Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-06-09

above and behind the bay window of
Raleigh's study, pushes up to a great
height, the ivy winding about it in swirls of
foliage, until it bears q startling resem-
blance to a diminutiye, ivy-clad round
tower set up on the peak of some gray old
crag.
There is no doubt that below this fairy
tower Raleigh composed a number Of those
works which would have given his name
the greatest luster with posterity as writer
had not his close association with the
material activities of his time remorselessly
linked his name with those of the great SOL
diers, discoverers and court diplomats Of the
Elizabethan era. For here Spenser knew
and loved his "priceless friend" and brother
poet, whom he named 'the summer night
ingale," and set the seal of his own line
Judgment upon Raleigh's poetical power, In
the line admitting no doubt of his genius,
"Himselfe as skillful in that art as any"
A LOVELY OLD CITY.
1 feel sure that auyone-after lettering
about the lovely, leafy, silent old city of
Youghal, and then enjoying the glories of
the Blackwater with those of its sweet and
murmurous tributary, the Awbeg, and after
tramp from old Doneraile town set like
squalid gipsy, encampment amid gorgeous
stand the ruins of Kilcolman castle-would
agree with me in pronouncing the place one
OF the loneliest spots in all Ireland. A vast
vale surrounds it; but as far as the eye can
reach there is scarcely sign of human hab-
itation. The once noble forests have disap-
peared; only one little lake to the south can
be seen; and searching in vain for sight or
sound of human activity or nearness, only
the gray of far horiZon-edge settles leaden-
ly down upon the Waterford Mountains to
the east, the heights of Kerry to the west,
the Nagle Mountains to the south, and the
Ballyhowra hills to the north. 1t is said
from the top of the castle view of above
half the breadth of Ireland was once COM
manded. If there was compensation in that
in Sponsors time, it could hardly be found
now.
Kilcolman, or Gill Colman in Irish, means
saints Colman, and any of these, to ones
liking, may be taken as the patron saint of
this particular townland locality. The
castle, as the ruins indicate, however remote
its date of construction, must have been one
of strength and importance. The lower por-
tion OF the great quadrangular keep is in
good state of preservation for about 80 feet
from the ground; one OF its side walls,
showing a noble window, rises solidly and
firmly for perhaps 25 feet above this; and
massive square hanking tower still lifts its
rough old walls to probable height of 20
feet. 1t must have been a weird and dreary
place for one of Spenser's fine nature.
POETS LOVE.
But two things of the gravest importa nee
to poet, prince or peasant came to this man
in mis- Ii years os practical Punishment here,
between 1857 and 1899. The first of these
was the ehastening and exalting influence
of absolute self-denial., The second was in
his vooing and marrying woman "of mean
birth, " who was so loyal, sweet and good
that Spenser never knew an unhappy hour
on her account during his life, more power
to women 'of mean birth" for it. These
two good fortunes, despite bitter financial
straits on the one hand, and on the other
Irish 'rebellions" of such startling fire.
quency that every far line of trees, like
trembling silouttes against the horizon,
undoubtedly took on the form of Desmond
and Tyrone avengers, made him sing as
no English poet before or since ever
sung. And in these true things of his
life lay the compensations for the later
davs of poverty in London, where, as the
sequel proved. English indifference was
more fatal than Irish savagery, brought him
nothing save the loyalty of his companion
"of mean birth; and ne was allowed 10 ole
in want in the land he had more infinitely
honored than any other who ever lived in it,
save Shakespeare.
There is but little here to remind of
Spenser now. So desolate is old Kilcolman
and devoid of suggestive association the
region roundabout, that the pilgrim hither
must perforce bring Spenser along in his
heart, and build the entire fabric of life,
home and haunts from his own loving fancy.
Only one real and sweet thing remains which
will always remain as if revealing the radi-
ance of the poets gentle presence. That is
the little river, Awbeg, the "Mulla" of his
joyous verse; more joyous and melodious
ever as it sings of him who sung on its
sunny, beauteous way to the Blackwater
and the sea. EDGAR L. WAKEMAN.