THE BOOKMAN

Evening Post, Volume XC, Issue 92, 16 October 1915, Page 16

THE BOOKMAN

" Days of the Open-air." By Nina Murdoch. Sydney : William Brooks and Co. Though the writer is not one of the "flesh poets," her fancy turns much to the procreant side of nature, and she interprets the rolling world in terms of " flesh and desire." The little book re- j veals her as one who has read. Swinburne diligenly. The following two verses particularly are echoes of that poet of metaphorical passion : — Greycliffe, Greycliffe, the season passes; Will you remember when we forget The splendid passionate ichor of Spring? The long embrace in the cold, clean grasses? The mouth and body and spirit met? The sheer delight of a. kiss's sting? Greycliffe, Greycliffe, when we no longer Are moved to rapture at Spring's swift birth, | From leafy stirring to vernal fret — When Death and fates than Love prove stronger, When all things fade that we loved of earth, Will you remembeT, though we forget? There is abundance of vitality in the songs, vivid imagery, and power of ex- . pression — with much promise. Here is a good verse on the return of Spring :—: — The wattle has unbound her golden hair, Making such golden mist upon the air, The little breezes, breathless with delight, j Pass her a-tiptoe lest she take to flight, And suddenly the sleeping scrub is stirred By the low liquid whistle of a mating bird. The writer is not a timid. She has several essays with " pittosporum " (" Pittosporums flung their scent with wanton hands"). She is almost brave enough to dispense with that old friend of poets, " amethyst," but the word has two or three runs. Her favourite is "twain," which has the dignity of a march through a triolet (three "twains"), and various other entrances and exits. "Songs from the Forests of Tane." By T. C. Chamberlin. London : Elkin Mathews. Mr. Chamberlin's little volume of verse has been praised by various reviewers in Britain and New Zealand. Though the themes have a melody of their own, they are mostly not lyric in form, according to the accepted canons. The author has the courage to be unconventional, and the reader can be grateful for this rare daring. The writer does not profess to have any ringing message. His meaning is a little elusive here and there — and this vagueness is part of the charm. The words are pleasantly suggestive rather than didactic, and thus they echo the voices of the restless wind and running water in the forests of Tane. The style is seen, typically, in the following lines "On an Ancient Carved Stone" : — Carved by cunning hands in misty ages past, Compelling reverence meet for toil of other days. ' Hands that caressed and sparkling eyes that danced, That glowed again when stars bedecked the sky ; And pouting lips that kisses raised upon, When warm sweet odours stole across the sense, And palm leaves murmured in the evening air, And wove a moving pattern on the still lagoon ; And wavelets sparkled 'neath a full moon's light, And long was fulfilled and sleep enfolded all.