New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1881-10-09

destroy them. In the endeav0r To give clrcnmstan-
tal form. to abstract idea. purposey made the
supposed external accom- panments of internal
event as mundane, modern and commonplace as
possible 1t seemed to that the more abstract
the subject the plastic should be the form Of
the poem. What it describes is train of associa-
tions started by a strain OF music aud the common
character OF the emotional experience thus de-
scrlbed, suggested the familiar character OF tho
scenery employed for the illustration OF TIA To-
cality familiar to all, common social amusement,
a well-known place OF resort, popular opera add
q popular singer Ii is presumably easier for tho
Imagination OF the reader or the audience 10 feel az
home in such surroundings than amongst he images
more remote from everyday life which Poetry
often employs for the illustration OF sentiment And
the discussion mentioned in your letter IS proof
hope, that this method has succeeded III rendering
the narrative sufficiently lifelike to suggest vague
curiosity about what 1t leaves unexplained aud
disposition TO reconcile with the conditions OF pos
slnty statements which are only trne IN SO Tar as
they truthiully state in hguratiye terms an emo
or recognizes which he is capable of feeling,
under easily conceivable conditions.
am, sir, your obedient servant.
This is the poem which Is the subject Of Lord
Lytton's interesting letter.
AUX TTALIENs
At Paris it was at the Opera there -:
And she looked like queen in book, that night.
With the wreath OF pearl IN her raven halr,
And the brooch on her breast. so bright
Of all the operas that Verdi wrote,
The best, to my taste is the Trovatora;
And Mario sOothe with tenor note
The souls in Purgatory.
The moon on the tower slept soft as snow:
And who was not thrilled in the straagest way
As we heard him sing, while the gas buried low,
Mon Sc0rddr III meY
The Emperor there, in his box of state
Looked grave, as if he had just then seen
The red flag wave from the city-gate,
Where bis eagles ID bronze had been.
The Empress, too, had tear in her eye.
You'd have said that her fancy had gone back.
again,
Ear un1a tba oil sl.v
To the old glad life in SPAIN
Well there in our front row box We sat-
.Toge her, my brde-betrothed and |;
My gaze was fixed on my opera-hat,
And hers on the stage hard by.
And both were silent, aud both were sad.
Like queen, she leaned on her full white arm,
With that regal, INDECENT air she had
So confident of her charm
have not doubt she was thinking then
OF her former lord. good soul that he was!
Who died the richest and roundest of men.
The Marquis of Carabas
hope that to get to the kingdom Of heaven,
Through needles eye he had not to pass.
| wish HIM well, for the jointurc given
To my lady OF Carabas.
Meanwhile was thinking of my first love,
As had not been thinking of aught for years,
Till over my eyes there began to move
Something that felt like tears.
thought of the dress that she wore last time,
When we stood, meath the cypress-trees together,
In that lost land, i'll that soft cline,
In the crimson evening weather:
Of that muslin dress flor the eve WAS hOtl,
And her warm white neck IN It's golden chain
And her full, soft hair, just tied In a Knot,
And failing loose again:
And the jaarnin- flower in her fair Young breast
20 the faint. sweet smell of that iasmn iower9
And the one bird singing alone To Ills nest
And the one star over the lower
I thought of orr little quarres and stT;fe
And the letter that brought me back my nng'
And 10 all seemed then, in the waste oil lie,
Such very little thIngl
For thought OF her grave below the hill,
Which the sen nci cy pTeSs- tree Stands over.
Aud.I Thought" were she only living, stu,
How could forgive her, and love hcrF
And swear, as | thought Of her thus in that hour.
| That ] smell the smell of that IaSmin-iloHer,
Which she iIsa'd la wear III her breast
1t smelt 80 faint, and 1t smct So sweet,
II made creep, and 10 made me cold!
Like the scent that steals from the crunblng sheeu
Where Z mummy is half unrolIed.
And turned, and looked. She was sitting there
In dim box over the rtS S' iSst nn soft hair
| And that iasmin III her breast
| | was here : and she was there:
| And the gttcring horseshoe curved between -
| From NV hride-betrothed. with her raven hair,
Aud her SumptuOus, scornful nicn
To my early love. with her eyes downcast,
| And over her primrose face the slIie,
| On short from the Future back 10 the PAST
| There was but step To be- made
| To nv early love from my future bride
| One moment looked. Then stole to the door,
| | traverscd the passage: and down at hor side,
| was sitting moment more
| NV thinking of her, or the muSic'S strain,
| Or something which never will he eZprest,
! Had brought her back from the grave again,
| With the i.tsuIin IN her breast.
| She is not dead and she is NOT wed
But she loves me now and she loved ne thenl
And the very first word that her sweet Ups SAID,
| My heart grew youthful agalu
| The MarchionesS there of CarabaS, 80,
| She is .altiy, and young and nan 'usone sthi,
| And but for her,. well, wen let that pass
| She may marry whomever she Will
But will marry my own first love,
| With her primrose face for old things are DeSt,
| And the flower in her BOSOM prize II above
| The brooch in my ladys breast.
The world is filed with Jolly and sin.
| And Love must cling where 1t can, say;
! Fer Beauty is easy enough to win;
| But one isn't loved every day.
| Ard I think i'm the lives of most women and men,
| There's moment when all would % smooth ana
| even
r. only the dead could find ont when
| To come back and be forgiven.
| Rut O the smell of that jasmin flower!
| And q that music and . the way
That voice rang out from tho donjou tower
! Non Il SoOrddr n me.
| Non Ii ScOrldr Ill ne!
| GARFIELDS ENERGY md PRECEPIION