Some of the ethereal lyrics of " A. E." have
recently been finely printed by Crosby Gaige in New York, under the title of Midsummer Eve. The poem which gives the little volume its name murmurs ingenuous yet subtle things concerning that solstice when all faery powers are strong. Even the delicate grass is vulnerable, and dryads move in the oaken shaw with the " high innocent air " of a lost Paradise. You may hear the sirens, but they are the " noble sirens," whose song is heavenly even if it draw you through green waves of death to ecstasy. With light felicity of phrase you are bidden be wary on Midsummer Eve, when even a wickedness may put on a dark fire of beauty, yet not cowardly like those who " shun the infinite Desire." " Platonies " has a haunting refrain ; " Vale " is a lovely dirge for the " wreathed ivory and fire " of the body ; and " The Gay " unfolds a mysterious philosophy of sorrow. The sweet harp-music still treads the edges of rare spiritual experience ; but these songs have a pensive evening quality compared with the poet's rapture in the diamond air of old.
* * * *
Previous page
