E380623A. The Seraphim.
The Atlas, 23 June 1838, p. 395.
As reprinted in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 4, 372–373.
The subject of the poem called The Seraphim, was suggested to the author while she was engaged upon her translations of the Prometheus of Eschylus; and she observes in her preface that had Eschylus lived after the incarnation and crucifixion of the Saviour, he would have recognized in that sublime history a loftier and grander theme than the Prometheus. There cannot be fairly instituted a comparison between these subjects, although the extreme agony embraced in both, and the character of the noble poem of the Greek, would naturally lead the mind from the consideration of the Titanic conception to the awful mystery of the Christian atonement. Miss Barrett’s treatment of the theme is in keeping with the humility which she expresses in approaching it; she merely gives us a distant glimpse of the crucifixion, and throws a poetical obscurity over it which may probably impress her readers more solemnly than if she had ventured to delineate it with a bolder hand. In the poem of The Seraphim there are but two persons, and they are of the angelic nature. The time is that of the crucifixion, and the Creator has directed the angelic host towards the earth, but these two angels linger at the closed gates of Heaven in the First Part of the poem, and mid-way in the air over Judæa, in the Second Part, communing with each other on the events that are taking place on Earth, and the causes that produced them. The form of the dialogue is irregular, and it constitutes, as the author justly describes it, a dramatic lyric, rather than a lyrical drama. In this conception there is not much power, nor does it admit of that breadth and force in the treatment of which the subject is susceptible, and, indeed, which it demands. But we have hardly any right to expect a more elaborate structure, for the author deprecates such criticism by declaring that she has “not written a book but a suggestion.” The suggestion is sufficiently striking to excite the imagination, and, although in some parts the poem is feeble and obscure, there are occasional passages of great beauty, and full of deep poetical feeling. Take, for an example, the following description of the descent of the angelic host through the air—the speakers being still hesitating at the gate of Heaven.
Ador. Thus, now, beloved! unpausingly
Beneath us sinks the pomp angelical—
The roar of whose descent hath died
To a still sound, as thunder into rain!
Th’ immeasurable space seems magnified
With that thick life; whereof we nought retain
In vision, save the pale and eddying fall
Of wings innumerous, brightly crossed
By lines of hair that hath not lost
The glitter of the God-smile shed
Last, on bowed angel’s head!
And gleamed between by hands that fling
Homages like upward rays,
From constant habitude of praise
And high instinct of worshipping.
Zerah. Rapidly they drop below us.
Pointed palm and wing and hair,
Indistinguishable show us
Only pulses in the air
Throbbing with a fiery beat—
As if a new creation heard
(Late unhearing, still unseeing)
Some divine and plastic word;
And trembling at its proper being
Did waken at our feet.
We have put some of these lines in italics, to direct the attention of the reader more emphatically to the exquisite beauty of the picture they bring before us. The effect of these descriptions is rendered still more vivid and complete by the contrast between Ador, the elder angel, who is strong and somewhat saddened by his experiences, and Zerah, the younger, who is weak and full of love and natural fear. Thus Zerah appeals to his brother to impart his knowledge to him concerning the earth, and the changes that have been wrought in it by the sin of man.
Ador. Hast thou seen it since—the change?
Zerah. Askest thou? I fear—I fear—
To look upon it now!
I have beheld the ruined things
Only in the picturings
Of angels sent on earthward mission!
Strong one, e’en upon thy brow—
When with task completed, given
Back to us from earthly vision,
I have beheld thee silent stand,
Abstracted in the seraph band—
Without a smile in heaven!
In the second part, going down upon the earth they behold the cross—the figure at its foot is described with touching truth.
Ador. The cross—the cross!
Zerah. A woman doth
Kneel the mid cross under—
Meekly with her lips asunder,
And a motion upon each,
Too fast to show or suffer speech—
With folded lids as close as sleep—
Yet not as tranquil—for the eyes
That dream within, have room to weep
Drop after drop—
A variety of poems follow in the volume, in some of which—where the subject comes more easily within the scope of the author’s powers—she is more successful: but in none do we find such flashes of imagination as in the Seraphim. From a poem called the Romaunt of Margret, we will give one extract, as a specimen of the shorter pieces. The portrait of Margret, sitting by the river’s side, will recall some of the fanciful images of Tennyson.
The night is in her hair,
And giveth shade to shade;
And the pale moonlight, on her forehead white,
Like a spirit’s hand is laid:—
Her lips part with a smile,
Instead of speakings done—
I ween she thinketh of a voice,
Albeit uttering none!
Margaret, Margaret! [sic]
* * * * *
The ladye’s shadow lies
Upon the running river.
It lieth no less in its quietness,
For that which resteth never:
Most like a trusting heart
Upon a passing faith—
Or as upon the course of life,
The stedfast doom of death!
Margaret, Margaret.
The ladye doth not move—
The ladye doth not dream—
Yet she seeth her shade no longer laid
In rest upon the stream!
It shaketh without wind—
It parteth from the tide—
It standeth upright in the cleft moonlight—
It sitteth at her side.
Margaret, Margaret!
Miss Barrett is sometimes chargeable with affectation. She overworks the tints, and, if we may employ the figure, the tapestry has consequently a cumbrous appearance, here and there, from the excessive weight of the colouring. But she possesses a fine poetical temperament, and has given to the public, in this volume, a work of considerable merit.
Reviewed:
The Seraphim, and Other Poems (EBB), London: Saunders & Otley, 1838.
___________________
