New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1866-10-04

| Nv dreams of her bright eyes;
| So long and weary, dark and dleary,
The years IN dust she les'
Tie sunlight sits IN shadow
Thenigh is m ebOn pail
The world he wrOngethl TO death neiongeh
80 letiim take il all!
Gonei and memory half forges
The music. of her voice, 80, ,,,
! But al thingc sadden, which erst did gladder.
And weep which did rejoice
! tx dream r5ess to its foll
| The world he wrongcth, 10 death Belonged
| SO 10! him t.sc II all!
/ And here is another worthy to be its companion,
even more subtle and exquisite. We know lew
poems of equal bregity and beauty.
IT 1naHI lave BEEN.
| MY wasted checks arc wet
With toaw of VAN regret
For all l sboVld remember not
And all would forget
On how shan these lyenge US
With look word er kiss;
For al the bliss that might have been,
And all the pain tlI. is
Still another that strikes ms almost equally e en-
Qlete is song that sings It's own sad, but
music:
Let forget the promi.e Of = morrow o. , nav cot,
Which cb 100 wei we k k ~ EiVoln o may ''''
1ft Us u osss 1e sSPS .-o g' O'' '''
Let us forget the iciters that we bear;
Let Us forget the csnker and lie het
Oh Let WHO viii Yemcmbeg-Temember,
let us foTget-lct us forget
Let ns forget the friends who have deceived rs;
Let forget the loves that wake regret
And al that Oafted rs and on tina; sIle'ed u.s.
Let Us forget todoy and yesterday
Let Us forget The canker and the net
Oh Let who viii yemembcr--remeEber,
Let US forget-let rs forget!
"Jannhauser' is Lallad-yersion, simple and va.
RED of q story well known. 1.-The River OF Tears
has, like SO many of Mr.. Dorgan's poems, melan-
choly charm:
"A poet in his eilded boat
Floats adown the river Of tears;
Through regions Of fantastic fears;
~ exile rom What happier spnet.h
An orphan Of what GOLDEN years.
1.-THE Iron Harp" sounds as if struck by raster
hand
Saga words sublime
OF musAct and Of sword.
Who would our iron age compel
Loudly must lie sing and well
To roH harp with iron sword
"The Death Bed" ia remarkable, but too long 70
quote " The Stars, one OF Mr.. DoTgans very pest
poems has true sUblimity:
TIE STARS.
on swift and prondw cried alond
With breaking heart in tones iorlorn,
BY the solemn songs ye sing
~ life aud death and love their hing,
conure pc 10 answer ne
The night is long; when comes the morn
And sang the stars in deeps Of heaven,
With voices ul Of stately scOrn
How shall we answer thee who move
In regions Thy pale sphere aboyel
What is life and what Is death,
We dwell in light and day or night
We know not-know not eve or morn
The lines "To Earthly Beauty" lead us to a sadly
| inevitable query:
Think not that time shall spare thee
Thy Ovelness shall cease and none remember
How beautiful and bright thou vast OF Old
Who shall believe thy story,
That rheumy eyes were bright WIN love inpasslo1eu
That shriyeled lips sweet with burning song T.
| The anti-Slavery cause, which inspired so many
earnest men, has left its impression in the record OF
| Mr.. DOrgan's best experience. Three noble poems
entitled 1.-THE Martyr " Meme Meme :" and ''The
~ al Y
effort that the poet does not necessarily degrade or
ALLEVIATE his muse by serving man and freedom. In
one of them the poet declares that
q God remains Away; and to the tr5th
Shall INCENSE stream from mHny grinder fare
And in the binding glory of her youth
Freedom shall Use again
And no poet has said more eloquently that
Though fallen on stricken fields they lie
On blacken on the gallows' tree,
Freedom, thy dead oan never die ILL.,
Because they died for thee rzgS
Or paid nOber tribute to the pure heroism Of the
martyr, John Brown: ."
II klEgy soul amid our dearth
OF thought and deed
ais faith sublime grown blind to time
BY gazing eternity
We shall quote the whole of the splendid inysctiys
| entitled
THE srArrsNAs.
Say shall his memory lie In state
\ A thing OF reverence aud awe
w" %b SS Sn sI,l no law s''''-
| Save that his pride uprcared-who sold
To sin the power that wisdom brings
| The sceper mightier than kings
For praise and gold
| No Yet the humber felon go,
\ But stiI He hves-the god like TIRE
OF that great soul though dim and low,
And let the expiration be-
| Even as the crime immortal Is
| The Grave may not, for sin Ike his
Be sanctuary
BY an the evil that he did
| BY all the good be left undone-
By all the glory that he hid
l The shame he
The indignation Of his verse
| On him let the true poet wreak-
OF him the Just historian speak,
And speak curse!
1 We hAvs been tempted to borrow largely from Mr..
Dorgan's book but have selected only fraction Of
TIA yalue We conclude our quotations with an
/ extract from The Rest Of Boodh" the last and in
many respects the best and broadcast poem Of the
4 volume:
/ The rest Of Boob, To Time the eternal bear,
| A harp Of silence It's music wakes
| The graves grow green in which We laid With team
l Our dearest, and ourfaees grief toTsakes
| Listen the poets song dies unawares;
Behold the cOnQuerOr arch asunder bTeakai
/ And 10 the strains OF that Lethesn Tyre
| Our rapture like our anguish shall expire
That vhirl of thrilling passion joy and pain,
1 would not wish again;
I Yet would not lose the dreary wisdom
4 IN the life which is done
| The calm OF high heroic hearts outworn
With victory fOflOrn
1would moi yield to death the poet mood
1 Which peoples every solitude,
4 Tie power born OF wrong
\ Which hghtcns in N song;
Unchanged and changeless, yet no more the same,
| Apart fon all and yc, Of all a part
/ In the decp peace Of the eternal heart
l Lot me abide with those who
From earth and all its phantoms many lined
! Absorbed Into the eoloriess rest OF BOOdh
| The stainless painless pasSionless rest Of Boodhl
| There Is no evil aud there is good,
Nor life nor death nor time, nor space nor aagas