THE SOLEMN SEASON

Waipa Post, Volume 46, Issue 3309, 30 March 1933, Page 5

THE SOLEMN SEASON

AND THE CALL TO POETRY.

(By G.R.) Of arts, disclosed in ancient days, I And venture to unlock the sacred spring. ( Georgics JIV. 174. It is probable the first poets were found at the altar, that they employed their talents in adorning and animating the worship of their gods. The sH-rit of poetry and religions reciprocally warmed each other, devotion inspirted poetry, and poetry exalted devotion. The most sublime capacities were put to the most noble use; purity of will and fineness of understanding ere not seen strangers as they have been in later ages, but were most frequently lodged in the same breast, and went, as it we're, hand in hand to the glory of the world's great ruler, and the benefit of mankind. To reclaim our modern poetry, and turn it into its due and primitive channel would be a worthy endeavour Kingdoms might be the better for the conversion of the muses, from sensuality to natural religions, and princes on their thrones might be protected by its power. All kinds of poetry are amiable, but sacred poetry should be our most especial delight. Other poetry leads us through flowery meadows or beautiful gardens, refreshes us with cooling breezes or delicious fruits, soothes us with the murmur of waters or the melody of birds, or else /conveys us to the court or camp; dazzles our imagination with crowns and sceptres, embattled hosts, or heroes shining in burnished steel, but sacred numbers seem to admit us into a solemn and magnificent temple; they encircle us with every thing that is holy and divine, they superadd jan agreeable awe and Teverahce to all" those pleasing emotions we feel from, other lays, an alwe and reverance that exalts, while its chastises: Its sweet authority restrains each undue liberty qf,,thought, word and action. It makes us'think better and more nobly of ourselves, from a consciousness of the great presence we are in, where sains surround us, and angels are our fellowworshippers.

O let me glory, glory in my choice; Who should I sing, but Him who gave

me voice. This theme shall last, when Homer's shall decay, When arts, arms, kings and kingdoms melt away. And can it, powers immortal, can it be, That this high province was reserved for me? Whate'er the new, the rash adventure cost, 3!n wide eternity I dare be lost. I dare launch out, and show the muses more, Than e'er the learned sisters saw before. • In narrow limits they were wont to sing, To teach the swain, or celebrate the King; '•■: I grasp the whole, no more to parts confined, I lift my voice, and sing to humankind: I sing to men and angels; angels join " While such the theme," their sacred hymns with mine. But besides the greater pleasure, which we receive from sacred poetry, it has another vast advantage above all others. When the mighty genius of the place covers us with an invisible hand, secures us in the enjoyments we possess. We find a kind of refuge in our pleasure, and our diversion becomes our safety. Why, then, shpuld not every heart cry out in the holy warmth of the best poet that ever lived. "J. will magnify thee, O Lord, my King, and I will praise Thy name for ever and ever." That greater benefit may be reaped from sacred poetry than from any other is indisputable; but is it capable of yielding such exquisite delight? Has fit a title only to the regard of the serious and aged Is it only to be read on Sundays, and to be bound in black? Or does it put in for the good esteem of the gay, the fortunate, the young. Can is rival a ball or theatre, or give pleasure to those who are conversant with beauty, and have their palates set high with all the, delicacies of human wit? That poetry gives us the greatest pleasure which affects us most, which is on a subject in which we have the deepest concern. All other poetry, must be dropped at the gate of death, this alone can enter with us into mortality. It will admit of an' improvement only, not an entire alteration from the converse of Cherubim and Seraphim. It shall never die, but be the pleasure of eternity, and the laudable ambition of heaven; How I then, can any other poetry come in. competition With it?

Whatever great or dreadful has beeit done, Within the view of conscious stars or sun, Is far beneath my daring. I look downOn all the splendours of the British crowns. This globe is for: my verse a narrow bound, Attend me, all ye glorious world's around, Oh, all ye spirits, howsoe'er disjoined, Of every various order, place and kind, Hear and assist a feeble mortal's lays, 'Tis your eternal King I strive to praise. The verses used in this paper are taken from.a. poem oil- the " Last Day," which was first printed in 1714, and I think were written by Dr Young. ... -■« :.;.-.