New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1889-07-08
NEW PUBLICATIONS.
SOME REAL POETRY.

a BooK OF VERSES. BY William Ernest Henley
lemo pp 115. scribner a Wexford
In this little volume there is more true poetic
power than any minor poet has put forth for .
long time. While Mr.. Heney's verse at times
brings suggestions Of other singers, notably
Heine, there is in his muse buoyancy and re-
dictionary force which show that his darkest
moods were transient passionate love OF
nature. and a rare skill in etching the salient
outlines of striking scenes characterize many Of
his poems, which arc all short but of which sew
eral are remarkably full of an impressive virility
The volume opens with strange series of tab
leaus describing hospital life from the entrance
of patient to Lis endurance of an operation and
his subsequent convalescence. An almost morbid
sensibilty and a Photographic receptivity mark
these curious verses The following, entitled
After" describes the awakening from the an
aesthetic when the operation is over:
Like as a famelet blanketed in smoke,
So through the anaesthetic shows my life;
So flashes and so fades my thought, at strife
With the strong stupor that heave and choke
And sicken at IL is so foully sweet.
Faces look strange from space-and disappear
Far voices. sudden loud; offend my ear.
And hush as sudden. Then my senses fleet.
An were blank, save for this dull. new pain
That grinds my leg and foot and brokenly
limo and the place glimpse on to me again;
And unsurpassed, out of uncertainty,
/ wake-rela psin g-somewhat faint and faln
To an immense, complacent Creamery"
All these hospital sketches are evidently the
fruit of personal experience, end they arc vivid
in their presentation of sick fancies and observa-
lions The nurses, the house-surgeon, the profess
sor and his clinical class each and all are drawn
with bold strokes. There is CHASTITY picture of
o man who has attempted suicide
In the second part, entitled Life and Death
Echoes" there some striking and beautiful
~ indn a
resolution and endurance
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole.
For my unconquerable SOUL
In the fell clutch of circumstance
have not WINGED or cried aloud
Under the udgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unDowed
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafrald
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punshments the SCROLL
am the master of my fate;
] am the captain of my SOUL
The following inevitably recalls Heine's " Mein
Verz, mein Herr, ist traurig':
The sands alive with sunshine,
The bathers lounge and throng,
And out in the bay bugle
Is lifting a gallant song
The clouds go racing eastward,
The blithe wind cannot rest,
And shard on the shingle flashes,
Like the shining soul of jest.
While children romp in the surges,
And sweethearts wander free,
And the Firth as with laughter dimples:
would IL were deep over mel
I'm the third part Mr. Henley shows what he can
40 in the too hackneyed archaic French metres
the ballade. willamette and rondeau-and his
versatility defines and warmth of fancy are
not less remarkable in these forms than the sombre
strength of his pessimistic verse. Here is
ballade OF Midsummer Days and Nights"
'iWith q ripple of leaves and tinklc of streams
The full world rolls in rhythm of praise,
And the winds are one with the clouds and
Midsummer days. midsummer days.
The dusk grows vast in purple haze
While the West from rapture of sunset sights,
Faint stars their exquisite lamps upralSe-
Midsummer nights! midsummer nights!
The woods green heart is a nest of dreams,
The lush grass thickens and springs and sways,
The rattle wheat rustlcs, the landscape CLEANS
Midsummer daysl midsummer daysi
In the Silly fields, in the Silly ways,
All secret shadows and mystic lights,
Late lovers murmur and lnger and gaze
Midsummer nights midsummer nights!
There's a music Of bells from the trampling
teams.
Wild slylarks hover, the gorses blaze,
The rich, ripe with incense streams
Midsummer days. midsummer days
"A soul from the honcysucllle strays,
And the nightingale from prophet heights,
Sings TO the Earth of her million Mays
Midsummer nights. midsummer nights!
ENVOY
And it's o for my dear and tho charm that stays
Midsummer days! midsummer days
It's for my Love and the dark that phghts-
Midsummer nights! midsummer nights!
There are other ballades and rondeaus by Mr.
Henley which good enough to rank with even
the best of Austin Dobson's and Lockyers verses;
and there is in all his poetry passion, magma
ton, and fitness of expression which set him
entirely apart from and above the mob of swectly
iDsipid singers whose work constitutes the bulk
OF what passes for poetry at present. IL is very
sincerely to be hoped that the first volume Of
this real poet may not be his last.