AMONG THE BOOKS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2565, 13 May 1903, Page 60

AMONG THE BOOKS.

THE WEST WIND. By Hcbert CnuECH. Sydney : Bulletin Publishing Company. This littl green volume, representing number five of those "Bulletin Booklets" which have from time to time come under our notice, contains much of sweetness and grace. It is not great talent or stimulating power and vitality which speaks from the drowsy sweetness of Mr Church's verses. Let us be content, however, with a host A pleasant images, a score of charming pictures painted by the sensuous memory in terms of refined and cultured phrase. Many of the sonnets and verses have been inspired by New Zealand scenes and associations, as rt A Swallow in Maoriland," "Akaroa Heads," "Bowen Falls" (Which one? We know at least half a dozen."), "Sinclair Head,"' etc. Sweetness, warmth, colour, light, the inweaving of all these into a hundred different themes employ this minor poet, yet not exclusively — "Doubt" speaks from his lips with pathetic realism in these lines : Faintly I hpar forpottpn be'ls Upon th" motin'ain side where dwells The secret brook that noured for me An oracle of days to be. Ah! bells thit trembled holy joy Into the soft heart of the boy, Ah! brook that whispered of a God "Where'er you melted through the sod: Come to me with your ancient dower. Dew me with the mystrrioii3 power, .Restore the melody of faith That once was more to me than death t In vain I call— yet co.nnot tell, And 'I no more from brook or bell Take to my soul delicious rest, And find a God within my breast. There are moments when the poetic impulse is so seconded, by the poetic insight and inspiration that the result is truly beautiful, as in the second part of "At Her' Gate" : One bird upon the roof, A chorister frrlorn, Sings to the cloistered morn Hid in her c'oudy woof. A song that doth unfold Itself in plaited gold. Sins whnt I ne'er can say— The wave may love the shore, The flowers the dews that pour; The tired winds love to stay On cliffs where moss has lain, Spent with the toiling main. Dearer to me one heart Where I would love to dwell, Woven with magic spell Into its inner part, Sunk in its secrecy Like a stai in the sea. And, again, in the "Sonnet to a Seashell," what absolute beauty of poetic insight lies in these concluding lines : ! So all my heart is cne vo'uted fold, Shielding one face, and evermore it seems Upon the threshold of the prying day, Hid in the tangle of reluctant dreams; And in the noontide and the evening grey Its light illumines secrecie3 untold. More quotations might jc made in support of tne writer's claim to a true poetic insight as well as a rich visual memory; but~we think that enough has been said to show that if Mr Church's style is not great or virile, it is eminently pleafiing and graceful.

— Th" market gardeners round Pai cultivate the df.nt.k-'.ion on a large scale, and sell it fcr good prices in the market. — A Russian doctor, chief of cne of the military hospitals of St. Petersburg, has ni.iile a discovery wliieh he claims will t-li-mimate many of tho risks incident to the u-»e of chloroform in eurgieal operations. He lias arrived at the conclusion that blue litrht pos»cs~ea the propertice of killing pain. His first experiment wa made quito recently. During ths operation he, so to speak, etcencd hi/, patient in a flood of blue electric light. The operation lasted fully 20 minutce, and th patient, who had not bccoi put tc sleep by any artificial means, found it almost painless.

— At the recont charity fancy fair at Nice none of the men wore worried to buy, as they had all purchased a badge, price 20fr (16s), which exempted them from all importunities from saleswomen. These badges purported to be those of the "Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Men." Most of the gentlemen "pent % good deal, but it was .it their omn pleasure, Baxaar promoterF might make a profit out of thia way of buying immunity.