REVIEW.

Bruce Herald, Volume IV, Issue 168, 10 July 1867, Page 6

REVIEW.

Original Poetry by Mug. C. Fulton We have read with much pleasure a small book of Poems, by Mrs Fulton. The prin'ing of the book is very creditable for Lawrence, and the printers seem to have been under that impression themselves, as their names flourish on the outside title-page, whereas the publisher's name is placed in an obscure corner at the end of the book, which arrangement is hardly just towards the Authoress, for we understand the responsibility of the printing, and the sale of copies rests upon her. Poetry, either in the home country or in the colonies, is seldom a paying speculation ; indeed, if we look at the subject from a monetary point of view, we might say that not one out of a thousand rhymsters make more than sufficient to kcep.Hhem alive. But while this is the cose, we would not depreciate the pursuit of the Poetic Art. We have great faith in the refining tendency which the study of nature and art must have on tbe mind ; and we believe there is infinite pleasure derivable from the exercise of those powers of reflection and imagination which are brought into play even in the stringing together of a few simple couplets. The small volume of Poems under consideration is made up of a miscellaneous selection of minor poems, some of which show great freedom of expression. In some cases the Authoress catches the inspiration of the moment, and places before the mind some pleasing images. The largest poem of the group is. one entitled " The Friends," the interest in which is well sustained throughout. The story of her life that Helen's friend recites is true to nature, and very touchingly told, and we cannot do the Authoress better justice than by quoting- a few verses from this part of the poem : Helen's friend waiting for her drunken husband's return. ! The -wind moaned sadly ono dark eve, Rjiiuid my lonely cottage home, The'waving trees did interweave Their restless limbs, and I alone Listed their pad and mourn "ul sigh That seamed forboding d;>.nger r'gh, Or did some woe bemoan"; And anxious listened for the tread That told my Edward homeward sped. But long I listened, w:;tch?d in v?'u, No living ci-eature came in v'cw, And in despite of wind a\>d rani. Thiew on a cloak, and out-jp -id flew, On to tie road at sw"test speed, Bat from the she'uer' ig "orcsi freed - So spiteSu^y- it blew ; P.OVr'^i" I'---'1 '---'- 1 before its w f.th 1 stood, And gla^'y g/oped Tvithm tihe Vrooil. . Back to my dreamy homo 1 crept, To weep the we«iy hours away ; I never sat, I never slept, But watched jhe clouds tiM bre.'k of day,. Dark visions on my mind did throng, Present 'tnents of coui?ug wvorg Causing this strange delay ; For ne'er till this eventful night Had Edward stayed for morning. L^fefe. * * ♦ ■ At length a murmur smote my e~r ; Hushed and subdued — what could it be ? My heart stood still with very fear, For weU I ki.'uv it was not he ; Each terror of fcbe night but gone, Revived in double d ;rkne.3 grown And in intensity ; And -vviien a mournful crowd diew near, No moan gave^l, nor sigh nor tear. They bore a heavy burden in. Close by my'sido they^bore it past ; (What fceMng chilled my heart within That I could let them pp.sa unasked ?) They laid it on the scfa near, Unwrapped it from its swaddling gear, 1 stavted up aghi-jt, .'... ', moa ti n g s?.' *k upou the floor I I hoxj'd I ne'er m'ghii lise f torn more. For in no difcnkcn fit he lay, ! The fc.auds sLtekhed nerveless, by hh side, The palHd brow — too truly chu\ j Tco truly told my iovc had died ; I did not note, and yet I knew j They looks of pity on me threw ; And tenderly each tried To do some deed — breaths scoAe kind thought, Or say some truth with covpfofi f •-■au^hu. They found him near the dreadful c^Jf O'er which the dimerous roadway wound, When morning broke — welched coVl and st'ff Upon a raised and grassy mou nd, Safe from the water's carele-3 plays, Waose hungry depths so ncui- him Jay, They there my dar'iag found ; No brokeo. bone— no jjiisk to bleeds — Some inwa.cl hurt had done the dee.d;. Oh how I kis cd the pa'e cold bvow, And strokrd the preiity rippling hair, Kissed the cald lips that never now The smile so dear to me must wear, Pressed the sii M l bosom to my, own With many an an^irshed wa?l and groan ; And.wa ;r og nuuvel^d how The heart could so much misery tear — -. Could live and view b : m Jifele.s3 there. I could not note how momenta fled. Kind friends stood by me In my nc:d. A day c«me when vhey gently led My faltering stepi with . i; li. 1 c speed, Where the high -wall and gate enclose The spot where maoy dead repose, From toil and sorrow f -red j And there, where high the r vnk weeds, waive, They made my dear young husbanl's grave. And I stood by ajad s&w.fr<m JaJdj Deep, deep within the cold dayk ground, And' suffocating sobs. betrayed My "vyoe to th:>?e who bent around : And when they heaped wii-hui the mound, : That doth my "darlVj's breast enfold, : The hoPow, bod : .ng sound = / FellLke the death. knV.l on. my ear . Of every hope ol gladnes3 here, « We would recommend a 'perusal of this little volumo to all who are lovers of veise.