"THE TWO NOISES."

Dominion, Volume 2, Issue 330, 17 October 1908, Page 12

"THE TWO NOISES."

Some weeks ago there was reprinted on this page a very fine poem by Sir." J. K. "Chesterton on "The Seoret People." Those ,who remember ths poem—those, that is to read it—Trill bo glad to bave an* other treatment of the aims theme by Mr. Chesterton. This is an article in th# "Daily News," entitled "Th® Two Noises." ' ■ article opens with a thundering description of the wares charging a marine parade, and goes on:— Somewhere at tha back, in some pleasure ground or casino er placo of entertainment," an undaunted brass band was playing against the cosmic uproar. Ido not know what band • it was. Judging from tho boisterous British Imperialism of most of the airs it played, I should think it was a German 1 band! But thero was no doubt about its energy, and when I came quit# closo under it it really drowned th» st»rm. It was playing such things as "Tommy Atkins" and " Tou Can Depend on Young Australia," and mahy , others of which I do not know tha worda, but I should think ther would be "John, Pat, and Mac, With the U nioh Jack," or that fine though unwritten poem, " Wait till the Bull Dog gets a bit of you." Now, I for one detest Imperialism, bet I have a great deal of sympathy with 1 Jingoism. And thero seemed something so touching about this unbroken and innocent bragging under the brutal monaco of Naturo that it made, if I ,may so put it, two tunes in my mind. It is bo obvious and so jolly to bo optimistic about .England, especially when you are an opti•;mist —and an Englishman. But through all ~that glorious brass came the voice of the in-, invasion,, tho undertone of that awful sea.. I (did a foolish thing. As I could not express r i meaning in an articlo, I tried to express .St in a poem—a bad one. Yon can call it what you like. It might bo called "Doubt," 'or "Brighton." It might bo called "The Patriot," or yet again "The German Band." I would call it "Tho Two Voices," but that titlo has been taken for a grossly inferior poem. Hiis is how it began:— They say tho sun is on your knees A lamp to light your lands from harm, They say you turn the seven 6eas To little brooks about your farm. I hoar tho sea and the now song That calls -you empress all day lone. (0 fallen and fouled! 0 you that lie Dying in swamps—you shall not die, Your rioh havo secrets, and strange lust, Your poor are chased about like dust, Emptied of anger and surprise— And God has gone out of their eyes, _ Your cohorts break—vour captains lie, I sity to you, you shall not die.) Then I revived a little, remembering that after all there is an English country that tho Imperialists havo' never found. The British Empire may annex what it likes, it will never annex England. It has not even discovered the island, let alone conquered it. I took up the two tunes again with a greater sympathy for the first: I know the bright baptismal rains, I love ''your tinder troubled skies, I know your little climbing lanes, Are peering ifito Paradise, From open hearth to orchard cool, How bountiful and beautiful. (0 throttled and without a cry, 0 strangled and stabbed, you shall not die, The frightful word is on your walls, The oast sea to the west sea calls, The stars are dying in the sky, . You shall not die; jon Bhall not die.)

Then tho two groat noises grow deafening together, the noise of the peril of England and the louder noise of tho placidity of England. It is their fault if the last verse was written a little rudely and at random; I see. von how you smile in state 'Straight from the Peak to Plymouth Bar, You need not tell me you are great, ■ I know how more than, great you are. I know what 'William Shakespeare was, "I'have seen-Gainsborough and the grass. (0 given to belief a lie, 0 my. mad mother, do not die, Whose eyes turn all ways but within, Whoso sin is innocence of sin, Whose eyes, blinded with beams at noon, Can see the . motes upon the moon, You shall your lover still pursue. To what last madhouse shelters yon I will uphold you, eren I. You that are dead. You shall not die.) . But "the sea would not stop for me any more than for Canute; and as the German band, that would not stop for anybody.