the poem to be wanting in any of the essential elements of primitive poetry, except energy. Not that it is entirely devoid of this important element, but the quality of energy it possesses is entirely different from that which glows in every line of Homer, and abounds in every uncouth ballad of the ancient Celtic and Teutonic bards. It is that energy which is more characteristic of modern than of ancient verse. proceeds rather from the intellect than from the heart. It This defect, however, is not very apparent; and since we know that in modern poetry it is inevitable it will be readily forgiven upon discovery. The poem is still fascinating and enjoyable. It still awakes our sympathies with the generous impulses and noble traits of human character which, exhibited in their crude form in the savage, become still more admirable. It possesses those enviable qualities which endear it to every reader. It speaks to every heart. It narrates the Indian legends and addresses them to all mankind. Much of what can be said of the human sentiment and universality of "Hiawatha" is also applicable to "Evangeline" and to the other longer poems of the poet. Space will not permit any more to be said about his longer productions, since the title of this essay demands that some reference be made to his shorter poems. While the merits of "Hiawatha," "Evangeline" and "Miles Standish" are enough to place Longfellow in the foremost ranks of the Nine teenth Century poets, those of his shorter poems especially have secured to him a universal esteem and admiration which few poets, ancient or modern, have been able to attain. Many of these poems are household ornaments of the human mind. Foremost of all is "The Psalm of Life." It is safe to say that there is no poem in the English language more widely read or so familiar to all. Wherever our language is spoken it is known and repeated. It has gone beyond the limits of English literature and its elevating sentiments have found expression in almost every European language. It is even said to have passed the confines of civilization and to have penetrated into the interior of Asia, so that the semi-barbarous youth of some Mongolian tribe when repeating in his native jargon the elevating sentiments of this poem feels some lofty impulse awakened within his breast similar to those which have been felt by many an English-speaking youth upon reading those wellknown verses: "Lives of great men all remind us, We can make our lives sublime; Such universal approbation is the greatest tribute of praise which can be given to any poem. It is an approbation which places the poem beyond the domain of all criticism. Another poem which has won a world-wide popularity is "The Village Blacksmith." It is one of those melodious productions of the poet which dwells in our ears and engraves its lofty sentiments deep in our hearts. The blacksmith is a rugged and yet a noble type of manhood. He is amongst the best known and at the same time the least poetical characters in English poetry. He is presented to the reader as a real hero. But he does not belong to that class of heroes whose valor Homer sings of, in all the overpowering eloquence of the Homeric muse. Neither does he bear any resemblance to the knight errant kind, bent upon the accomplishment of some chivalrous enterprise, such as would furnish material for a song to a poet of the thirteenth century. He belongs to a class of heroes rarely celebrated in poetry. He is a hero in the struggle of daily life. His exploits are his daily bread. His triumphs are told in these lines: His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man." To almost all our other great poets such a hero as the blacksmith would seem unworthy. They would invariably ignore him to celebrate some fabulous personage of a distant age. But the appreciation of what was noble and sublime in human character was too strong in Longfellow to allow him to follow their example. Perhaps he saw that this rugged blacksmith possessed elements of character which might have raised the obscure toiler to a place among the heroes of history whom posterity regard with increasing wonder and amazement. Or perhaps he regarded him as one of those pillars of state upon whose brawny shoulders the proudest em pires and the most opulent republics must ultimately lean for support. Among the other poems which endear Longfellow to all men are those which are expressive of the bereavements which clouded the evening of his life. Besides their various merits they have a special value for us because they bring us in closer touch with the personality of the poet, and they afford us a nearer view of his noble character. No one can read "My Lost Youth," "The Rainy Day," Resignation," and others without feelings of mingled sympathy and admiration. In reading these poems we see the poet struggling with sorrows and trials, never sinking under despair, and never yielding to despondency. His soul seems to soar above the clouds of sorrow, and to bask in the eternal sunshine of Christian hope. 66 'Let us be patient! These severe afflictions But oftentimes celestial benedictions These and many other poems will continue for all time to associate themselves with and to shed a lustre upon the name of Longfellow. They will preserve his name and memory among men, who will ever turn to him as their friend because he speaks to their hearts, appeals to their nobler nature, and cheers them along the rugged pathway of life. Thus will our great American poet ever continue to be a poet for all mankind. Thus will his name and memory be preserved against the casualties of time. With Horace he might have said: "Exegi monumentum aere perennius." OWAISA. THE LAMENT OF RIZPAH. (COMPETITIVE). Drear are the hours since my dearest went, To the barren tomb where they laid him low; When, ah when, will my soul have rest? Is stilled like the voice in my loved one's grave. DONATELLO. |