New-York tribune., 1870-09-09

The beautiful Master
Drew the Veil;
Then starry, luminous,
Rolled the Veil of azure
Ger the first dwellings
OF mortal race;
And since the beginning
No mortal vision,
Pure SHINING,
Hath seen the Face"
"Tne Dream of the World without Death" is the
most striking poem in The Book of Orm, and, if the
conception be original with Mr.. Buchanan, it makes
us think more highly of his invention than anything
we have ever seen from his pen He imagines time
in the future when shall longer die as at pres
ent leaving our bodies to be wept over and buried
by those who love us, but when we shall disappear
in a moment to the unutterable anguish of those
who remain. 1t is strange conception, and Mr.
Buchanans treatment of it is crediable to his taste.
Here is its most pathetic PASSAGE
"NOw at the bottom of a snowy mountain
came upon "a woman thin with sorrow,
Whose voice was like the crying of sea-gul,
Saying, % Angel Of the Lord, come hither,
And bring me him seek for on thy bosom,
That l may close his eyehds and embrace him.
curse thee that cannot look upon himl
curse thee that know not he is sleeping
Yet know that he has vanished upon GOD
/ laid my little girl upon wood-bier
And very sweet she seemed, and near unto me;
And slipping flowers into her shrOud was comfort.
Iput my silver mother in the darkness,
kissed her and was solaced by her kisses,
And green, green the quiet sleeping-places,
So green that IL was pleasant 10 remember
That and my tall man would sleep beside them.
The closing of dead eyelids is not dreadful,
For comfort comes upon us when we close them,
And tears fall, and our sorrow grows familiar;
And we can sit above them where they sumber,
And spin dreamy pain into sweetness,
And know indeed that we are very near tben.
But to reach out empty arms is surely dreadful,
And to feel the hollow empty world Is awful
And bitter grew the silence and the distance.
There no for or gevng g or e for TefRns
And nothing but horror and blackness!'"
Very touching is this episode, in which mother
loses her little son:
"I sought him in the sunlight and the starlight,
sought him IN great forests, and in waters
Where saw mine own pale image looking at me.
And forgot my little hrght-haired daughter,
Though her voice was like wild bird star behind me,
Till the voice ceased, and the universe silent.
And Silly in the starlight, came backward
To the forest where missed him; and no voices
Brake the stiffness as stopped down in the starlight,
And saw two little shoes filed up with dew,
And no mark OF little footsteps any farther,
And knew my little daughter had gone also"
The most satisfactory portion of Mr.. Buchanan's
volume, as poetry and the most unsatisfactory, as
thought is the section headed Corrusken Sonnets' -
which, by the way not sonnets at all. Here is a
strange, sick fancy:
WHEN WE ARE ALL ASLEEP.
When He returns and finds all sleeping here
viii He stOop down and whisper in each ear
Awaken !' or FOR PHYS sake forbear-
Saying, " How shall / meet their frozen stare
OF wonder, and their eyes 80 wOcbegonei
How shall comfort them in their despair,
II they cry out too late let us sleep OnP"
Perchance He will not wake us up. but when
He look so happy in rest,
Will muTmur, /" Poor dead women and dead men!
Dire was their doom, and weary was their quest
Wherefore awake them unto life againl
Let them sleep on untroubed-itis is best"
Drearier and more dreadful is this
COULD GOD BE JUDGED
Can be calm behOding everywhere
Disease and Anguish busy early and atei
Can be silent, nor compassionate
The evils that both Soul and Body bearf
O what have sickly Children done, TO share
Thy cup Of sOrrOwsl vet their dun sad pain
Makes the earth awful ;-On the tOmbs dark stair
Moan Idiots, with no glimmer in the brain.
No sbriI Priest with his hang1nan's cord can beat
Thy mercy into these-ah nay, ah nay!
The Angels thou has sent 10 haunt the street
Are Hunger and Distortion and Decay
Lord that mad II Man, and sends him foes 40 feet
Who shall judge Thee upon Thy judgment-dayl
Most men, we suppose, have their moments of
doubt in which such thoughts these steal into the
darkened chambers of the brain, but they shrink
from babbling about them in the market place. And
they are wise in so doing-much wiser than Mr..
Buchanan, whose Book of 0rm /" has little poeti-
CAL and less Intellectual excuse for its being Lord
keep my memory greenr was the prayer of Dickens's
Haunted Man, and good one it is but not SO good as
the one which rises spontaneously to lips as we
close Mr.. Buchanans volume: Lord keep our minds
healthy!
Macmillan d Co. have in preparation Tales
Of Old Japan, translated with copious explanatory in
Productions and comments by Capt. A. b. Milford, whose
intimate knowledge Of the literature and customs Of the
japanese gathered during his three years residence "a
attache to the British Embassy Yeddo is well known
An interesting feature OF this will be the ustra-
lonesome 40 fullpag bOcEs-as they have been drawn
and engraved on wood, for Mr. Milford Japan By