Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1888-05-05
DRIFT.

There ,s as much poetry, true poetical sense |
and taste for instance, In the title OF Mr..
Loweirs recent volume OF poetry, "Hearts.
case and Rue " a. In any OF the poems In |
side and for that matter, there is poetry |
also In the mechanical make up OF that |
volume, ono Of the most beautiful books |
over issued from the artistic " riverside
Press." i do think, however, that In the |
way OF titles DIR. Holiness dainty little |
volume, just published from the Same press
by Messrs. Houghton, M1lin & Co., OF
Boston, is even superior TO Mr.. LowelPs
indeed 1 don't think / have ever come
across a moro appropriate title, one more
delicately, tenderly, pathetically suggee-
tive, than [" Before the Curfew," for the
collection Of the poetry OF the good old doc.
tor written during the last eight years. II
reminds us that he is patiently, oontentedIy
waiting for tho ringing OF the curfew that
shall bid him relre 10 rest But 1t reminds us
too that his waiting Is not spent In idleness,
but is made easy and cheerful by his con-
tinulng In well-doing, steadily working
while tho day lasts, aud rel joicing in his
work even rs by his work he brings ever
fresh glsdness aud JOY to tho Thousands who
love him and are grateful for every day that
passes without the sound of his curfew being
heard. Could the wishes OF man prevent
. It, that curfsw should not ring for many
and many year to come
The poom that gives Its title to the vol
ume was written and road In 1882, at the
annual meeting of tho class with which
Oliver Wendell Holmes graduated at Har.
ward In 1899. 1t Is 10 characteristic OF the
poet so thoroughly "like him." In Its
minRling OF deep patbos and every shade
OF humor, from the most delicate to the
broadest, that feel tempted to quote the
whole OF II for you but no II Is too long.
I'll give you only few stapzIs, the begin.
ming aud tho end only OF the poem:
" Not bed tine yet The nisht,wind bow,
The stars are ou,, ,-full well o know
the nurse Is on the stair,
with hand OF ice and cheek OF snow,
Ana froz IN lips that whisper los,
Come, children, II IL timo 10 go
nay peaceful couch to shAro.'
/" No years n wakeful he lrt can tire;
Not bed time yot Uouo s.ir the hrt
And warm your dear I'D hands;
Kfnd MO her earth we love 80 wIn
Has pleasant s'ories yet 10 Tell
Before we hear the curfaw bell
still glow the burning brands"
lie Is ready to go. But, II he may, he IL
y
possible. For he ts not an old man, save
IN years; because he lives In the present
with an intense interest In every thing that
IL going on, every new discovery oI science,
new theory or philosophy and theology,
every now invention ana new thought in
tho world. He does not believe that there
IL ''no new thing under the suD." He has
seen many new things In hts long lite,
undreamed OF by Solomon; aud ho would
like to know
what wonders time has yet to show,
what unborn years shail biag;
what ship the Arctic pole shall ,ach,
w nay lostons science waits 10 teach,
What sermons there ate lott to u each,
hat poems yet to sing"
He asks Solomon to prove that thero are
no new things under the sun.
"Con,d yon have spec roscoped a sta
II both those mothers At yonr bar,
The cruel ana the milo
The young ana tender Old ana tough,
Had saio, 'Divide-you're n4n', though
Did old udea know enough
10 eiherizs tho child ~
Iot with all his youthful curiosity and
interest In the present, no is full OF noble
and confident rosigra,ion to tho divine
| will
| "well let the present do itsbo
We trust our Maker for the rest
| AS on our way We plod."
And whenever the curiew shall ring ho In
/ Toauy 10 Tetlfe, 1Or MS IBltn ~ frun thaf a.
u is not oil OF life 10 live, so is 1t not oil OF
| death TO die.
And whom our cheerful evening past,
lhe nurse. long waiting, comes At last
| Ere on her lap we lie
In wearied natnra's sweet repOsr,
At peace with all her waking Ioa'
Our lips snail murmur ere they SInsc,
Good night ard not good by"
Thank God, the nurse is still waiting 4;
nor does she show any signs OF impotence
at his lingering. May she long spare us
the pain Of saying even Good night! TO
our dear old AuIocra., our kindly, wise
| and heroic Old poet