New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1877-03-17

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Fly, ant all creatures die, and nausht can s''s
The consultations all.
Tho starry ship. high In the etber-sea,
Must slit and wreck in the end THIS thing shall be
The hroad-ringci Saturn toss
To ruin ; Sirius touched by me, decay
As tine small boat from ithaca away
That steers to Kalymnos
Then follows "The Poet to tho Earth-Worm,' ana
among other irrelevant matter, " the fyreneah
Cylcp Of romantic legends. We viii pass all these
nv ~ Of lesser interest, and pause at the most
charming norton Of the whole work, which the
author calls a Group Of Idyis." They are ~ III
number beginning with Orphcus and ending Win
Andre Ch6nipr. They have but the roInotest con-
urcti0n with the plan Of the work: some OF theh
seem singuarly out of place, as Arisophanes Dah'e
Shakespeare, Dider0t, and Noltaifc' ana We
are greatly surprised TO find in this illus
trious company Racln, page OF Henri ".
and runil of Malcsherlcs Chaulieu, who was called
the French Anacreon in his day, but died young, and
Seprais. of whom the world knows yally nothing
The attempt TO force this list upon us as that OF the
tvpcal idyiss Of the world Of that be the authors
rcauipaA proyokcs a feeling of resentment. lie
world is growing zoo intelligent to accept The dcta
tiou Of any eccentric individual taste. But some OF
the short poems in this group are very striking.
Take the following as a specimen:
SOLOMON.
lam the king who mystic power commanded;
Ibuilt the Temple, ruined towns supreme;
Hiram, my architect, and CharOs. ny right-handed,
Still here beside me dream.
One "a a trowel one rs sword, was Given
| let them plan, and what they did was well:
NV breath mounts higher, nearer unto heaven
Than Libyan whirlwinds SWELL
God sometimes feels it, Child Of guilty kisses,
Vast gloomy is my wisdom: demons stun
To take between high Heaven and their aoysscs,
A judge but Solomon.
Inako men tremble, and believe my story;
Conquerng, thcy hail and follow to my least:
As king, I bear down mortals with the glory,
And with the gloom, priest.
Mine was Of fesals and Of cup, the vision,
The finger writing Meme Tche! tnen,
And war, and charotS c!aI1ons, and collision
OF horses and OF men.
Grand as some sullen IDOLS form discloses,
Mrs crious as q gardens closed retreat,
Yet though ! be mighty than the roses
In moons OF May are sweet
Take from me scepter with the bright gold laden
NV throne, the archer my tower above
But men shall never take o sweet young maiden,
From cut my heart its love!
Men shall not take the love, o virgin purest,
That as in fountains beams to mirror thee,
More than from out the darkness OF the forest
Tie songbird's minstrelsy
Still more satisfactory is this, wherein tie entire
freedom Of the poets imagination is characterized
by an exquisite grace:
MOsCHUs.
Battle yc o Nymphs, in the cool forest-springs
Although the hicket with duh voices rings.
And in its rocks the eagle, nest finds place,
Twas nccr invaded by sach gathering gloom
,rf.1I ,,t,.pr
To nude NcHra's grace.
Fair is Ne;pra, purc, and glimmcrs white,
Transparent, through the forests horlent night;
An echo dialogues with one afar
Gos.ips hive with flowers upon The lcas,-
What says the echo l-what the wandering bees
She, naked, a star!
For when thou batlcst, starry splcndor falls,
Cbaste one. thee with vague fear That appals
Ard bcauty's boldue,s ever must imbue:
In shades where eye OF ardent fiIm peers now,
TO show thee woman.-knowest, Nynra, thou,-
Shows thee rs goddess too!
Though man he darlened by tie high Kings power
Above my head here have built bower
With boughs OF elm and boughs Of holly green;
] love the meadows, woods, the unfettered air
Eoara. PhyllOdoXis, and the fair
Fond dyls strain serene.
Though here where sleep sometimes lid may ill,
The distant thundcfS stray 1lon M 10 hllI,-
Though spectral lightning, here forever shoot
Aud the Sky thTeatens-as we pace along
l. it forbid to dream, or hear the song,
Bctwixt the thundcrs OF a 1utei
OF the remaining poems, "The Cemetery of
Eylau' is much the best. Ii is story of the
Napolconic wars told with all the yigor and keen
dramatic effect which Victor Hugo knows well
how 20 use. The volume contains also bittcrpo
OH Napoleon ILL.,. episodes of the Commune, and the
deep-mouthed painting after rerGache! which Victor
Hugo, Burgundan land therefore ancient German)
in blood, dare not omt-for, if he did, nc might be
consistent in his theories of humanity.
The concluding poem is called Abyss" Man
speaks first, then the Earth, and after the bright
joyous hymn with which the work opens we are
amazed TO hear her thus speaking to the human
racc-which We were led 10 believe she loved:
"Ony INV verunin, thou!
Sleep, heavy need, fever and subtitle fire,
The crawling belly, hunger, thirst, vile paunch,
Weigh thee, black fugitive. with unnumbered ills.
Old, thou TT but specer, dead thou art but shade:
Thou goest to ashes exist in day"
Saturn, the Sun, Sirius, Adebaran. the Comet,
Ursa Major the Zodiac, the Milky Way. tho Nebulie,
then speak-but we do not find their messages either
so sublime mysterious as their titles At the
last, the Infinite" utters this line:
Multiplied Efe inhabits my somber unity.
And "Dcu responds
have but 10 breathe, and all were dark
If there any distinctly announced message Of
hope to mankind in this Legend Of the Ages" we
should rejoice to give it. There are manifold-aud,
we will not doubt, very sincere-tokcns of sympathy
with human suffering and weakness; of broad,
generous disregard of titles, renowns and accepted
values in History. We could feel these qualities
more deeply, and acknowledge them more CRATE
fully, if they did not cocxst with the evidence of
restricting prejudice, singular apses of knowledge,