO
adores. and tho careful reader can still further
detect, under tho feeling and imagery, something
Of the character of the age in which the author
lived. It is interesting to trace, in this collection
the varying fashions of pOetical EXPRESSION IRON
the candor and simplicity of Dante, through tho
delcote fancies of Petrarcb, tho quaint, contein'
pIatiye character Of the Elzabethan tmes' qua
the conceits and agectatiOns Of the century io-
loving. down TO the modern revival OF reality IN
literature
The value of tho collection is greatly increaSed
By the notes which the editor has preh1ed 70 hiS
selections from those poets whose love has Do
come immortal in their songs. His accouns Oh
the loves of Petrarch, TassO, Wyatt, Surrey,
Sidney, Spencer, Shakespeare, Wotton' swiit
Burns and Byron is as complete as tho records
allow. lie gives us, with exemplary care ana
fidelity all that is known concerning the
loves and heroines of these poets and no moro.
Where facts are wanting he sometimes offers us
HIS own cOrjectures, bns always with becoming
mcdeety and caution. He is evidently diligent
student of English liternture but never seeks 10
cisIlny his knowledge at the expense OF tho sub
ject II is pleasant to ind an author capable oil
resisting the temptations to which the WORK
must necessarily have exposed him, and coniinlng
himself faithfully to his simple duty.
The bulk of the volume il devoted to the anna
tory poetry Of the ago of Elizabeth, ard Of Charles
the First aud Second, but tho modern English
authors have not been neglected. We are glad
to find such poems as Wolle's Mary" George
Darley's Flower of Beauty" and MerediSis
Love in the Valley" which are not 70 wild ~
known US they deserve to be. What poem 10 tho
English language possesss a moro subtle and ten
der melody than this
TIP FLOWER or BEAUTY.
Sweet in her green dell the flower OF beauty slnmbers,
Lued by the faint breezes ching through hor bsir
STEERS she, and Lears not the melancholy numbers
Dreathed to my sad Lutte amid the lonely AIR!
Down from the high cliffs the rivulet ia teening
To wind round tho willow banks that lure lin from
above;
o that in tears, frou NY rocky prison streaming,
l, TOO, could glide 10 the bower of my iove'
Ali where the woodbines with sleepy ARDS, hare
wound her,
Opes she err eyelids at the dream of my lay,
Lii ,ening, ike tho dove, who the fountains echo
rom Ter,
To hes lost mates call in the forests far away!
Come them my bird for the peace thou Dearest,
Still Heavens Messenger OF comfort to me;
Ccncl III il fond bosom, my faithiuest my fairest,
Bleeds tt-wouud-but deepery etforthee'
T.nnyson's exquisite song Of ASK me no
more" ia probably familiar to most of our read
ere, but they may not be equally familiar with
Thomas Carew's variations on tho same refrain
ASK NE NO MORE.
Ask ne no more whore Jove bestows,
When June il past, the fading rorci
For in your beauty's orient deep
Ibese flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
Ask me 70 more whittier doth stray
The golden atons Of the day:
For In pure love, heaven did prepare
Tho.e powders TO enrich your hair.
AK ire no more whittier doth haste
Tie ngi tingale when May il past;
For in your sweet dividing threat
She winters, and keeps warm her note.
Ask NE no more where those stars light,
That downward fall III dead Of niyhti
For in your eyes they sit and there
Fixed become, as in their sphere
Ask me 10 more if east or west
The Pi 9nx builds her n icy nest;
For unto Won at last she flies
And in your fragrant bosom dies.
- -. t,,n from, thasa dainty breatbinos of !
love in is stage of alteration and hope, to lament
over love that has been won, enjoyed, and taken |
away. Nothing in the volume is more tender |
and touching than tho "Exequy' of Bishop !
King We have only space for the concluding
lines:
Sleep on, my love, in thy cold bed
Never 10 lie dIsquieed
Aly last goodnight! Tbou wilt not wake
Til I thy fate hull overtake:
Till age, or grief or sickness must
Blauy ny body to that dust
1t 20 MuCh loN es, aud I'LL the room
My heart KEGS empty in the tomb
Say Tor there; will not fail
IT, meet thee il that hollow vale.
And Link not much Of my delay
tin already on tf % way,
And follow thee with AL the sped
Desire can make, sorrOws bre ID.
Each minute Is Il short degree,
And every hour a step toward thee.
At night when bet,ke to re+t,
Next morn Tire nearer my west
OF lie, ain tst by eight hours sail,
Than when sleep breath ed his drowsy gale.
Thus from the sun my bottom steers,
And ny day . COMPASS downward bears:
Nor labor to stem the tide
Through witch TO thee swiftly glide
IT'S true, with shame and giiei yield.
Tiou like the van int took 81 the field,
And gotten hast the victory,
IN time ndyeuturinp la Gle