Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect. By William
Barnes. First and third collections. (J. Russell Smith.)—Mr. Barnes's position as a public favourite is so firmly established that there is no necessity for us to do more than remark that the first of these volumes is a new edition, while the second is now published for the first time. The perusal of the latter has tended to confirm an opinion that we have always entertained, that Mr. Barnes's desire to perpetuate the dialect of his native county acts injuriously upon the general effect of his verses. Anything at all approaching to real poetry—and in this category Mr. Barnes's productions must undoubtedly be placed—always suffers by being clothed in a dialect which, whatever may be its intrinsic merits, has, when printed, a ridiculous appearance. Pure English is the only appropriate vehicle for English poetry. Surely the effect of the follow- ing stanza—the closing one of a very pretty little poem—is diminished rather than enhanced by the manner in which it is spelt :—
" Zome feair buds mid outlive blightens, Zome sweet hopes mid outlive sorrow, A'ter days of wrongs an' slightens There mid break a happy morrow. We mid have noo ea'thly love ; But God's love-tokens from above Here mid greet us, here mid greet us, In the yields by watervalls."
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