The times., 1899-03-26

| life, they are decidedly interesting and
valuable. Through most Of them runs the
| thread of gloomy, fatalistic thought which
| is noticeable in the novels OF the author
pagan thought, bequeathed to the de-
scendants of the old Druids who speculat-
| ed on the mysteries of life and death in
| the rugged wilderness of old England
With a strong moral sentiment Mr.. Hardy
combines an absolute distrust of what is
commonly called revelation; and the re-
| suit is rather sombre. His view of life is
| expressed briefly in the poem which he
calls
| II but some vengeful god would call TO me
From up the sky, and laugh: Thou suffering
| thing
Know that thy sorrow is my ecstacy.
| That thy loves loss is my hates pro6ting!'
Then would I bear. and olench myself, and die,
| Steeled by the sense OF ire unmerited;
| Half-eascd. too. that Poweruller than !
Had wied and meted me the tears l shed.
| But not so. How arrives it JOY lies slain,
And why unb!ooms the best hope sown?
| Grass casualty obstructs the sun and rain.
! And dicing Time for gladness casts moan.
| These purbnd DoomsteIs had as readily strown
| Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain
This is heathenism, if you will, and per-
| haps it is not poetry, but it is human
nature in the nineteenth century, and II
has been. more o. less definitely, the cry
of suffering things in all time. There is
a tinge of this grim philosophy in all Mr..
Hardys writings. but this poem is the
| thought crystalliZed.
! There are two or three soldier poems in
the ballad form which are worth noting.
THE Sergeant's Song ''Valenciennes,
''San Sebastian" and Leipzig" are true to
life and full of a rough music, like the
sound of drum and fife. San Sebastian"
| deserves TO rank high as tragic story
| well told. The Peasants Confession puts
forth a somewhat novel theory of Napo-
Icons defeat at Waterloo. which is ex-
planned in manner thoroughly character
istic of Hardy. As is well known, Grou-
chy's detection at critical point lost
the battle for the French. and he stead
fastly declared that he had never received
his orders to march TO Napoleon's aid.
| Hardy makes peasant. many years after
the battle, confess that II was he who mis-
| guided and murdered the messenger sent
| TO Grouchy, that the tide of battle might
not oversweep his little farm. hidden in
nook of the hills. Now, weighed down by
n guilty conscience, the peasant comes to
| confess this old sin, and declares that the
| farm for which he has endangered his
soul has brought him no peace, since his
children are grasping at his property and
eagerly awaiting his death. The concep
| out to an interminable length.
The only dialect poem in the book Is
| Fire at Tranter Sweatley's," which is
| simply rustic love story told in verse,
and is remarkable for nothing save vivid
ness of character drawing and description.
There is however, one poem, which re-
deems all the faults of the entire collec
ton. 1t would be easy to pick out a dozen
| rhymes which are crude. meaningless,
| commonplace, amateurish but in Heir
ess and Architect Hardy has struck out
| a new thought and given 1t fitting ex-
| preston. The man who could create this
allegory of idealism and materialism, with
| its haunting melancholy and half -satirical
mood. has right to call himself poet:
She sought the Studios. bcckoning to her side
An areh-desgner, for she planned to build
| lie of wise contrivance, deeply skilled
| In every intervolve OF high and wide
| Well fit 10 be her guide.
Whatever It be-"
| Responded he,
! With cold, clear voice, and cold. clear view,
''In true accord with prudent fashionngs
| For such vicissitudes as living brings,
| And thwarting not the law OF stable things,
That will l do.
'Shape me-" she said 'hgh walls with tracery
| And open ogive-work, that scent and hue
! OF buds and travelling bees may come in through
The note of birds, and singings Of the sea,
| For these are much TO me-"
"An idle xiim.''
| Broke forth from him
| Whom naugl.t could warm to gallantries;
''Cede all these buds and birds, the zephyrs call;
And scents, and hues, and things that falter all,
| And choose as best the close and surly wall,
| For winters freeze"
"Then Frame she cried, wide fronts of
crystal glass,
Light like the SUMS by day, the stars by night
TIL rival heart-queens. envying. wall, Alas.
Her glory!' as they pass"
80 maid misled!"
He sternly said
Whose facile foresight pierced her dire;
"where snail abide the soul when. sick OF glee.
| II shrinks, and hides, and prays no eye may sect
Those house them best who house for secrecy,
For you will tire
"a little chamber, then. with swan and dove
Ranged thekly, and engrailed with rare device
OF reds and purpes, for Paradise
Wherein my love may greet me, ! my love,
When he shall know thereof
"This. too. is ill,''
He answered still,
The man who swayed her like a shade.
''An hour Will come when sight Of each sweet
nook
Would bring bitterness too sharp to brook,
When brighter eyes have won away his look
For you will tade''
Then She said family: 40 contrivc some way
Some narrow, winding turret, quite mine own,
To reach loft where may grieve alone!
1t is a slight thing; hence do not, pray,
This last dear fancy slay."
"such winding ways
Fit not your days"
Said he the man of measuring eye:
81 must fashion as my rule declares,
To wit: Give space (since life ends unawares)
To hale coffned corpse adown the stairs,
For you will die
New York Harper &: Bros. s1T5.)
"Along the Trail by Richard Hovey
is a book somewhat different from the 9TH
er works of the author. but 1t is difficult
to see why 1t should have received the
second half of its title. "a Book of Ly-
RIGS" for most of the poems are certainly
not lyrical in form.
Several of the best bits of work In this
/, volume are patriotic poems breathing a
fervid and unrestrained love of country
One. which is in form more like Wall
Whitman's unshaped lines than anything
else in American literature, is entitled
THE Call of the Bugles.'' and contains
! some stirring phrases:
, For the old sap of fight
Mounts up in South and North,
The thrill
That tingled In our veins at Bunker Hill
, And brought 10 bloom July Of Seventy six!
Pine and palmetto mix
With the seuuoia Of the giant West
, Their ready banners, and the hosts OF war,
Near and far,
Sudden as dawn,
| Inutiuerablp as forests. hear the call