The Osceola times., 1883-08-25
swINBURNE's NEW VOLUME.
London Times.

MIR. Swinburn is losing much of his
early efiloresence, and is giving us more
of the poetic fruit. In his recent volu
mes there was notable development in
this respect, and is continued in the
work ["A Century of Roundels"l The
volume opens with graceful dedication
to Miss Christina Rossetti, and after this
perhaps, the first of the opening round
els, entitled an Herbor," will afford as
good an example as can be found in the
a lthor's melodious versification aud
command over this peculiar poetic me-
dium:
Good night and good bye to the life whose signs
denote us
As mourners clothed with regret for the life gone
by, l
spring float us
Good night and good bye.
"a time is for mourning, a season for grief to
But we are no, fools ard blind, by day to devote
As thralls to the darkness, unseen Of the sun
dawn's eye?
We hovc drunken of Ls.he a. length we have
eaten of lo,us;
What hurts It us here that sorrows are born and
die?
We have said TO the dream that cares ed and the
dread that smoteus .ffs
Good night and good bye"
But, perhaps, by nothing in this vo-
lume has the poet laid the world under
obligation so much as by the series of
roundels entitled "A Baby's Death"
The beautiful, mystical idea more happi-
ly expressed than they are here. We
shall quote two of the poems, and the
second of these will remind the reader
of Coleridge's exquisite epitaph on an
infant:
"rhe lit e eyes that never knew
l. ght other than of dawning skies,
wha, new liIe now lights up anew
The little eyes?
"Who knows but on their sleep may rise
Such light as never heaven let through
10 tighten earth from paradise?
"So storm, we know, may change the blue
soft heaven that hap.y death describes
80 tears, like these in ours, bedew
The little eyes.
"Angel by ns.ne love called hun, seeing so fair
A The sweet small frame; g,
Meet to be called, ii ever mans child weie,
~r Angel by name"
RISE bright and warm from heavens own heart
r. ne came.
And might not bear
The cloud that covers earth's wan face with
shame
"Ius little light of life was all tco rare
And son flame;
II ,aven yearAed for him til angels hailed him
there .....
Angel by name"
Some years ago, by such poems as
''rhe Child's Song in Winter" Mr.. Swim
burne proved that he was keenly sensi-
tive upon the subject Of the child nature
and he has in his present volume no
fewer than five series of poems dealing
with the various aspects of childhood.
They are by no means the least remarka-
bic things in the collection. One or two
extracts must be added to those already
given from one of these sections. First
take these lines, "Etudc Realistic" and
note how daintily the conceit is wrought
ont:
| A baby S feet like sea-shells pink,
Might tempt, should heaven see meet,
An angels lips to kiss. we think,
A baby's feet.
| Like sehued sea flowers, toward the heat,
| They stretch and spread and wink
Their ten soft buds that part and meet.
No flower bglls that expand and shrink
Clean half 50 heavenly sweet
| Al shine on lifc's untroddeu brink
A hsby's feet.
Here is another idea, and it is the con.
spicuous merit of the rounded that one
idea should De played upon all through
IAN heaven IN every taby born,
All absolute of earthly leaveu
Reveals itself though man may scorn
All heaven.
Yet man might feel all sin forgiven,
All grief appessed, all pain on worm
By this enc revelation given
soul, now forget thy burdens borne
Heart, be thy joys now seven times;
Love shows In light more bright than morn
An heaven