Ih'view of Itecieij-.i, 1/0/13. 



LEADING ARTICLES. 



713 



POETRY IN THE REVIEWS. 



THE EPIC OF PANAMA. 

 Stephen Phillips has written some re- 

 markable verse, and some that by con- 

 trast is most disappointing ; but no 

 short poem he has yet produced grips 

 the reader so strongly as " The Marriage 

 of the Seas." The lines, which appear in 

 the Cosmo polttan, describe — or are, 

 rather, a peon of praise upon the suc- 

 cessful cutting in twain of two conti- 

 nents, the wedding of the greatest 

 oceans of the world, by the constructive 

 genius of the American nation. The 

 poem will, no doubt, take its place as 

 the epic of the great canal, as the fol- 

 lowing extract shows : — 



Tliou iiiaiTH>st sea to sea, and tide to tide, 



Atlantic bridegroom to Pacific bride ; 



And tlie wrouglit wedding ring that sparkles 



far, 

 Lies ou tliat stretched forefinger, Panama. 

 "What God hath joined let no man put 



asunder !" 

 Thus saith the Church in ritual of thunder; 

 Yet here, and in suhlimer marriage met. 

 Thou joinest seas which God asunder set. 

 Thy priest-like task is here to reconcile, 

 Not troth of mighty waters to defile. 



Since ne'er as here since onr first earth began. 

 Rose Nature so invincible to man ; 

 Nor came he too such splendid grapjjle yet 

 With massy force as in this prol)lem set. 

 Nor e'er did mind give matter such as fall, 

 In wrestle t!iat might brain and hand appal. 

 For Pharaoh vanquished a more level soil ; 

 And lashed 'lis millions to a lesser toil ; 

 His slaves in diunb obedience strove, with 



sand ; 

 Lo, here a mountain pierced, a tori'ent spanned. 



Some pleasing lines of Stephen South- 

 wold appear in the English Review. The 

 poem is entitled " Dreams of Child- 

 hood," from which we quote a few 

 verses : — ■ 



I lay in a meadow one sum mo- day. 

 Hot from the .snn, and tired of play: 

 And I watched the blue of the sky o'erhead, 

 As I stretched my legs on my grassy bed. 



I saw through the shoots of the waving grass 



A field-mouse peep ere he tried to pass; 



Then he looked at me wilh his wee, bright 



eyes, 

 And spoke — I listened without sui])iiM'. 



" Ck)me with me where the corn amid 

 My nest from the owl and hawk is hid; 



Where the swaying corn, when the wind is 



high, 

 Makos tor Uiy baljes a lullaby. 



I rose to follow my tiny guide, 



.\nd woke . . . there was no one at my side; 



The voice that had broug'ht my dream to 



pass 

 Was the wind as it whispered through the 

 grass. 



Mr. John Drinkwater, in his poem iii 

 the current number of Poetry and the 

 Drama, entitled " The Builder," sounds 

 a vigorous and modern note. We 

 (}uote the following extract : — 



,\nd in all I see 



Of common daily u-sage is renewed 

 This primal and ecstatic mystery 

 Of chaos bidden into many-hued 

 Wonders of form, life in the void create, 

 And monstrous silence made articulate. 



Not the hrst word of God ujxyn the deep. 

 Nor the first pulse of life along the day. 

 More marvellous than these new walls that 



sweep 

 Starward, these lines that discipline the clay. 

 These lamps swung in the wind that send their 



light 

 On swarl men climl)ing ladders in the night. 

 No trowel-tap V,ut sings anew for men 

 The rapture of f|uickening water and conti- 

 nent, 

 No mortared lino but witnesses again 

 Chaos transfigured into lineament. 



The Bengali poet, Rabindranath Ta- 

 gore, continues to excite an increasing in- 

 terest, and Mayce F. Seymour pays the 

 following tribute in the Modern Revieiu 

 (Calcutta) : — 



Wlien conies a king, the cannonade booms 



forth 

 Traditional greeting — along the flattering 



shores 

 The gaudy straining ranks declare their joy 

 Or conntert'eit of joy; men's hearts are big 

 With pride of the glittering vision, until all — 

 Shores, banners, ga/ers. empty pageantry. 

 Are swallowed by the night. 'I he king has. 



passed ! 



l?ut when the Poet comes, the patient shores. 

 Maintain their wonted peace. Only the sun 

 Unflattering sweeps the broad plains of the 



sky 

 For brighter canopy and loving minds 

 I'.nt'old liim with old comradeship; while ever 

 The silent proci\ssions of the day and night 

 l,av down their pn'cious gifts and jia.ss to 



peace. 



