Poems. By Ernest Myers. (Macmillan.)—The grace and finish of Mr.
Myers's poems are remarkable. If the form rather than the thought strike the reader as admirable, it is rather because the poet has not found a subject calling forth the higher inspiration,than because ono would judge him incapable of it. If we are to assign the younger aspirants to poetical fame to the schools over which masters of the art may be sup- posed to preside, we should place Mr. Myers among the disciples of Mr. Matthew Arnold. His verse breathes the spirit of classical culture. Classical subjects find an especially powerful expression. "Philhellene" is, perhaps, the finest thing in the volume. Take the following stanzas, not easily to be surpassed for dignity and harmony
"Grant me all the store of knowledge, grant me all the wealth that is, Swiftly, surely, I would answer, Give me rather, give me this :- Bear me back across the ages to the years that are no more, Give me one sweet month of spring-time on the old Saronlu shore ; Not as one who marvele mournful, seeing with a sad desire Shattered temples, crumbling columns, ashes of a holy Are ; But a man with men Hellenic doing that which there was done, There among the sons of Athena, not a stranger but it eon.
There the blue sea gave them greeting when their triremes' conquering files Swam superb with rhythmic oarage through the multitude of isles.
There they met the Made and brake him beat him to hie slavish East ; Who was he, a guest unwished-for bursting on their freeman's feast ?
There the ancient celebration to the maiden queen of fight Led the long august procession upward to the pillared height.
There the hearte of men beat faster while the glad Hellenic boy Ban and wrestled with his fellows, knew the struggle and the joy.
From the deep eyes in his forehead shone a radiance brave and fair, Melting down his shapely shoulders ran the splendour of hie hair.
Man with man they met together in a kindly life and free, And their gods were near about them in the sunlight or the sea,"
The versification here is, indeed, rather after than Mr. Tennyson (re- minding us, indeed, strongly of " Looksloy Hall"), than after Mr. M. Arnold. Our original comparison is rather justified by the following:— a Amens.—AN ANCIENT SCULPTURED Toon.
"He goeth forth unto the unknown land, Where wife nor child may follow ; thus far tell The lingering clasp of hand in faithful hand,
And that brief carvon legend, reiendj'areweR, 0 pregnant sign, profound simplicity /
All passionate pain and fierce remonstrating Being wholly purged, leave this mere memory, Deep but not harsh, a sad and sacred thing. Not otherwise to the ball of Hades dim
He fares, than if some summer eventide A message, not unlooked for, carne to him
Bidding him rise up presently and ride Some few hours' journey to a friendly house, Through fading light, to where within the West, Behind the shadow of Cithaeron's brows, The calm eyed Sun sank to his rosy rest."
If a "minor poet" is one who writes the best poetry on minor subjects, Mr. Myers has a right to a high place in this olase. And it seems to us that it rests very much with himself, or that power which fuck otia nobis, whether ho may make his way into a higher rank.
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