The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1877-11-10

land,
Whose pure, sweet rays, flooding the
hearts OF men,
| Will wash away the stains OF false belief,
And leave the truths, inherent IN man. 5
breast,
Faith, worship, venerauOn, homage,
trust,
Cleared of the paintings OF idolatry,
! To shine OF their swn crystal purity,
More beautiful than any artist Uniting
lmaginauOn's touch can put them on.
H5re VIII we raise our church upon the
OF Odin's broken affairs, and the ruins
OF an old faith shall serve To build the
For Truth sits ever on a past untruth,
More glorious than the thing she over
Was once deemed glorious"
The author, BY putting his language
into the months of "those strange, wild
figures which those old times Aedged," +"
snd whose weird shaped spectres arise
out of the old records OF twelve centuries
ago, has only reminded us that in the
religious, as well as secular world there
SIS no new thing Under the sun, and
That the arguments used in the religious
controversies of this age are but the repe-
titlon of those employed in that period
which reaches back to the dim and
cloudy edge of history
Strong personal feeling and tender
poetic sentiment are found throughout
the poem. The virtuous graces and ten
der devotion of the maiden captive
ENID, are exquisitely portrayed. There
ls nothing in this vein which can excel
the magic influence of womsn's artless
power, as pictured in the confession of
PILLITUs, whose trade was In probing
human hearts, yet feels his own longing
for the captive maiden until he is forced
| like u
-"Senseless fool
| To cry like poor baby for the moon
| Out of It's reach.
HereIs MS soliloquy:
- "PrinceSs Enid
| Have indeed spent ali my lie tor this:
| 10 be as tOOllSll dN ma DttlutNl y OulL
| My toiling feet have traversed distant
lands;
NV thoughts considered old PHILOSOPHERS
| Of the dead Greek, OF Egypt's older priest
The lore of Brahmin and the imagery
| OF PerSia's wealth OF tervent mysticism,
That, ont OF all, might raise up god
Unto my soul, the power OF intellect;
Now must cast that symbol from It's place
! To set upon its pedestal Il shape
- o. IA nffnu mi ~ hi n
Arched brows, bright golden hair OF fair
woman,
Smooth cheeks of beauty, rosy-tinted like
A lily blooming in the shade, but touched
BY sunlight peeping through the lea1y
And painted with flush red!
Twas Helen's beauty broke the walls of
Troy,
Peleus!
Here in this island Cymrian Merlin fell
By WOmau'S art-lured by her beauty fell; (;
An age OF wisdom sunk in the short hour
He took the soft enchsntress to his heart!
U, there was wiser thought in the Greek
That fastened round fair Venus slender
waist
Her cestus than my cold philosophy hath
deemed"
The poem is lacking in humor, but
that Is not so remarkable, and indeed is
hardly fair criticism to make, for no one
except the great SHAKESPEARE, has ever
succeeded in perfectly bringing out the
broad and quaint bumOr of those olden
times.
In the fifth act of the drama there is
drawn a picture of Lite, which is alts.
gether grand and delicate enough for
SHAKESPEARE himself:
sOh king, this life OF man is a strange
marvel,
Amid the whirl OF days that bear us on
Through ruined years, events leap up and
10 othiSts life" but while we listen each
Wild cry grows faint, and dies. We seek
to look
Beyond the present, peer with curious eyes
Among vast shadows; but, beholding
Ponder In pictures of an endless time
Stretching-we know not where. From
such huge shapes
Turning OeWlldered, we come back again
70 our Today, nor less bewildeTed, ask,
What l. this lite"' y, King, IL is ii scene
In your greathall at the mid winter feast
From a heaped pile OF burning logs the
name
ROars Sn the chimney; cheered by genial
warmth
Sit king and queen, your theryns and
ealdOrmen;
Here there is light and heat, but out of
doors
The fierce storm raves, and whirled by
bowling winds
The snow drives wildly to the snow piled
earth.
Lo! through the door-opened by careless
groom
To note if winds abate-tiies IN a bird,
\ waif Of nature, homeless in the storm.
With tTighted wing II circles round the
hall,
But quick is gone again into the night,
Through the rent case ment's gap gone into
the night,
And seen no more. This sparrow is mans
life,
While it is here it feels not freezing winds
Dash storm and darkness on It's weary
breast;
The blazing fire is flashing in its eyes,
And warmth and comfort rather mock its
flight
Than mark its stay, while fear and destiny
hurry ii forth into the stormy night
Where IL is lost. We saw ii here thing
Little TO us but TO its own scared heart
\ mystery OF greatness. Whence II came,
Or whittier gone, We scarcely may con-
lecture;
Out OF the black, tempestuops night it
came,
And hack returned moment huttering
And then no more. Though doubtless ere
IL came.
1t had history, and atterward
A tate accom- plished in the hoN ling night.
YET what they W ere We know not. This is
life;