A NEW POET.

Otago Witness, Volume 06, Issue 2899, 6 October 1909, Page 82

A NEW POET.

[ A century ago, says the London Spectator, ip reviewing: -*£.jra iivan^jeliasrica. z Missionary A ersco of Masnonftl-iuF' (by Artnur oneariy Cripps), v.ion old conventions -ruled in poetry, the poet of a new land prided himself on counting kin- with the past. He wrote of the desert or Mie praine with a memory of the classics; Aurora and Hesperus and Pan filkd their pans in his versus; and rude as the faavagery might be, he wried.to end in it some iijnt of Arcady. No doubt there was tinsel in tr.e tasnion. In fcee-pii>g the old •:ot< he often lost the new, and tne poetry of a strange world was apt to be only an ' echo of familiar conventions. Mr Kipling ! and his rmitarors have discarded the" an- ; tique manner, and have written poetyy with ! tho rough tang of the wilderness in every, "j line — postry wliich at its best eonstitcvCa a i ni3w literary form with its roniar.i>2, sought ] by the methods of ur.comproznising realism, j , But ro art can continue in isolatiioii. As it attains to maturity it casts back for jrelaionship, ar.d it is Aery significant that in tie best of his recent poetry Mr Kipiing i:as striven to wed old and new, to %rait ] tho classic graces on a su-ange stock. In Mr Arthur Cripps we- have a poet of a wild land who « ill net consent for one moment to forget the* classic tradition. He has the keenest and freshest powers of observation-, he can catch a strnnge atmosphere, and bo &ansitive to all Ihe subtleties of vii'gin soil. ! But at heart hs k a classic. He is a missionary, but ho will have none of the" oorainon missionary vfpw. He demands th^> g:r-eaf Catholic tradition ; h-e sees around •him the higii rituaJ -nl tae m>&di£Eval Church ; ami his task in hie eyes has all the glamour of a Crusada. Mashomlar,d i-3 to him authentic Arcady, a-nd with a ! poet's eye he can nead in its savagery the 1 old songs of Hollas. W« oan best, illustrate the poiiuc by quoting from his "Shcp1 herds to Shepherds," an appeal "to Oxford scholars on bobalf of the Mashonas as j against certain mining '"nterests" : — Ye that love the sheepfold song 3of the dead so well — Ye that dresm white nights of yours in deep Tempe's deil — ! Ye that in yom visions pl 7 shepherd's , orook and re<;d — ' Strive and cry for \rcady in her year of need ! Rally to them in their strait, pasture, tilth, and stall, — • Hilly to our succour ye, we be shepherds : in! Arcady? Ye?, Arcady, ours the sacred name! ! What i! this &rey river-chine- hath not j Ladon's fame ? ' In the chill vext roomings here goats and j eoat-hpro's come, j In tho still bright evenings hence wead our j cattle home. Harsh the clash of locking horns! Hovt. I the red bull sways' ■ Chape the thieving goats aivay from the tufted maize! Yon black bull shall glut the. feast that shall bring the rain. Yonder sroat make glad hi^ ghost, his that sowed the grain. , Think ye that our threshing floors are of I "awn forlorn 9 HaTk that iau c ic where our clubs bruise the ! millet corr — Beatms t'll Ihe sreen rough heaps spill their trpi<mre brown. Li=t thp Lit} erses-chant as they thunder I down ' ' | List a lilt of robber men come to drive I tho cou ' ' Li=t a hit of one that's loth, will not marry j now I Boorish thou^li th-e burden be, ye will 1 nnder^arirl. • Shadow oi Theocritus' Ye will sa^e cur 'and! i By the red ore that we forge, dashing stone on stone. By tho thatched town 3on the hills that ■were once our own. By our furrow-ed garden-ground, by our dappled flocks, By the grave? our cold folk fill under burning: rocks — Rally to them in their strait, pasture, tilth, and stall. Rally to our succour, ye, we be shepherds •all! The poem Is not Mr Cripps's finest work, but, it is his most typical. I The title of this little book looks at first as if it had b<>en chosen 'n the same spirit . as Borrows "Bible ,in Spain." "Lyra Evangolistica" sugesta a collection of hymns 1 after the Dattern of "Sacred Songs and Solos." But the name, especially in its i humility, is characteristic of the poet. He is _ before all things a missionary and a priest. In hia eaored verses there is a note which, save for Francis Thompson, and in a lesser degree Father Tabb, is absent fronv English poetry since Christina Roasetfci — the unmistakable note of ecstasy. He sings the festivals and high -days of the Church with » richness of devotion whiah reflects itself in his Elizabethan verse. He finds altars in waste places, and refreshments in thirsty lands. TJie slow, iip-hill task of the missionary ie so glorified in hi* eyes that all romance dwells in its humblest , offtoe*. But this high absorption is never

6trained or fantastic, for in all the poems there 16 a discipline 'both of speech and form. "All Saints' Day," for example, Js a riot of rich images, but all are con- ; trolled by and subordinated to a fine sim- ' plicity of- conception. Mr Oripps is especi- | oily skilful in pregnant similes. Take this from "Good Friday at a Mission Altar" : " Thou sayest this sad day 4 1 thirst* agfein, , And I", remembering 1 how to ease Thy pain, Some harsh-faced Boinan stained and seared with war Gave 'Xhee His vinegar, (And earned a fuller comfort than he gave), Go forth to seek , for Thee at Thy behest 2Cot only such sua.ve souls >as please me best,. But rough sour souls that Thoii didst parch to saye 1 ! He has always the air of a pilgrim .to | whom the world is a road, and he makes [ out of the discomforts of travel a ritual of ; casa in suca poems as "Ad Yiam Viator," the "Lightning Sosg,". and "The Veld Fires' Vision." He has something of the Franciscan tenderness towards the earth, as in the beautiful "Franciscan Prayer." Woquote, .as an example of his sacred poetry;'•For Saint Cecily's Day,"- which embodies. his best qualities : t , — '• How fax cxc viols and' organs, and how unite Our shepherds and our song-birds! Yet, my saint, • Your feast-day lacks n<4 , here the shrill lias flute Of noon-tide cicale and- the full-horned plains Of sunsst-dove. What gold an-d silver noise Thrills with yon dipping sun, yon moon's arch poise! i O blue Xovernber ekies so tense and clear, I see you thrilliapr. Could I only r hear! But you dro far; in vain mine ears must ache, For. 'tis 1 but whispered music that ye make — She is" to y-ou so n«ar.> •. - Thi kst lines of this* lit tie poem nYusfc deli?hfc the heart of-aIL-true lovers' -of poetry. . •• - - ' -" Theseculor. JSoutl* African poems are tew. som«-fimes 2tlr d-^prs vrrites a native balladlike "Love Pagan," very, simple in form", but full of fire and music. . Sometimes ho .r-cfiwts upo.i a past joua-risjr'and thincs seen with a gusto of enjoyment which has rfo literary affectation in it." B«t he If bestv perheps. in v his short pieces; cut like-. _:c jewel, for which tlie-trwe mcdel is the «piprams o£ ihe Greek Anfchplcsry. Here ,i* one which, recalls thcee . earlier mcdels: — . POUND "STARVED. - (In «. Masbona'.and- G-arden.) Dire P-ate-, .availing not t-o -bead him. broke! Ha his neck to up rte.p-fath:>r's yoke Subraissively for fi'l of blows pr bread. . On E?rth his mother's love in love lie ler.Tied — • ' A suckling from her furrowed breasts xm-v,-caned. • This v--ear h«r dugs ran dry — and he i 3 dead. _ , ,» Cripps s the fco of the rnine-owr^r and t'.ie protector of the, old inhabitants, but bo can reeasaisa the grec>tness of tt'i orjp<^ri"'r:t. No more a-deauate epitaph on Cecil Rhoc'.'?s has been written than this: — God be with you in your need! When G-cd's mills have giround you thrcugh— All fee coarse cruel ' cßaff' oi you ff "B.^ there left one seed to sovr Which in season tr*y unfoM < Your visioc«-ry mi?ht of - o!d — L-iko E«me fecund virte to sprawl On the widths of Sinn's wall — In penitence inipsria.l! ■ But it is the fate of e-xil<»s. howsvp-r deep their love for the land of 'their adoption, to wrive bpsb under the wetafht of homesickness. The v^rs'-s on "Essex"' bay- an ache in them witicli no' reader can feel unmoved. They are too lor.^ to quote, buf as an instance of this note, which is never far diptarsfc from v.-ltat seems lx> us the most remarkable bock of poetry issued of <ate, we quota the s'.icrt pic.cc, "Encamped in April." It wiil be rerrembered that tha English spring is South Africa's autumn r — Wrap your eyes, lie deaf ard blind I Fear the hums and stings! Yet fear more the thmsh's bill rhat in England sings. Press the torn hem to your eyes On your cold bill bed! Lest they spy (■cms painted meadGold and white and red. Ail in vaiu! With Sleep's grey fall Birds flute, fiow'rs aris*, When you wake tike autumn stars Shine on shivering eyes.