New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1872-03-05
THE sANDPIPER.

sASDPIPER.
Across the narrow beach we fit,
One little sandpiper and ].
And fast l gather, bit by Bit
The scattered driftwOOd bleached and dry.
The wild waves reach their hands Tor II,
The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,
As up and down the beach we nit,-
One little sandpiper and l.
Above our heads the sullen clouds
Scud black and swift across the sky;
Stand out the white lighthouses high.
Almost as far as eye can reach
/ see the close rcefcd vessels lily,
As fast fit along the beach,
One little sandpiper and l.
watch him as he skins along
Utterng his sweet and mOurnful cry.
or flash Of futtering drapery.
He has no thought of any wrong;
He scans me with fearless eye ..u
Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong
The little sandpiper and l.
Comrade. where wilt thou be tonight
When the loosed storm breaks furiouslyt
My driftwOod fire will burn so bright!
To what warm shelter canst thou Gyi
do not fear for thee, though wrOth
The tempest PUSHES through the SKY:
For are we not Gods children both,
Thou, little sandpper, and II
The following expression of sorrow for the dead,
with its fine and subtle touches, will be recognize
as a rare combination of delicacy and pathos.
REGRET.
Softly Death touched her, and she passed away
Out Of this glad bright world she made more fair,
Sweet the appe-bOssOms, when In May
The orchards flush, OF Summer grown aware.
All that fresh delicate beauty gone from sight,
That gentle, gracious presence felt no more !
How must the house be emptied OF delight,
What shadows on the threshold she passed Ger
She loved me. Surely was grateful, yet
could not give her back al she gave me-
Ever think OF II with vague regret
Musing upon Summer by the sea:
Remembering troops Of merry girls who pressed
About me-clnRing arms and tender eyes,
And love, like scent OF roses. With the rest
She came, TO I'LL my heart with new surprise.
The day left them all, and sailed away,
While DER the calm sea, meath the soft gray sky
They waved farewell, she followed me, 10 say
Yet again her wistfu, sweet goodbye"
AT the boats bow she dropped her light green dress
Her glowing face. bright with mute caress,
Crowned with her lovely hair OF shadowy gold:
And tears she dropped into the crystal brine
For me, unworthy-as we slowly swung
Free Of the mOOring. Her last look mine,
Seeking me still the motley crowd among.
tender memory Of the dead I.hold
So precious through the fret aud change OF years
Were to live till Time itself grew old,
The SAD sea would be sadder for those tears.
Mr.. Brinckles volume indicates less poetical genius
than literary culture. His poems include literal
translation of the "Antigone" Of Sophocles. and
several of them have been suggested by scenes in
European travel. He makes several novel experi-
ments in yeIsfcation, which are more bold than suc-
cessfu and his attempts at humOr are usually worse
than fOrlOTn.
The Legends aud Lyrics" by Mr.. Hayne are for
the most part ambitious In conception, and elabo-
rate in execution Several Of them are on classical
themes which are treated with certain graceful dig
nifty, but show little Of the fire of inspiration Mr.
Haynes verse is usually polished, and often musical
but the effect impaired by the frequent selection
# epthets Of prosaic character with no hut Of