28 DECEMBER 1934, Page 24

The Peak of English Poetry

THERE is no space here to bandy words with those who do not agree with the title of this article ; but let them consider that this was the age of Donne, Milton, Dryden and Marvell, of Chapman, Herbert, Crashaw and Traherne, not to mention a host of minor writers, Herrick, Rochester, Waller and the like ; that it was an age of experiment and achievement,

after the tyranny of foreign forms had been thrown off:; and finally that this volume would include Shakespeare had he not adorned the volume dealing with the previous century.

When an anthology such as this is placed in the hands of a reviewer, he does not waste time to wonder if it is good, backed as it is by such names. What he will do is to look and see, with more than usual eagerness, whether any of his favourites commonly omitted from anthologies are there, what is offered to him that he did not know before (a reviewer has occasionally to pretend ignorance to mollify the reader), and what changes in text there may be. In this instance he will not even look at either Donne or Milton, knowing that the selection will be as good as is humanly possible, since Professor Grierson's name is on the cover. But Dryden, now ; how has Dryden fared ? Generously, it must be admitted, but one could wish that instead of the passages from his earlier work he had been revealed for the superb song-writer he was, and so extraordinarily varied.

There is, indeed, " Farewell ungratefull Traytor," and one other, but we would like at least a dozen more : " After the pangs of a desperate Lover," the Song of Venus, and surely The Lady's Song should be there. And since we have Jonson's " Slow, slow, fresh fount," would it not have been interesting to have " Ah fading joy " ?—to which one would add one of those in very slow measure, such as " No, no, poor suitring heart." And where, oh where, is the Secular Ode ? But it may be argued that Dryden is great as a satirist, a narrative poet, and a ratiocinative one ; and these aspects are beautifully illustrated. • The Metaphysicals are, it goes without saying, admirably selected, but here, alas, one wish—perhaps very personal— is disappointed. Why will no anthologist give us Aurelian Townshend's " Through regions farr devided " ? It is in some ways an ungainly poem, the conceit rather far-fetched, but, as Dr. Johnson would say, it was well worth the carriage ; and if the metre is obvious, it is carried through with such superb vigour :

" How slow alasse are paces Compar'd to thoughts that flye

In moment back to places, Whole ages scarce descry. The body must have pauses ; The mynde requires no rest ; Love needs no second causes To guide thee to my breast."

One can be pernickety and pick holes in it, but is it not worthy to be remembered ? There' is another poem, too, I hoped to see, by Wanley, on the Resurrection :

" Can death be faithfull or the Grave be just Or shall my tombe restore my scattred dust Shall ev'ry hair find out its proper pore And crumbled bones be joined as before And long•unpractised pulses learne to beats Victorious rottennesse a loud retreate . . . "

I hoped, because I only know a scrap of it, which I cut out from some paper, and find gummed into the fly-leaf of my copy of Professor Grierson's Metaphysical Poetry from Donne to Butler."

The curious will no doubt find some interesting changes of text ; but this requires time, and only one has so far struck me, with respect to Etherege's two-stanza song, " It is not, Celia, in our pow'r . . .," which here becomes a four- stanza poem beginning " Chloris, 'tis not in your power," and as here printed is a far better poem than the one we are familiar with, of a deeper tone than is usual with " gentle George." Apart from the two fresh stanzas, which make all the difference, the old

" And since we mortal Lovers are,

- Ask not how long our love will !sat"

with its too glib alliteration, becomes

" Then since we mortal Lovers are Let's question not how long 'twill last,"

while the last stanza gives us an Etherege who is almost Congrevian.

Of things we are glad to see there is Denhiun's poem on Cowley, though we should have preferred, to companion it, the lines on Stratford rather than the more familiar extract from " Cooper's Hill," where Thames is praised for not being like a mother who overlays her child. We welcome copious extracts from Fulke Greville, and are delighted to have Marvell's " When for the Thorns with which I long, too long," though that one would expect from the present editors. Amongst the unknown, to me at least, are poems by Francis and Robert Sempill, to the English ear precursors of Burns ; and who, it may be asked, was Clement Paman ? He flourished 1660, and wrote a charming poem to his heart on Christmas Day. There are, in fact, a thousand delightful things one could pick out from this brilliant and scholarly collection, and it only remains to say that it is beautifully presented in the way of which the Clarendon Press alone seems to have the secret. One does wish, however, though one knows the wish is vain, that the Delegates could see their way to abandoning their irritating and time-wasting habit of indexing by numbers, instead of using the far more convenient way of letting us know directly on what page the extract we are looking for is to be found.

BONAMY DOBREE.