New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1871-02-14

/
That is the story OF old John Burns;
In fighting the battle, the question = whether
You II show a hat that IS white, or feather
The author of Episodes and Lyric Pieces ex-
hibits lively poetcal temperament in his versatile
fances and certain graceful facilfywith which he
uses natural images for the utternnce OF emotion
He is familiar with the powers OF language and
rhythm. but often appears 10 sport with their re-
sources as the player the harp who runs his fingers
idly over the cords of his instrument with no set pr
nose of producing a regular melody. His very ease
of execution becomes a snare 10 his performance. lie
seems 10 be content with the limpid flow OF musical
Numbers without striving after a firm basis III
thought or sentiment. His poetry strikes us as writ
ten from above of writing rather than rs the express
sion of an interior necessity. He seeks after mate
rails which shall be effective III the composition of
verse instead of making poetry the medium OF pas
sionate expression There is no lack of poetica form
| in his productions, but they do not show the
| inspiration of profound experience. With ms
! apparent susceptibility to the influences of
sympathy and nature, the author would
probably write better if he wrote less. He takes
too many subjects in hand which he dispatches with
a light and graceful touch, instead of aiming at
coneummate excellence in the finish Of a single
piece lie is almost always musical but it is the
! warbliDg of bird, rather than the singing OF an
artist His verses often lull the with their soft
seductive cadenccs, but rarely agtate the heart
! with thrills of emotion. In of the pieces, as
Vita Yitalis" for example, the sense is fairly
| lost sight of in the echo of plausible sounds The
| poems i'll the volume of classical origin betTay
| greater degree of ambition than of inspiration and
are less pleasing than those of more purely lyrical
| character. With the growth of experience. the
faults of the author will no doubt be toned down,
,t,,hac aha ffpl
promise if not firm assurance, for the future.
The collection of poems by the late Mr. Weir
Roose welt forms souvenir of distinguished public
citizen, and man of eminent personal worth, which
possesses peculiar interest foy large family circle
and many friends who cherish his memory with ad-
miration and love. As a member of the bar, Mr..
| Roosevelt attained no small distinction; he a
| lover of learning and study aud freely gave his
energies TO objects of public interest After the tolls
of active life. it was his habit to begue his leisure
hours with the composition of verses, of which spec
mems in various kinds given i'll the present vol
ume They are marked by warm social and domes-
tic feelings true sense of nature and the love of
| poetic contemplation. and are often enlivened by
vein of lambert wit. Without submitting them to the
test of any formal principles of art, the friends of the
| author viii welcome them expression of his
I character, and a tribute TO his memory.
! Dream Music consists chiefly Of illusions of ten
/ deness towards various beloved objects, with an
nndertOne of sadness called forth by reflection on
the mysteries Of life and the certainty of death.
They do not bring the reader into any bracing at
mOspbere of thought, and cannot be commended for
any tendency TO produce tirmness Of purpose,
| olute devotion TO duty. Nor are they SO charged
with the poetic spirit require the poetic form,
but might as well he expressed in prose, into which
! the author makes a natural descent towards the end
Of the volume.
1 1.-The Munitions of the Unseen by Miss Ingelow,
! is a narrative poem i'll blank verse relating the
/ pericnce of piOus clergyman, who having become
discouraged by the want of success in his spiritual
work, is treasured 10y vision from the world,
/ and returns To the performance of his duties with
! fresh resolution and hope. The conception of the
poem is, Of course of an ethical character but il
contains many descriptive passages Of great power,
and betrays profound sympathy with the subtle
forms al human suffering and experience The scene
of the cnrates labors presents picture of homely
wTetohedness that might have been drawn by the
! pencil Of Crabbe. II was an old English town the
trade Of which had fallen into decay and left the
I people with but seanty means Of subsistence Even
the sweet Summer air failed 10 reach the dark and
crowded alleys where they dvclt. As the good pas
I tor pursued his walks Of bcnevoence he saw moth
/ ing but the foul tenements which lowered toward
each other in grim forlornness. Reeking hills Of ref
use testered ~ the stagnant air. But he made no
account Of it. He had learned 10 take all wretcbed
ness fog granted Although he was reared in a
stainless home, and flushed with the ruddy health
OF English youth. he had learned TO kneel by the
side of miserable beds TO breathe the atmosphere
al fever and pestlence and TO listen to the language
of the lost in their nosome dens. But at length The
sight Of 40 much MISERY proved too much for him.
His heart had yearned till IL syerstrsined He
had struggled with the deep, deadly watets till his
own head bad gone under, He could no longer en-
joy The work which seemed TO bring no cleansing
help The only Iedeeming point in the scene was
found In his love of the little children. When he
heard their innocent prattle. and e their tender
voices lispipg sacred words, he was enabled TO take
rnmfori still. Dat be was appalled, by their early