Home Lyrics: A Book of Poems Part 20

"O vast, mysterious, solemn sea, Great reflex of the Deity; Safe in the hollow of His hand Doth all thy waste of waters stand."

Indian Indra and Teutonic Thurmor alike bow in acknowledgment of the truth of this conception.

Extract from the _Tunbridge Wells Gazette_, 7th July, 1876.

Under this t.i.tle has been published a volume of original poems. We can testify to the depth of feeling and mature thought, together with the telling language brought to bear in working out many of those homely scenes upon which the heart delights to dwell, as well as others of a miscellaneous character.

Extract from _Pioneer_, Allahabad, 9th June, 1877.

HOME LYRICS.--_London: Ward, Lock, and Tyler, Warwick House, Paternoster Row_.--

It is not surprising that this handsomely got-up book of poetry, gilt edged, and printed on toned paper, should have pa.s.sed into a second edition. It would be difficult to find a work more adapted for a "present" than Mrs. Battersby's HOME LYRICS; for, while far removed from those hateful goody-goody collections of "poetry," which perplex and distress the unfortunate reader, her verses are tinged with a deep, religious earnestness which may find an echo in any well balanced mind.

This very earnestness, in fact, is the most noticeable point in the whole of the detached pieces which go to make up the volume. Apart from the mechanism of the verses, which might readily be made to work more smoothly, there is found a rare amount of originality in the pieces and an enthusiastic admiration for Nature and Nature's wonders which finds expression in various outbursts, more or less poetical. Whether singing of the "proud hills of Malvern" or inditing blank verse in face of the Horse Shoe Falls at Niagara, the author is equally at home, inasmuch as she is always under the influence of a keen appreciation of the sublimity and beauty of natural objects. The following "Hymn to Nature"

will give an exact idea of the merits and defects of her style:--

"Dear Nature, how I love thee, In all thy varied forms, Through which the G.o.d of beauty Thy loveliness adorns.

Pure fount of gus.h.i.+ng gladness, From spring of heavenly birth, Whose living Waters flow for The children of the earth.

"Crowned by soft, beauteous moonbeams Of holy, silver light, Types of that ancient pillar That led the hosts by night-- Kissed by fond golden sunbeams Of love-streams from on high, Well may thy glad song ever Fill the wide earth and sky."

To those who can enjoy the quiet and peaceful side of life with only an occasional glimpse of its stern realities, these LYRICS will be very acceptable.