CURRENT LITERATURE.
Poems. By William Edward Hartpole Lecky. (Longmans.)— The author of " The History of England in the Eighteenth Century " has so high a place in literature, that he cannot fail to attract attention to any work he may publish. This little volume of Poems, "written in many years and in many moods," comes before us with the novelty of unexpectedness. We did not know that the historian had ever, to use an old-fashioned phrase, "dallied with the Muses," and the announcement of Poems by Mr. Herbert Spencer or by Professor Huxley could not have surprised us more than the advertisement of Mr. Lecky's poetical venture. Let us say at once, for the plainest words are the best in a case like this, that Mr. Lecky is not a poet, nor is he even one of those accomplished versemen who stand, as it were, on the borderland of poetry, and are yet unable to cross over and " drank the milk of Paradise." Mr. Lecky may be forgiven if he has been under some illusion with regard to the real value of his poems. To him they will be dear as landmarks recalling the memories of his past life. To him they may speak with a voice that is sometimes soothing, and sometimes pathetic ; and speaking thus, he may think that they will also quicken the imagina- tion of his readers. Unfortunately, however, the divine spark is wanting, and it is only fire that can kindle fire. In these lyrics there is culture, refinement, and occasionally some delicacy of versification; but beyond this scanty measure of praise it is impossible for the critic to go. Two short lyrics shall be quoted, which will perhaps convey the best impression of Mr- Lecky's craft; but we must premise that the bulk of the verse does not reach the level of the gracefully written poems we have selected :—
" FLOW ON, SWIFT STREAM.
Flow on, swift stream, amid the flowers, Flow on and dance with joy, And tell me of the happy hours When I was yet a boy. I watched thee with the loved ones then, Now all alone I come again To wander by the river ; And I am old and they are gone, But it unchanged is gliding on
As young and bright as ever.
Unchanged it seems, yet who can stay l he water's ceaseless motion? The little waves of yesterday To-day have reached the ocean ; Unmarked, unmissed. they swiftly fly, Unmarked, nnmissed, we too must die, And leave the mighty river, Where youth, and joy, and love and strife, And all the various modes of life, Flow on unchanged for ever."
" MARRIRD LIFE.
Two flowers blossom on one stem, Two streamlets mingling nun ; And love and habit blending make Two lives as truly one : One in each int'rest, hope, and fear, Whatever chance betide; One in affection's bond, though two To comfort, strengthen, guide.
When Passion's torrid zone is past, Hearts only draw more near, And silent sympathies of love Strike deeper year by year, When every little fault is seen, And every fleeting mood, And all the nobler impulses
Are shared and understood,—
Yet still our secret, sep'rate dread
Will sometimes cloud each mind- Ah ! which must face this cruel world
When left alone behind?"
Mr. Lecky's poems are dedicated to his wife, and their obvious truthfulness of affection and sympathy will make them a welcome home-gift. They will have also an interest for readers who have hitherto only known the author as a historian, but it is not the interest excited by the discovery of a new poet.
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