REVIEW.

Oamaru Mail, Volume I, Issue 258, 19 February 1877, Page 2

REVIEW.

Fii,i»'ivt;u.s if TEiK Ftiv.r. La:."i»>. l>y j Ttm.Hvs fIuAfKK:;. DutieiUn : 3li!h*, , Dick, sunt Co.. SUiit'ot-street. tit tho.-te lUiy.-t ft' Hier.try pruytv.v-t. when ;uithors ate s<o plentiful, aiul n->t t" have written a hook ta to be nohotty. the advent of a new work i-S a matter viewed with very tutu* ivu.vvit. am* mile** the name nf the writer he known to fame, it is ; allow-tl t>> pa?.-* hy without comment, fn thy work t-Ul'ler review, however, '.-iwh t:.>nut nnt he the e;v,- r for the name of TS'!.i>!tia:i f>aeken U known thvott-hout the ten-'th ami hiva'ttit of the t int. ami i<* a* faint tiar to alt colonist* as " kom-tehohl • wnniit." I'm- year* p:e.E e >rttri*mt'oii- ' fc'nuu h-u-4 ['Oil taiu' ami .;»•-.1 in the i.ninciliii paper*, r.hteh u-enj.enlh.Mt t'r>m 'hem into the journals of not onty this ami the <'otouie.>. hut i'M-y have ah;-> fi.uui-t their wey into the pa-v* -»f amf Am'.rleui perm-lie'-'.-'.-. Mr. r.racken | the nm n.ijfie fire, ami all hi-* eiform hear tip hi leem the imprest ami I nr:.c of the rvitr- m-Ud *•£ »■■ --y ; v.-:.i;e his ; Jiiy: ri'i. h-'-.i-t <■<■: Hi.uf, 111 ■•.*.- t>hi;ntiv\!y j;v. t hyr.te-ri!';-i..*. ant r."'>u wtvMth'"! in suiiten. fti hhi [)n'f.i.ce. the stuttv«-i- !ii" h:- :! 'y toil-; t« : *"• T'letiy* h;.w t>eett .1 kitul «>: t>tvtvj>t'.v?ri to tire siriee tnv hi'vhoti'l. f tuive h>vett hei- fin- thy !.«i!i; vr!ueh she iue r nrut tti.'4tj;h m>t inuiil'etviit £<■» pf.jia-h::ne- ( shwh►■.'.■>- thf-:;h ii- fie—l h;ivo I'r.tnv.t ti.rr.hniy fre.-!e ■ t eiu.eii'i'--* in etiiUfio- ! t'.ittrnt it the mo..*c way nf v.'h;:.t t t.Jt. The Flowers which I mlvr .it cite slirinc <i the j Southern Mir.t: sin»nbu:wi*e;ty | t'fiim the "fiv.teti ff the he.trt. TSiey are j nut eXottes it\*o:i ttie c-;tUtv«ti"ii of wliieli [ a nnpitnit v: eate lu«t»een expenileft. i hut s>imt>tt> Uosw,.:■»,::. that have reeetvtit but slight attention in tiieif icrowttt, ami therefore the erit : ett th»netit-tttii.-t may ercpe-.'t to ft ml a numkr of ; uorth arotm»l the .'tenn oi ji-.ajiy j of them. AttUou.L,'!i the ]H>-;.rn« Wxi- ;t|e>n | then* the truth <-f the author*;; i that they are the unatttatieous emanation ; from the Kanlen of t!ie tmiuniTGil | hv a?iy artittetat a h>r,uit: :it. we fail t<. tie- , tect ttte weett.-i to whieh he I'efer.*. Th.e ! pnet whn-ii. not nia'-te. and if a man ho [ no-t *'f the mviue t.'J/'-''»'•*. no j amount of faV-nr or artitieiai «lecorations i nn make his writing* pass current, or place npon tlism the genuine stamp: while on the contrary, when the fire of

poetry is once aglow in the breast, as in j the immortal bard of Scotland, it needs not culture nor education to make it de- j dare itself, though each may cause it to. j « inn a brighter ray. It wrdls out pure j and simple, like some lullaby fountain, , and unmarred by artificiality. A:* has been truly said by the 7V./->, in j ivvh.-v.itig the work : — ,; The poet, then, uuiy so called, sings by nature : art cannot tic him with his strains. Culture may improve those talents that have been born with a man, and education may expand Uh mind, add vigor to his thoughts, and fore- and elegance to his expression ; but there is a limit beyond which these things cannot pass, and they are impotent to open the iiycs thai fr„m their birth have been closed, or to attune the voice to m.tes descriptive of thai which the sense of vision ha-; never taken cognisance of." It is a prevailing opinion with a good many who write " poetry" that so long as the metre is correct, the rythm attended to, and the lines jingle, it must neeessarUr fol?i..w that every requirement has be.u hiii'dhd. Nothing could be more crtwit'iiis than such an idea, for notwithstanding that all those conditions might \ have bcrrii complied with, a production ; c»tild still be utterly void of one grain of p.»etrv, or poetic inspiration. It is the sentiments produced, the sublime ideas embodied in the verses which constitutes true poetry, and touches the heart-. Take. for insane;, some of the blank-verse writings of Mr. Bracken-notably his address, delivered by idmseif «n stoji of the O'CoiineH Centenary, every line of which glisten.-; with some beautiful idea, and might he aptly styled " the language of mortals with seraphs wings. Take 'the second vers;' — A hundred rear? to-day, and in that fair U.'Whieh r.-t an e-e.'rald ornament is set | Above Atlantic's palpitating heart, I Th-• Power Sin>r..-me. who guides Creation's j y_- ~■!;., i A ad mot::-. Is Hi- e>vat;:ivs .Uptimes at will, Looked .i'uvii with pity on an enslaved race, I Arid hid :i c'U'-r.t live t" retitl their chain*. [Then ftv.-.hu soar,.-I above Killarney's And hreethed on wild Magilli-nddy's Hecks; And in the peaceful home of !>erryname That :!■':!'.- in the arm-* of 'serry s hills The ].;i>.-i-.-.'.,,r of hi.- laud was born. A h«;>. dre-l y-ars ago to-day : hook l.p.ek A.-ro-. the g:df. and n-te how times have duTiged: Tive er.--teh::: ; ; hoiid>man ■ -:i the o'her side p.e.i : ; low '.vit!i f--rvel :-Mhi>ii-sivei;e--. nor dare; T > 1-4; up t < hi • Maker, sevc by health : Ti- ,:- : r,:e he him t-- •: M his .--.id his own. 1 *;t:t !• : tvl-.vt -n the banks of Now and Then A ehieUr-hi -tan!-, wiiii head erect and p:-...d J'hid hj» th>- armour of a nghteoa-; cause, And lighting with tho.-e weapons of the - : The •• Voiee and Pen:' and as his glowing w-ords i :;• :'. o:> to Heaven, :':;mberh:g .Ju-tice i ' " ™^- | A htm-lred ye-.rs to-day : th.- tm e teem- | re; M, - ;. Aim v-i '.vifhiu ihit .-r-itury the ear!.i J::,.! , e-:te- d her ;'••:•-. fee Fin.»::c;--, of Slight Have hewn away th-: rotten trunks of V.'r nThr/ --reve uinii her lavas!;, and sapped the spr'ng-: Of nutriment from out her br. om's core. "I'd ;ti! her weaker pia-.u's could seareely live : And in the vancmar.'. of that noble host n"('.»:ne!i ,to>d.- the people's crow ides-: Kin:. Pointing in triumph to the tracks he'd el-a-ed j To Para tie. where souls might freely soar I The w;iy v>hieh pleated them best, to meet j their < I.",!. | Here we have the very essence of poetry ! in the beautiful concept, on of "that fair Isle, which as an em'rald ornament is .set above Atlantic's palpitating heart"; raid what tMii be more poetic than the description of the gulf of Time, bridged over by ' the hundred yt a.rs, while the chieftain [ tov.efs giant-like between the b'anks of i 2vow and Then, \gain, in the third verse. - liow graphically is depicted the hewing I ,i\v;>.v of i::e "rotten trunks of Wrong : that :;iew tipon her breast, and sapped the ! snvings of nutriment from out her bosom's ' core." The volume opens with the New i Zealand Actional Hymn, which is now set ! to mu.sic. and which, if 3lr. Bracken had i I written nothing else, is destined to hand !his name down to posterity, like that of Key, the author of the "Star Spangled

Banner." In the lines on the death of Miss Hattie Shepparde the spirit of the true poet breathes in every line. What beautiful idea is conveyed in the following metaphor! — The Phantom Eeaper wandered 'midst the the bowers Of youth and hope—by God himself designed — A full-blown rose fell amongst the withered flowers, One tender little bud remained behind. Thalia's tears came on Spring's sunny showers, And dark Melpomene moaned on the wind. After inquiring why the young, the gifted, and the beautiful are called away, the author thus pays the following pathetic tribute to genius : Tis vain to ask, and yet thou canst not spare The gifted children nurtured on thy breast. When Gordon fell the Muse.was in despair; The drama wept when Rodgers passed to rest ; And now the stage is draped in sombre care Since Hattie Shepparde joined the troupe of blest. In the first verse the author alludes to the young actress as the "full blown rose," i while the " tender little bud " is the baby which survived its mother's death for some months. It is in pieces, like the above, and others of a kindred nature, such as " hi Memoriam, David Livingstone," and '•' Kobert Burns," that the soul of the author is deeply moved, and the poetic fire most apparent. He revels in metaphor, and his fancy knows no rein. i When Livingstone is named, what fool shell dare ' To boast of war's red tyrants, robed in j blood •'. I Who sacrifice their serfs for vulture's fare, j Who call it glory to give ravens food. Xo cultivated sigh, nor polished tear Bedecks the couch whereon the hero sic-ps ; A purer tribute falls upon his bier, I'or lo ! above his corse the savage weeps. To our mind, however, the gem of the volume is the poem to the memory of Kobert Burns, written upon his 114 th anniversary. The piece is of such merit that it is a matter of impossibility to make an extract without robbing it of much of its beauty, and therefore we give it in its entirety:— Proud glorys wreath may crown the warrior's lll'il, And victory's trophies rise above his dust, Fame's torch awhile nr.vy o'er his cashes burn, but time will quench it, and his sword shall rust. A grateful nation o'er the statesman's tomb May trumpet forth his labors in her cause, But other lights her councils may illume, And time's progressive wheel roll o'er his laws. But who, or what, can shroud the poet's fame ? While Nature's mighty form towers over art, No power on earth can blot his sacred name When once 'tis written on his country's heart. J. love thee, Kngland, for thy manly race. My native land, I love thee for thy | wrongs ; Ciimc of the barren brow and rugged face— Scotland—l love thee for thy deathless songs. Well may'st thou point with triumph and with pride | Unto thy patriot heroes of the past; Well rnay'st thou tell the nations how they That liberty might breathe thy northern blast. But there's a son of thine whose genius sheds More lustre round thee than thy bravest king. Thy torrents rushing from their mountain beds Till Nature's voice is mute, his praise shall sing. For thee he struck a chord whose magic ! strain i ! Runs through thy children's hearts o'er j all the earth, ' And links them in a fond magnetic chain Whose load-stone is the island of their birth. To Nature's throne he offered heartfelt praise— He scourged hypocrisy with satire's rod : Tn stirring tones he called on man to raise His head erect, a reflex of his God. I lie robbed the angels of their sweetest notes, And v. hen descending through the speckless dome He caught the echoes of the lavrocks throats,

And brought them to thy peasant's humble home. Roll on Old Earth unto thy final goal, | As o'er each century thine axle turns ; New wreaths of song shall blazon music's scroll As tributes to the memory of Burns. There is a beautiful incident—founded on fact —woven into song, entitled, " The Mother's Grave," which is touchingly sweet in its simplicity, and goes directly to the heart. The author was Wandering through a City of the Dead when he saw two small children industriously employed at a grave, which was tastefully decked with flowers. Thinking that they were plucking them, he went towards them, and in a shai'p tone inquired their occupation. The older of the two, who was not quite ten years, held down her head, while the tears fell fast, but made no reply. On, however, the question being repeated, she looked up, and bursting into tears, replied, "Oh, sir, this is my dear mother's grave, and I'm plucking away the weeds." But the muse of Mr. Bracken is not always in a pathetic or mournful mood, and occasionally carols forth in song, while the inspiriting lines of the "Tramp of the Five Brigade," and " Gaullin a duel," rise to epic grandeur. The latter secured the prize offered by the Caledonian Society in 1871, and is well worthy of the award bestowed. Our space will not permit of us making extract of more than one verse, which will give ample evidence of its patriotic and inspiriting nature : Treasure the chaplets your fathers have wreathed ! Treasure the records of fame they've bequeathed ! For them and for you bonnie Scotland has breathed The lays of the brave and the songs of the leal. Strike for the dear island mothe" that bore you !. Strike for the banner so proud floating o'er you ! Strike for auid Scotland —the foe is before you ! Shouther to shouthcr, lads Guallm a Chiel. Napoleon once said, " Let me write the songs of a nation, and I care not who makes its laws," and, after reading the inspiriting words of " Guallin a Chiel," or listening to the wildly patriotic strains of "The Watch on the Rhine," one can readily acknowledge the wisdom of the great warrior in his high estimate of patriotic songs as a motive power. Although " Flowers of the Free Lands " contain a choice selection of over eighty pieces, it docs not by any means represent all Mr. Bracken's contributions, and it is a matter for regret that those gems of satire, "Paddy Murphy's Political Letters " have not been introduced into the volume. As specimens of point and sarcasm, they are simply inimitable, and give ample evidence of the versatility of the writer and the large domain over which his Muse is allowed to wander. In the Colonies we are too apt to undervalue local talent, and to imagine that because the author is one of ourselves, he cannot be possessed of more than ordinary ability. Had Farjeon remained in Dunedin, and had he written and published " Joshua Marvel " and all his later works in tlic columns of the Witness, he would never be said to have the mantle of Dickens on his shoulders, and literary fame would be a thing unknown to him. Had Alfred Tennyson been unfortunate enough to see the light of day in the Colonies, he might have written "Locksley Hall" and " The Charge of the Light Brigade," and still never have seen Poet Laureate to his name. Wallace's " Mariana " would have long since passed into obscurity, and its author forgotten if a recognition of its merit was dependant upon a Colonial verdict; and Akhurst would not now be i-eclconecl one of the first living burlesque writers, sharing the laurels with Byron and Planche, had he remained a rer porter on the Melbourne Herald. We are quite sure that, much as the real lovera of poetry will prize the book and welcome ts advent, there are thousands of soulless clods who will be unable to recognise its merit, or value the many beauties which it contains. No one who takes up " Flowers of the Free Land " can lay it down again without being impressed with the genius of the author, his depth of thought, the beauty of his metaphors, and the chas.'eiess of the language us ad. Queensland is proud of her gifted son

Brunton Stephens; New South. Wales points with pride to one whose name will yet be blazoned on the scroll of f^rfiie — Henry Kendall; Victoria mourns the tragic fate of the hapless child ;6f Song— Adam Gordon ; but while Ireland, the land of his birth, lays prior claim, New Zealand, that of his adoption, can point with pride to one who, either in prose or poetry, as an elocutionist or a lecturer, is equally at home, and is well worthy of sharing the chaplets bestowed upon Domett. The book itself is splendidly got up, and as a piece of artistic workmanship, reflects the very highest credit upon the publishers, Messrs. Mills, Dick, and Go. It is printed on toned paper, each page being decorated with a colored border, and the chapters commencing with prettily-designed ornamental letters. The binding, which is the work of Mr. A. R. Livingstone, is also entitled to especial commendation, the ornamental work on the outside of the volume being specially designed for the work. Independently, then, to the charm it will possess for all lovers of poetry and the beautiful, the outside appearance of the book is so creditable that we expect to see " Flowers of the Free Land " a bouquet upon every table.