The Charleston daily news. [volume] (Charleston, S.C.) 1865-1873, 1866-11-28

beautiful and true, which has nevor been wholly
without witness in tho world, bo not entirely at
fault in demanding, as tho requisites for our ap-
probation Of womon, something other than and
apart from the strat soft 1anlss" s'splendid sup
pie thighs" and
White wealth of bodies mado whiter
BY the biushes of amorous biowBt
which characterize tho horoincs Of Mr.. SWIM
BUnNEs erotic lays-then We can have no fear of
the verdict of postority upon his book. Tho moral
sense Of mankind is outraged with impunity.
We forgive to the great geniuses Of past ages tho
impurities which too often disfguro thor pages,
and which willing to ascribe to the debasing
influences of corrupt surroundings. But d book
which, i'll tho nineteenth century, emulates the
obscenties of ROCHESTER, and WYoHEnLY, and
which seoms to have been written simply for tho
purpose of promulgating tho faith that
There The , Is ns,S not ono 10 thing with nth another mother
My brother, am ono with thee"
must find the fate OF oil preachers of now rel-
gons which violate tho truest instincts Of that
worry moral nature to which oil doctrine must ulti-
mately address itself.
After so much ccnsuro We are glad to be able to
say few words Of praise. OF tho melody and
beauty Of many of Mr.. Sw1NBURNE's poems there
can be no question. "Dolores," "Hesperia," tho
s'Hymn Of Proserpinc, )" though mono of them are
free from tho taint Of the authors peculiar philoso-
ply, aro nevertheless almost perfect in rlythmical
structure, and abound in exquisite touches OF
poetic fancy. We will conclude this notice by
quoting graceful little poem entitled
AN INTERLUDE-
In ti,e greenest growth of the Maytime,
rode where the woods wet,
Between the dawn and the daytime
Tho spring was glad that We met.
There something tho season wanted,
Though the ways aud tho woods smelt sweet,
The breath at your lips that painted
The pulse OF the grass at your feet.
You ca1ne. and the sun came after,
And the flag g-howors hghtenot with inughter,
And the meadow-sweet shook with love.
sYour feet in the full grown grasses
Moved soft as o weak wind blows,
You passed me as April passes,
With face mado out of rose.
By tho stream where the stems were slender,
Your bright foot paused OF tho sedge;
1t might be to watch the tender
Light leaves In the spring-time hedge
On boughs that the sweet mouth blanches
| With howery frost of May;
It might be q bird in tho branches
might be thorn In the way.
Iwaited to watch you linger
With foot drawn back from the dow,
TIL sunbeam straight like finger,
Struck sharp through tho leaves at you.
| And bird overhead sang Follo,o.
And bird to the right sang Here;
| And the arch OF the leaves was hollow,
| And the meaning of May was clear.
saw where the sun's hand pointed
| ... = knew what the birds motto said
By tho dawn and the dew-fall anointed,
You were qncon by the gold on your head.
| AS tho glimpse of O burntout ember
Recalls O regret of the sun,
| remember, forget, and romembe.
What love saw done and undonc
| Iremember the day We parted,
The day md the way wc met
| You hoped we were both brokcn.hearted,
| And knew We should both forget
| And MAY with her world I'm flower
| Seemed still to murmur and smile,
| AS you murmurcd and smiled for an hour,
| L saw you turn at the stilc.
| A hand like a white ood-blossom,
| You lifted and wiived and passed,
| With head hung down to the bosom,
| And pale as It seemed ut Inst.
| And the best and the worst of this Is
| That neither is most to blame,
II you've forgotten my Kisses
And Two forgotten your name.