The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1866-10-17
Poems or CITY LIFE,


Inc poet Robert Buchanan, delving in the
'slums" of the English capital in search Of the
| poetry which exists even in such vile places,
mas produced volumn which he calls "LondoD
| Poems." 1t is published in London by Alexan-
der Strahan. The London Spectator, whose
concentrations are echoed by the other Eng
llsh journals, speaks Of the poems as "a unique
mixture OF city-lie realism with lyrical beauty" !"
and adds:-"There is nothing 6ner in these
than the strength with which Mr.. Buchanan
| combines what Wordsworth called the power
of hills with the power of cities. Those who
feel the one often feel the other. Words worth
himself did so, as he showed in the exquisite
| sonnet written on Westminster Bridge. But
rarely indeed has the same man the faculty Of
| giving voice to both The great feature In the
most striking of these poems-Liz' and 'Nell'-
Is the force with which both Of them express
the peculiar and mighty attraction OF great
| city-London most OF all great ciies-for those
who have become familiar with it,"
'Lzn is a Londoner, and her simple story of
evil life wrought out through ignorance and
poverty but redeemed by the woman's nature
is an exquisite painting of London life and
London habits among the poor. Joe has beaten
her and neglected her, and she is dying, leaving
a baby to his care The close is pathetic:-
There's Joe hear his foot upon the stairs
de must be wet, poor lad
He will be angry, like enough to find
Another little life to ciothe and keep.
But show him baby, Parson-speak him kind
Ana tell him Doctor thinks I'm going to sleep
ha1d, hard life IS his He need be strong
And rough, TO earn his bread and get along,
think he will be sorry when go,
And leave the little one and him behind
hope bell see another to his mind
To Keep him straight and tidy. Poor old Joe I"
In the poem called NELL" Mr.. Buchanan
pictures the craving for the stimulus OF country
LIE which comes upon poor woman born and
bred in crowded steeets, and the awe with
which Nature strikes herr
NELL.
'For l was sick of hunger, cold and
strife "A'
And took a sudden fancy in my head
To try the country, and to earn my bread
Out among the fields, where had heard ones
Was easier and brighter. So. that day
l took my basket up and stole way,
just after sunrise. As went along
Trembling aud 10th to leave the busy place,
telt that was ing something wrong
And fear'd 10 look policemen in the face
And all was dim; the streets were grey and wet
After rainy night; aud all was still.
held my shawl around me with chill
And dropt my eyes from every face met
Until the streets began to fade, the road
Grew fresh and clean and wlde
Fine houses where the gentleiolk abode,
~, And gardens full OF flowers, on every side,
That made me walk on quicker-on, on on
AS II were asleep with halt-shut eyes
m And all at once saw, TO my surprise,
The houses of the gentlefolk were gone,
And was standing sull,
Shading my face, upon high green hill
And the bright sun was blazing
And all the blue above me seem ID to melt
To burning, flashing god while was gazing
On the great smoky cloud where had dwelt.
Al,
And strange. Upon the grass around my feet
The rain had hung a million drops of light.
The air, too, Was so clear and warm and sweet
1t seemed a sin to breathe il. All around
Were Mills and fields and trees that trembled
through
A burning, Glazing fire of gold and blue;
Ano there was not sound
Save a bird sineing in the skies
And the soft vino, that ran along the ground,
And blew full sweetly on my lips and eyes.
Then, with my, heavy hand upon my chest,
Because the bright ar paln'd me, trembling,
signing,
I stole into a dewy field to rest.
Ano oh, the green, green grass where l was
Was fresh and living: and the bird sang loud
Out OF golden cloud,
And was looking up at him and crying.
Chow swift the hours slipt on And by-and-by
The sun grew red, big shadows fll'd the sky.
The air grew damp with dew,
And the dark night was coming down. knew.
Wei, was more afraid than ever, then
And 1elt that l should die in such place
So back TO London town turn'd my face,
And crept into the great black streets again:
And when breathed the smoke and heard the
roar,
Why, was better, for in London here
My heart was busy, 9nd felt no fear
81 never saw the country any more.
And have'stay'd In London, well or ill
would not stay out yonder If could
For one feels dead, and all looks pure and
good
[ could not bear life so bright and still
All that want is sleep.
Under the tlaes and stones, so deep, so deep!
God won't be hard on one so mean, but He,
Perhaps, Will let a tired Girl slumber sound
There In the deep, cold darkness under ground;
And shall waken up in time, may be,
Better and stronger, not AFRAID to see
The great still Light that folds HIM round and
round ~
THE Startling" is in another yein:-
THE STARTLING. L
+" A" "a haggard and ruftled .
Old fellow was Jack,
With grim face muiled
In ragged black,
And his coat was rusty
Ana never neat,
And his wings were dusty
From the dismal street,
And he sideong peer'd,
With eyes of SCOT too,
And scoWl'd and sneer'd,
And was lame OF a foot too
And he long'd TO go
From whence he came;
And the tailor, you know,
Was Just the same
All kinds of weather
They felt confined
And swore together
AT all mankind;
For their mirth was done.
And they felt like brothers.
And the swearing OF ore
Meant no more than the others:
a nFnU