New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1862-12-26
NEW PUBLICATIONS.
THE POETS JOURNAL.

A SLIGHT dramatic arrangement anOfds III aP'
prOpriate medium to the author of this volume f0r
tha EXPRESSION of those intimate experiences,
~ one usually shrinks from uttering in his
,,orson. The journal Of the poet which
Gives the title to the collection is supposed to mar
Tste the history. not Of the author but OF one oil
u. friends. although DO one can douOt 'na' 'ne
-o,,;o;,cances of tie former have furnished the
;osniraton of the subject. The scene opens with
fbe description Of a charming rural residence
where the author has been awaiting the VISIT OF a
roetjcai friend whom he was now TO meet aler
separation of many years. The arrival OF tne
lopqed-for guest seemed to shed fresh beauty
over the smiling landscape.
Ernest was here, and now the day had gone
like oil er days. yet wild aud swift and sweet
And vet prolonged, as If with whiriing feet
O . froop Of duplicated Hours sped on,
Aud one trod out the moments hngeringy:
So distant seemed The lonely dawn from me-.
Bu! all wac well. lie paced the new mown lawn,
With Edith az his side aod, while my frs
Stood bronzed with sunset happy glaoces cast
On the familiar landmarks OF tho Past
heard a gentle laugh: The laugh was hers.
A" Confess il, she exclaimed Il recognize,
No less than YOU, the features OF the place,
SO often have / seen it with the eyes
Your memory gave ne: yea, yoar very face,
VITA every movement OF the theme, betrayed
That here the sunshine lay, and there the shade"
IA proof |" cried Ernest. Let me be your guide"
sac said, "and speak not: Philip shall decide
To them went at beckon of her hand.
A moment ehe the mellow landscape scanned
In seeming doubt but only TO proIong
A witching aspect OF uncertainty,
And the soft smile in Ernest's watching eye:
q Yonder." size said " Il see am not wrong,
ID, i;,,fa Coz i xror herr NAT
Against lbs rock, among the scented fern,
Where summer Lizards played about your feet;
And iere, beside Us, Is the t0its ing urn
You cracked IN fixing firmly on It's base;
And lere-yes, yes this is the very place
I know the wild vine and the sassatr@s-
Where you and Philip, lying III the grass,
Disowned she world, renowned the race Of men,
And you all love- except your own for him,
Until, through that all love came back again
Here Editn paused; but Ernests eyes were dim
lie kIssed her, gave loving hand 70 me,
And spoke: "Ah, Philip, Philip, those were days
We dare remember now, wbea only blaze
Fsrof, tie storms black edges brckenly.
Who thinks Ut night, that morn "i ever be
Who knows, far out upon tie central ssa,
That any where is land And yet, a shore
Has set behiD9'u and will Tise before:
A past foretells iutuTe.' :" Blessed be
That Past! / answered, " on whose bosom lay
Peace, like newborn child and now, l see,
Ias Child Is inan, begetting day BY day
SJIle lresnSr Joy, some tsueI bAesj 10 llidho
Your lite the farer for his mothers sake"
The friendly host naturally wished to hear
full recital Of the experience of his guest since
their protracted absence from each other. He
accepts the proposal with the most transparent
candor, and consents to read to him the journal
10 which hs griefs and joys were frankly recorded
Tie pages were "writ in fire and tears, ex-
pressing at first the blind and angry prOtestations
Of disappointment than the slow delyerance
gradually produced in the lapse Of years, and
OF length the struggle into new and happy life.
From the first portion of the journal, we take
the following lines depicting the rash, unreasoning
despair Of early grief.
TIE thread held has slipped from out my baud;
III this dark labyrinth, without a clew,
GropinR for guidance stricken blind, / stand,
Ahelpless child that knows not what 10 do.
When al the glory OF the morn was mine,
The sudden night surprised me unawaies:
see no plying star above me shine,
hear no voice in answer 10 my prayers.
81 every step, stumble on the road;
Fain would rest, the wild hours whirl me on,
What business have / in this blank abode,
Wbeoce Love, AID Hope and even Faith, are gonel
a child Of Summer shivering 10 the cold
A con Of light, by darkness overcome
a bird OF air, my broken wings fold,
HarP Of joy, my shattered strings are dumb.
Ard every gift that Life to me had given
Lies a. nay feet, in useless fragments trOd:
There is 10 Justice or in Earth or Heaven:
There is no pity in the hear, OF God.
This is succeeded By deeper vein of reflection,
bu. the agony Of sorrow has given place only to
the calmuess Of apathy.
INDIFFERENCE.