The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1902-07-27


says at the poeucal celebrations of the
Kings ascension to the throne. 1t will.
in all likelihood, secure Mr.. Watson
promotion in the literary mind from rank
~ a younger and minor versifer to the
iaureated class of poets.
Under the shielding anonymity OF the
editorial plural, we shall exercise our
native modesty. long-suppressed under
mercenaIy exigencies, and say that we
know little or nothing about poetic crit
cism OF course, we know the differ
ence between riaInbic and dactylic metre.
and could identify a sonnet, and are iono
Of ballad verse, but when 1t comes TO
odes we confess our dense ignorance
without shame. however; for later
point OF view makes US see a poet IN
far different light from that which
blazed In the old Bohemian days. Shoddy
poetry, that Juvenile stuff, dick Hovcy,
rest his mismanaged soul. and Bliss Car
men, also has written an ode, were
the bards of what coterie. 1t was q
queer gang, none OF whom would orr
ganize."
The Academy and Literature Of
June 2sth, reviews Mr. Watson's corona
ton ODE and the critic of that excellens
London weekly voices authoritauvely our
own impressionistic opinion OF the poem
The Academy says:
It has dgnified eloquence. s1ngulariy
Impressive rhetoric. distinguished eie-
walton and at times stateliness Of dicuon:
the blood of poetry runs through 1t even
when calm judgment discerns 1t TO be
something less than pure poetry Inc
theme is handled, in fact. as a poet should
handle it and only a poet could handle IT,
For poet shows his art in recognizing
where sheer poetry would be too much
But not every poet could hit the needed
mean, as Shakespeare invariaoiy did. 1t
is an example how this manner OF poem
should be treated. An august occasion,
the ode is unflaggingly august in style
throughout and perhaps no adjective
could more adequately describe 1t. Inc
opening strikes the note, which IS alter
wards maintained:
Sire, we have looked on many and mighty
things
In these eight hundred summers OF re-
Since the Gold Dragon OF the western
Kings
On Hastings field went down:
And slowly in the ambience of this
crown
Have many crowns been gathered. TIL
to-day ,
How many peoples crown thee. who shall
say?
Time and the ocean and some fostering
In hight cahal have made US what we are,
Who stretch one hand to Huron beard
ed pines.
AND one on Kashrnir's snowy shoulder lay,
And round the streaming or whose raj
ment shines
The iris Of the Australasian spray.
For waters have connived at our de-
signs
And winds have plotted with us-and be-
hold,
Kingdom in kingdom, sway IN oVers"aE'
Dominion fold In fold
How easily the spacious rhetoric Of
the couplet about Huron and kashmir
rises into the absolute poetry of the pass
age beginning For water have con-
nived." The interplay Of the compo-
nent qualities is everywhere as natural;
II Is no poem of patches. but the argu-
ment flows with steady dignity TO the
close. Very finely poetic is a coupiet IN
the conclusion of the first stanza or
section:
Proud from the ages are we come, y KING
Proudly. as fits nation that hath now
So many dawns and sunsets on -
brow.
This duteous heart we bring.
But It was one of the few weaknesses
IN the ode that Mr.. Watson should have
<a,,o-re6 a couplet SO majestic by such
an anti-climax as This duteous heart
we bring"
The enumeration of the Kings pre-
decessors brings forth the fine couplet
about Elizabeth:
Before whose prows. before whose tenn
pests fed
snain on the running night precipitately-
Fine, again, is the lmaslneu eiuiii5 VI
the Coronation Day:
And now the day whose bosom was SO
high
sinks b,llow!ng down; and twilight
sorceries change
Into remote and strange
What is most known and nigh:
And changeless the river sends his sigh
Down leagues OF hope ana lear anu
pride and shame,
And 1ire and death; dim journeyins pas
sionless
To where broad estuary and beaconins
ness
Look towards the outlands whence our
fathers came.
And high on Druid mountains hath the
Flamed valedction, as the last lights
Beyond that fatal wave, that from our
side
sunders the lovely and the lonely Bride
Whom we have welded but have never
won.
1890
of remote poetry which has the breath
of .;old romance is the middle OF the
section which describes the old Saxon
kingdoms
Deira with her sea-face to the morn,
And Cambria sunset-gazins; moist
Divnaiat,
realm of coombs and tors: old great
resses
s-.ere born
,se songs are in the wind by 1dris
sair.
,-ose lips Won battles; and seats OF
;-i~Saace where,
WITH long grope of his desultory hand.
The ocean rrying deep into the land.
BY Morvern and the legends Of wild LORI
Repeats him, lost about Locheil.
Those last lines trouble deep wells OF
noetry. The Ode concludes with an ad
nairable and statelv-phrased warning te
England against folding of the hands t.
s.eep lest she be amongst those nation: