The Anaconda standard. [volume] (Anaconda, Mont.) 1889-1970, 1896-01-19
Official Poetry.

There seems to be a disposition In
this country to deal harshly with Poet
Laureate Austin's first official ballad.
Literary criticism should be something
exempt from patriotic and military in
fiuences, but 1t seems 1t isn't. In time
Of international strife and pickering,
ones mind is liable to be thrown, with
out ones knowledge, into a prejudiced
condition; and so, when an American,
rational and reasonable at other times,
finds II necessary at a season OF strain
ed relations between the two great En-
glish-speaking nations to exercise his
critical faculty upon a strictly English
production, whether 1t be an English
poem or an English hog. an English
robbery or an English bluff, an English
lord or an Englishman, or anything
that is English, he is unconsciously
prone to reach for the lions tail and
viciously snarl 1t all up.
It is obviously in such a frame OF
mind that a portion of the American
press has been viewing Laureate Aus
tins "Jamesons Ride" In Boston If
anywhere in the United States we
would expect to find literary Judgment
in all Its simon purity, uncontaminated
in the slightest degree by the microbes
of interna tional jealousy, suspicion and
hate. Yet the esteemed Boston Herald
cannot find anything in the poem
"above the level of doggerel, being no
less grotesque from a literary stand
point than 1t is lacking in tact and
taste" Now let us see about this.
Read the lines calmly and dispassion-
ately:
Wrong Is II wrong? Well may be;
But I'm going. boys, all the same.
Do they think me burgher's baby
To be scared by a scolding name?
They may argue and pirate and order.
Go tell them to save their breath.
Then over the Transvaal border.
And gallop for life or death
Right sweet is the marksman's rattle,
And sweeter the cannons roar,
But tits bitterly hard to battle
Beleaguered. and one to four.
/ can tell you IL wasn't a trife
To swarm over Krugersdorp glen.
AS they piled us with round and rife.
And ploughed us again and again.
I suppose we were wrong-were madmen;
Still think at the judgment day.
When God Sits the good from the bad
men,
There'l be something more TO say.
We were wrong. but we aren't half sorry.
And as one of the baffied band,
would rather have had that foray
Than the crushings of all the Rand.
We will admit for the sake of argu-
ment that this is not equal to the best
work Of Laureate Austin's immediate
predecessor in office. 1t lacks the power
and passion OF the Charge OF the Light
Brigade" in grandeur and nobility It is
is hardly TO be compared with the lode
on the Death OF the Duke OF Wellington.
| But remember Mr.. Austin did not have
50 great a theme to deal with. His ore
was low grade. Things had gone wrong
with DR.. Jameson's calculations. and
instead OF being a conquering hero he
had Just been made a monkey Of. To
| lift him from simianity back to human
| ity was a difficult and delicate task
Tennyson never would have attempted
1t. When things didn't come England's
way Tennyson timidly lay low and
kept his mouth shut. Austin's policy i:
| Of a more liberal and enterprising scope
he purposes to glorify anything and
everything that comes along from q
spent cannon ball to a tin tomato can
Our criticism of Laureate Austir
| would be that he is not sufficiently ex
| plicit-the picture is lacking in those
deft but pregnantly suggestive details
/ that stamp 1t vividly and permanent
| ly upon the memory. We think Mr.
/ Austin could with advantage have
knocked of his last stanza and substi
/ tuted this:
/ 1 suppose we were off-were crazy;
We had wheels. we had bugs all along;
| Still think the scheme was a daisy
| II only II hadn't gone wrong.
/ We got punched. we got smashed, we got
done up;
We got pounded and pummeled and
| kicked.
| 'Gainst too many Beers we did run up.
And only for this we'd have licked.
Then again. the new laureate did no
cover the ground with sufficient thor
oughness. HIS ballad has the appear.
ance Of having been suddenly choPpeC