POETIC JUMBLE.

Southland Times, Volume III, Issue 206, 22 January 1866, Page 3

POETIC JUMBLE.

Poetry, has the crest fallen from thy lofty brow, Have the times that were gone by ; And dost thou cease to wield thy sceptre now ! Disconsolate in the dust grovelling lie. When once upon thy throne arrayed, Deaf to all the lower shades of life," Where love shone forth and banished strife, Homage at thy throne was freely paid. Then thy voice like sweet music flew, When strung by Nature's unerring laws ; Thy soul its higher sources knew, Their genial rays the icy feelings thaws. As by the mountain and the lake, To recline by the steady flowing brook ; When Nature ruled for the heart's sake, Unfolding her many -leafed instructive book. Then was the time that the hero sighed to see his fame embalmed in strains sublime ; And Heavenward guided was the hand When goodness marked the hero's line. For heroes by thy soul's expansive throes, From oblivion's shrouds have been disentombed By thee, to their proper sphere rose, And dispelled the mist their lonely home had doomed. Hope and joy then, in skipping forms did glide, And nobler thoughts the saving soul engaged; Meteralistic objects did not them solely guide, And refused in mathmatic thrall to be encaged. But then firmly grasped thy station, And all that did pertain to thy name, And filled the blank that now is in thy nation, As pleasantly spread thy rightful fame. As Nature shot the arrow from thy bow, And wafted thy strains into future time - } Nor slow to strike, for all its impulses know, And engrafts in the soul her treasured line. Nature is the same as first she did indite, Different hues on herself she does bestow; And the pen that would of thy beauties write, Must be tinged by thy spirits' glow. But slayers of *he land thou hast exalted, When thy soul blood hue beauties choose ; While others thou hast knowingly defended, Oblivion's strings have not striven to lose. Then the seeds from the fury of thy hand Are placed deep in the inexhausted soil ; Better have left them parch in the arid sand, Than waste good water on her plains sterile. The lofty eminence of the butcher band Is grand for the morbid pen to tell, But for a hero, let him be the man That loves his country and feiiownien as well. 'Tis true, he may not the vultures feed, Nor clothe his fame with carnage flowers ; • He m ly save pence, a more fruitful seed That shall be watered by. Nature's genial showers. On his breast will glare no artificial star 3, As mackluminaries are not wanted there ; The bearer of the olive branch is greater by far, '.Ihan him who bathed his fame in human gore. Placed on pedestal, where life is a moving mass To show them how many of their kind he has laid low, Painting out their insignificance as they pass, The legions his brealh into eternity did blow. For many a pure, deserving, unobtrusive heart, Space couli not for him find, As blood-dye too ofD marked out thy chart, And nobler spirits thy craft rescind. Once flowed thy song in lucid numbers As sparkling gems from the glowworm gleamed ; Yet rousing the impulse as when earth is rent asunder, It stirred the heart and the eye with raptura beamed. Of what beauties in thy volume, are we told, What sylphlike creatures did thy fancies form ; And great were they who trod the paths of old, And terribly fond of earth who dwelt above the storm. Then much more pleasant the earth must have been For them to leap down from their vapory floor To come and take a nap in our shady evergreens, And then right b<*ck again with a guest to soar. Such stuff is very poetic in the eastern eye, True poetry from a purer fountain springs ; It need not seek heroes midway in the sky, But to her real residence she nights her wings. Yet, justice, it must be confessed, Thou hast in thy purest style drest, By its sublimity our senses may be impressed, And again Hit up thy fallen crest. Thus to elevate the standard of the mind, All the soul's latent powers should combine To divest it of a morbid and stagnant kind, Thus restored, in pristine grandeur let it shine. MUFF. [As an unique specimen of conglomerated ideas of a verdant mind, we insert the above. W would recommend the writer to send all future poeti effusions to Punch, who, perhaps will be better able to appreciate their merit than we are. — Ed. S. Z 7 .]