Book Reviews [pp. 103-112]

Book Revie7s.
in brief and pointed description, or pure narrative;
they lack originality and force-their matter was
not worth the saying; thus:
Her eyes are like unfathomable lakes
When brightly o'er them morning radiance breaks;
And yet the mariner had best beware,
For many hearts lie shipwrecked there,is fairly characteristic of much of his worlk. On the
other hand, as good a note as this is here and there
struck:
"Last night a mighty poet passed away;
' Who now will sing our songs?' Men cried
at morn.
'Faint hearts fear not! Somewhere, though far
away,
At that same hour another bard was born."'
Summer Haven Songs is a collection so various
in subject, style and merit, that it is not easy to
characterize them. Many are pointless, many
commonplace, but there is a thread of sincerity,
spontaneity, and a not unpleasing quaintness and
not uninteresting thoughtfulness, that runs, appearing and disappearing, through them. There is altogether too much in the book for the grains of
excellence it contains; and yet this very verbosity
conveys a suggestion of fullness and, as we have
said, spontaneity, that is somewhat refreshing, by
way of a change. Amid the medley of love songs,
descriptions, reflections, conceits, we must select a
sample somewhat at random.
Some Old Considerations.
The Puritan lies in his tomb:
A grand fellow was he in his day,
But now hes so bothered for room
He'd hardly have space to pray,
Should he rise on his knees.
Not a foot from him down below,
Great Sachem Paupmunock lies,
With his kettle of corn and-his bow, And both he might use could he rise
And sit at his ease.
Right over the two is my bed,
Delightfully propped on the great;
And here at my ease overhead
I rest on two Pillars of State, And sleep very well.
If they muttered a word underground,
'Twould come, I dare say, to my ears;
But I've heard not the slightest sound, And they've slept there two hundred years So the records tell.
I muse as I think of them there,
And sometimes I laugh to myself,
As I say, "What a fine old pair,-
But how easily laid on the shelf,
When we youngsters came!"
The Sachem sang in his throat,
The Puritan twanged through his nose;
We sing a more lively note
Of the ruby red and the rose, In the end'tis the same.
We too shall hobble away
From the merry folk and the fire, "Goodbye" to the singers shall say,
And pass from the lute and the lyre,
From the folk and the flame.
Professor Raymond, author of a critical book
upon poetry, recently reviewed in the OVERLAND,
has passed from theory to practice with A Life in
Song. This is the mental autobiography of an
imaginary poet, told in successive poems, grouped
into seven periods or "ages,"-"Dreamning," "Daring," "D)oubting," "Seeking," "Loving," "Serving,"
and "Watching." In "notes" between, in the
character of narrator, commenting on the poet, the
author speaks of him as a great genius, and the
poems as wonderful and deeply treasured by their
readers; which is ill-judged, as the poems themselves do not keep up the illusion. They are somewhat dull and ineffective verses, of about such
quality throughout as the following:
Believe me in humanity it is,
In charities and kindly courtesies,
In eyes that sparkle, or in cheeks that blush
With love and hope and faith, which make
them flush,
That all the bloom and fruitage of the earth
Attain their consummation and their worth.
You ask me why I love my love,
Ah! Think not love needs proving;
She sways me like the breeze above
That keeps the tree-tops moving.
In her fair face I find a bloom
Life could not know without it,
Which like a rose that sheds perfume,
Makes sweet the world about it.
Before we pass on to a group of still more obscure
singers, we will note several volumes of selected
verse. We have received July,' August,' September,I
October,'and November' of Oscar Fay Adams's series,
"Through the Year with the Poets." These arepretty and interesting collections, and the plan
makes a very good companion to that of Longfellow's "Poems of Places." There is a little monotony in the succession of poem after poem on the
lJuly,-August. —September.-October.-November. Edited by OscarFay Adams. Boston: D. Lothrop & Co. 1886.
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