In the spirited poem, "Leave their Fair Fatherland," in which the cruel process of emigration as a panacea for the sufferings of Ireland is described by the author, the opening stanza gives the tone of the whole poem:—
"Leave the fair land of their fathers,
The graves of their grandsires—for what?
Have ye not hearts in your bosoms,
Or think ye the Irish have not?
When sounded our trumpet of battle,
Were they cravens? Nay, bravest of men!
And they fought till the 'stars' rose in triumph
Never to vanish again!"
Our poet is not above giving "A Bit of Advice," and the way she gives it is this:—
"Whene'er you find a chance to wed
A noble girl, don't slight it;
And if you cannot speak your mind,
Why, just sit down and write it."
But the fellow who couldn't "pop the question" to "a noble girl," would not deserve to get her, and we think the noble girl would say the same.
The above selections are by no means the best we could have given. They are selected at random, and chiefly because they admit of selection without injuring the sense of their meaning. In other instances it would have been necessary to quote the poems entire, and this, of course, was neither desirable nor practicable in the small space at command.
The author of these poems is not unknown in Boston and throughout the New England States. It would be an encouragement to her to find that her efforts were not without promise of reward, and confident we are that those who spend a dollar in purchasing this handsome volume will not regret it. We have all a duty to discharge in the encouragement of Catholic writers and here is an excellent chance.
The work is beautifully brought out by the spirited publishers, McGowan & Young, of Portland, Me. It is printed on the finest paper, well and handsomely bound, gold lettered and red edges. It has a dedication so brief and beautiful that we give it entire. It is a little poem in itself. Here it is:—
"To My Beloved Father and Mother."
Were it possible to reveal even a little of what this abdication means, and what it conceals, the effort of Margaret E. Jordan would reap a rich return for literary labors performed under trying circumstances. Our beautiful singer could not well refrain from writing about "Gethsemane." Her devotion and her love to our Suffering Lord must needs find its vent among the trees of Mount Olivet!