Porray.—Hearts' Ease. By Theodore Tilton. (T. Fisher Unwin.)—This volume, with

a volume published in 1893, com- pletes the collection of Mr. Theodore Tilton's verse. All the pieces contained in it have, we understand, been published before. Mr. Tilton's place among minor poets is one sufficiently well marked. He is certainly not far from the front rank ; his verse has the qualities, so seldom found in poetry not of the first order, of vivacity and interest. It is unnecessary to criticise in detail, but we may mention "The True Church" and "The Strange Preacher of Padua" as good examples of Mr. Tilton's quality. Songs of the Soil. By Frank L. Stanton. (A. Constable and Co.)—We learn from the preface that "no American poet has achieved such wide popularity" as has Mr. Stanton, and that in England the " literary weeklies have seized upon the poems as something new and striking." Both these statements are a little surprising. We should have thought Longfellow beyond comparison the most popular of American poets, nor have we observed this grasping after Mr. Stanton's work in the "literary weeklies " of England. And yet we can see some reason why these poems should attract some notice. Another sentence in the preface gives it. "The note of hope that you are singing is one that has been unheard for years." There is a great deal of significance in that. We are sick to death of the doleful utterances which the average minor poet pours forth. Mr. Stanton is not one of these sad singers. He is indomitably cheerful. The gladness and beauty of Nature, the hopes of life, inspire him. He wants much before he can really be a poet of the people, but it may well be that he has the root of the matter in him. Here is a little piece which serves to show what we mean :—

"JUNE DREAM.

There's something in the hazy, lazy, daisy atmosphere That makes a fePow mellow all the Fool he hss to stare In the scented, sw..et, contented subtle season when the tunes Of a million birds make music for a million, trillion Janes I You are dreaming in the gleaming—you are blinded by the glow Of the wkite light and the bright light, where the splendid rivers flow; Or in dells where bells of twilight ring their reqoiem of rest. You are drifting with the rose leaves to the Nignes voluptuous breast I

Life is languor, with no anger of a storm to strike and slay The peace that makes the perfect and splendid-.ista'd day ; Life is glory, and the story, told in Love's melodaus tunes Makes the world move to the music of a mil. Lei, trillion Junes I " —Dramatic Pictures. By Alexander H. Japp, LL.D. (Chatto and Windus.)—There is some vigorous humour in Dr. Japp's " Dramatic Pictures." The British soldier and the American pioneer express themselves in a forcible way. We are told that the author is not responsible for these utterances,—still, there is a certain dramatic trick that is necessary, and the Bishop who gives occasion to the soliloquy of the hunting-parson by ordering him to be " clean-shaven " is an anachronism. Bishops and other persons in authority were silly in this matter a generation ago, but they have learnt wisdom. As a painter of Nature Dr. Japp has manifest power. Our readers may like to see how he treats the same subject that gave a theme to the extract quoted from Mr. Stanton :-

"JUNE.

Ob the balmy woodland Sweet surprises meet as

In the month of Jane Everywhere we turn ; Never did the birds' sing Blne-bells like bonnie eyes Bweetlierr in tune I Peeping thro' the fern. Rich the roving blossoms Half we grudge to gather Hang from branch and spray ; Beauties that we prize, Tis an ever.new delight But we seek for offerings The live-long day. To gladden weary eyes."

--The same loving appreciation of natural beauty is the most attractive characteristic of the next volume on our list, Diana's

Looking Glass, and other Poems, by Charles D. Bell, D.D. (Edward Arnold.)—Here is a specimen in which also the difficult sonnet rhythm is managed with some skill :— • No spot without its beauty, far or near;

Green glen and glide, huge aoaur, and wood-clothed bill, Fair field and fell, and silver mountain-rill, And lakes where lilies, flowering all the mere, Glass their white loveliness in widen clear That sleep beneath them, pure and cool and still, Here have I drunk of beauty to my fill. As friends who better known beoome more dear, So with thy charms. When life draws near the end, Ye shall be with me, hills and valleys green; And dying eyes from dying bed shall send A yearning look to each remembered scene, Fresh in my heart as though beheldyeetreen And thoughts of you with thoughts of leaven shall blend."

Dr. Bell does not give us anything striking or new ; but he sings to familiar tunes pleasantly enough.—Sonnets, and other Poems. By Frederick W. Ragg, M.A. (Rivington, Percival, and Co.)— We do not see an advance in this volume upon the last that we had from Mr. Ragg's pen. In fact, in point of interest it is dis- tinctly inferior. His rhetoric, too, which was forcible in many parts of " Quorsum," is obviously hampered by restraints of rhyme. Here is a sonnet, as good as anything that we can find, but certainly feeble in its expression :—

" Fauirtzss Gam.

Sleep on thy passionless and dreamless sleep With tearless eyes, with heart benumbed, I give The nnresponded kiss. Thou wilt not grieve, Nor thy cold breast, with one impulsive leap,

Give answer to the brow upon it laid ;

But, pnleelese, its unfeeling silenoe keep. And me the silence end the cold upbraid Who lived, when thou, to bitter death betray* Baceivedst that fell thrust: upbraid with stare, Which pierces more with its unmoving stone.

Than living lips or dying countenance— Why was absent when thou met'st alone The traitor and thy death with scornful glance; Nor, shielding thee, was nigh, thy death to share P " Cuckoo Songs. By Katharine Tynan Hinkson. (Mathews and Lane.)—There is much freshness about Mrs. Hinkson's verse,— tenderness and sentiment, with now and then a flash of quaint humour. "The Magpie," for instance, is a pleasing little piece ; so is " A Garden of Olives ; " so again, " A Plover on Guard." This last we may quote, for it shows some of the poet's

characteristic merits :— "A PLoven ON GUARD.

0 little plover still circling over

Your neat in clover, your house of love, Sure none dare harm it and none alarm it While you are keeping your watch above.

'Ti, she doth love you and well approveyou,

Your little love-bird so rrey and sweet; If hawk and falcon swept down above you,

'Tie she would trust you the twain to meet.

Now let me pass, air, a harmless lass, sir,

With no designs on your eggs of blue.

I wish your family both health and wealth, sir, And to be as faithful and kind as you.

But not a shadow steals o'er the meadow

That he will swoop not to drive away ; The bee in clover and Wind the rover

He fears mean ill to his love in grey.

The showers so sunny and sweet as honey Ileve power to trouble his anxious breast. Now might one purchase for love or money That watchful heart and that pleasant nest I"

—Poems. By Lewis Brockman. (Horace Cox.)—The beat things in Mr. Brockman's volume are his really vigorous ballads. But ballads must be quoted entire or not at all, and we have not space for the specimen we should like to give.—There is some grace of expression, and no little tenderness of sentiment, in Rosemary for Remembrance, by Mary Brotherton (John Lane), but certainly not the element of " hope," which we have found to be the secret of popularity in Mr. Stanton's verse. This is how Miss Brotherton sings :—

"Too Soon.

' Vacant chaff well meant for graln.'—Trnairsou.

' Weep not, have faith, and hope, and trust :- They are not enough, she said

We were never but two, and one is dart ; I am alive, he is dead.

' Death is the life we all inherit' :— Yes, I believe it, she said :

But I am human and he j4 a spirit; My fellow-creature is dead.

He is happy, you should be glad' :- Happy I without me I she said 3 He was always sorry when I was sad; So he who loved me is dead.

' Nay, his jay should be yours, by this ' :— I know not his Joy, she said :

How :ohmic' I have share in a spirit's bliss, Till I too am lying dead?

'Nolte will grant you what Death denies';—

Yes, to behold him she said But he was the light of my human eyes, And they cannot see the dead.

'Prayer from your heart will dry these tears';-- My heart has no prayer, she said,

But a crying out for the ',met lost years, And my darling, who is dead."

—Sagas and Songs of the Norsemen. By Albany F. Major. (David Nutt.)—Mr. Major gives with adequate force and mastery of language these characteristic songs and ballads. "The First Christmas in Norway" is a good specimen ; so is "The Burial of the Sea-King," a poem full of colour. A curious reader will be interested in tracing the resemblance between these Scandinavian echoes and Rhymes of Rajpufana, by Col. G. H. Trevor (Macmillan). These, too, are founded on the native poetry of the land. The Vikings and the Raj poot warriors were not wholly unlike.- Cyne- c a ne ,' a metrical translation from Znpitza's edition, by Jane Menzies (Blackwood and Sons), gives an interesting representation of old Teutonic literature.-Lyrics of a Long Life, by Newman Hall (Nisbet and Co.), contains some hymns which have obtained a certain amount of popular acceptance, and other poems which have the merit of religious feeling expressed in language of not inadequate force. The following represents Mr. Newman Hall fairly :- ' TILE Bowen.

He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.'

Weeping goes forth the sower on his way; Weeping-although he beareth pre ions seed; Weeping-because he knows la's utter need; Weeping through many a dark and stormy day. He weeps for goodly grain cast quite away ; For barren footpath and delusive soil Where rocks, scarce hidden, all his labour foil ; For early bloom of hopes that will not stay ; For thriving plants choked up by many a weed ; Yet ceases not to sow, and watch, and pray. The Saviour, as He sowed, did weep and bleed, But now rejoices with the fruit alway :

So, like the Master, he who sows and grieves Shall doubtless come again with joyful sheaves."

-Poems and Lyrics of Nature, edited, with introduction, by Edith Wingate Hinder (W. Scott), contains a good selection from singers of the day of pieces which represent one of the predomi- nant feelings of the times, the love of Nature.-Another volume of extracts which may be mentioned at the same time is The Lyrical Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley (J. M. Dent).-We have also received :- The Doom of Said, and other Poems, by Alfred H. Vine (Horace Marshall and Sons) ; Love's Lyrics, by Alan Stanley (Gay and Bird) ; The Triumph of Love, by William Tuberville (Kegan, Paul, Trench, and Co.) ; Five Books of Song, by Richard Watson Gilder (T. Fisher Unwin) ; Madrid : a Tragedy, by Henry Newbolt (T. Fisher Unwin) ; The White Book of the Muses, by George P. Johnston (Edinburgh) ; At the Cross Roads, by Arnold Wall (David Nutt).