The Portland daily press., 1893-12-14
NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Poems by Thomas William Parsons
The publishers tell us that they frequent
ly urged DR.. Parsons to make def
nitiv edition of his. poems. but never
with success.
The present collection therefore does
not aim at completeness. A companion
volume con tains his ira lation of
Dante. But within the pre- sent by no
means extensive group are clustered gems
which the true lover of verse cannot
afford to overlook. In the poetic writings
of this author there is rich, satisfying
delightful strain. Fine in meter and
finish, true in fibre, full of substance
these songs and sonnets strike to the
heart Sometimes playful, many Of
them full of the color of Italy, they are
always sincere and always meledious
Whether of Italy, England or:America the
full octave is struck. For felicitous
line note this one upon a lady singing
where the listener longed for an encore
but forebore to ask it.
"And the bush of her lip seemed sweet
as the sound"
or this
aThink how Columbus toiled, through
years of pain,
For leave to try the secret of the main;
Yet the dream dawn, and gavesin spite
of Rome,
Spain new world, and half mankind a
home.n
DR.. Parsons was born in 1911. so it
will be rememb ered that he belongs not
altogether to today but is of the group
of vanishing STARS in American lit
erature. Olive Wendell Holmes
stands almost alone now.
There are verses given in honor of
Booth at the Players Club: poem upon
Mary Booth and lines at the birth Of
the granddaughter of Mr.. Booth, the
latter always affectionately called ED
win" by the poet with no surname APP
pended, as Calico is known by his
Christian name. There are poems on a
number of our great men and some bits
written for special occasions. We cannot
resist quoting the two last stanzas son
the death of Daniel Webster"
1.-THE autumn rains are falling on his
head,
The SHOWS of winter soon will shroud
The spring with violets will adorn his
bed,
And summer will return, but he no
more!
We have no high cathedral for his rest.
Dim with proud banners and the dust
of years;
All we can give him is New England's
breast
To lay hishead on and his country's
tears"
Boston and New York, Houghton,
Miffiin and Company Portland: Loring
Short & Harmon. Price s1.25.
Low Tide on Grand Pre-: A Book of
Lyrics By Bliss Carmen. He is spirit
of in the open" and loving spirit that
interprets truly. The poppy and
speedwe1l, tn, Guelder rose the
sea, always the sea, the breeze, the storm,
have distinct or mysterious messeng-
ger for this. poets heart " He had put his
Ear to the confessional of nature AM
she has told him all her secrets" was
said of another and it might truly be re-
peaUed mere.
There is lam bent quality in this
writer's verse, delicacy, an intan gi BILE
transparent glow very difficult to define
but exquisite to kindled sensibilities.
as in "Wayfaring,"
Westward and lone the hill-road gray
Mounts to the sky line sheer and war.
Where many a weary dream puts forth
70 strike the trail were they are gone
The sleepless guide to that outland
Is the great Mother of us all,
Whose nodded dust and dew we are
With the blown flower by the wall.
Girt with the twilight she is grave,
Ihe strong companion, wise and free:
She leads beyond the dales OF time.
The earldom Of the calling sea-
Beyond these dull green miles of dixie
=, And cleaning breakers on the bar-
70 the white kingdom of her Lord
The namelass Word, whose breath we
are.