POETRY.
THE NEW LUCIAN.
WE reproduced last week, in our notice of Mr. Trail's book, "The New Lucian," the remarkable dedication prefixed to his volume, as one of the most interesting passages which it con- tained. It runs (for it will well bear repetition) To E. T." :—
"Live joyfully with the wife whom thou lovest all the days of the life of thy vanity, which He bath given thee under the sun all the days of thy vanity : for that is thy portion in this life, and in thy labour which thou takest under the sun. Whatsoever thy band Sndeth to do, do it with thy might ; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave, whither thou goest."— Eccl. ix., 9, 10.
"What matter though such things have never been, Nor shall be ? the Ecclesiast hath said.
Though but in mockery the Samosatene Imagined his confabulating dead ?
What matter though nor knowledge nor device, Nor work nor wisdom in the grave there be ?— Does not the Preacher bid us once and twice Live out in joy love's life of vanity ?
So live we, then ! nor heed what whisper tells That closest union heaviest reckoning pays In shock of loss and anguish of farewells At that eternal parting of the ways."
Mr. Edwin Arnold has since sent us the following poetic rejoinder :—
[To H. D. TRULL, on the Dedication of "The New Lucian."]
"At that eternal parting of the ways," Thou say'st, good Friend ! looking to see it come When hands which cling, unclasp ; arms disembrace; And lips, that murmured love to lips, are dumb. Aye ! it will come—the bitter hour !—but bringing A better love beyond, more subtle-sweet; A higher road to tread ; with happier singing, And no cross-ways to part familiar feet! Smil'st thou, my later Lucian ! knowing so well
Hope's under-ache, Faith's fallacies all sped ? Yet THAT which gave thee thy fair gift, to tell
How in Elysium chat th' unsilenced Dead, Shall some day whisper : "Lo! the Life Immortal ! Enter ! For thee stands wide the golden portal !"
EDWIN ARNOLD.
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