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New Zealand Tablet, 29 April 1920, Page 26

NOTES

Poems by Seumas O'Sullivan

From Maunsels we have received a slender volume of poems by Seumas Sullivan. The -little sheaf of verses here collected will add to the reputation already made by the poet's previous work. There is the same realism, the same intensity, the same clearness of vision that distinguished his already ' well-known verses, and there is also a security and a mastery of touch that mark the man who has arrived. To our readers the verses which were written in memory of Erin's latest heroes will appeal. Best of all, we think, is the 'following poem dedicated to the memory of gentle Sean Mac Dermot, whom Maxwell slaughtered; as he slaughtered the other patriots, after they had surrendered and laid down their arms: '; n; "'■" l They have slain you, Sean- MaoDiarmuid; never more these eyes will greet, The eyes beloved by women, and the smile that true men loved. " ' Never more I'll hear the stick-tap, and the gay and limping feet, They have slain you, Sean the gentle, Sean the valiant, Sean the proved. - ■ . Have you scorn for us who linger here behind you, Sean the wise ? As you look about and greet your comrades in the strange new dawn .... * So one says, but, saying, wrongs you, for doubt never dimmed your eyes, ... -i&.dl And not death itself could make those ■ lips of yours grow bitter, Sean. . .■ ...-.," As your gentle stick goes tapping, down the heavenly pavement, Sean, my friend, . That is not your way of thinking, generous; tender, wise, and brave; We, who knew and loved and trusted you, are trusted to the end, '". •_'_..- -.- _-..■ ...... -,,V \] : ..->•.:•£- And your hand even now grips mine as ■ though thei*e r never were a grave;- -? : ;- .«& ■■' -■•'- ■'""■„ **!*' And here is. a poem that brings to life. again brave,, debonair Tom MacDonagh, who also died for Ireland; and whom Irish men and women will never forget:— You who garnered all that old song could give you, And rarer music in places where the bittern cries, .vj Zi What new strange symphonies, what new music thrills you •" -o.wutfts km* »7&iJ r.-6'H Flashing in light-loud. : magic beneath wildering skies ? Singer of dawn songs, you who drink now at the foun- : ■■" stains,'; ;.v.•.;.;-•" i.-;-r&l± .^./^yixfr:w Cry-out.as your own poet of the bittern cried, ':^.; Flood that new - song deep-drunken, rapturous about U 3, ?So shall these parched sad hearts drink deep,be satisfied. ""'' - "

: In three fin© stanzas he commemorates all the leaders who gave their • lives that- the soul of Ireland might ' live: - • ' J ' : ~- x '• - - , "' *m Where loud-voiced/leaders/-vaunt a claim iu\ •':--:•: They have no place, they have no name, ■-.' :::. The tenders of the Phoenix Flame: Ds :; >i; ; ivd Without a word, without a sign, :' ; bka They move upon that old divine - v - High ? mission at the inward shrine. *v.im Yet they have more enduring place, % ' ;r . '■-•The' men of -''.lreland's hero race, And they have names that still can stir The deep unconquered- heart of her. The indomitable soul of unconquered Erin has its voice in the poem :• j' ' \y. Resurgam. I will not have your scorn, immortal voices, Not yet the sunset sees, my sails unfurled, The torturing fire wherein my heart rejoices Makes dun tho radiance of ■ your tearless world. , For I have fought the old Formorian battle, And seen the shaft of light on darkness hurled, I, too, have driven the herds of-phantom cattle . Over the darkened ridges of the world. I, too, have come with laughter and with singing Out of the winter of the darkened earth, To greet the earthdivine, sweet mother bringing The infant herald of the world's rebirth. These eyes will find again the light denied them. And at the ancient fount undimmed and pure Will find some young eternal joy to guide them . To where the ribald feasters shout secure. Lastly, here, is a picture of the stronghold of British corruption in Ireland: Dublin Castle. Blind as the throng I saw the crowded room, The vacuous smiling of the fools and knaves, To whom men's very souls are but as slaves, Chained each to .each by dire necessity: . Till suddenly one rose up through the gloom, Then sheer across the misty centuries, I knew the love that lit the eager eyes, And forged the fiery tongues of scourging words That slashed and cut like fierce avenging swords, The armor of. their sleek conspiracy. Once more the money changers turn to fly.