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〃sigh〃）； will probably be engaged a quarter of a century from now in making simi… lar declarations。 He is simply echoing some dysthymic poet of the pastreaching out with some other man's hat for the stray nickel of your sympathy。 This morbidness seldom accompanies gen… uine poetic gifts。 The case of David Gray； the young Scottish poet who died in 1861； is an in… stance to the contrary。 His lot was exceedingly sad； and the failure of health just as he was on the verge of achieving something like success justified his profound melancholy； but that he tuned this melancholy and played upon it； as if it were a musical instrument； is plainly seen in one of his sonnets。 In Monckton Milnes's （Lord Houghton's） 〃Life and Letters of John Keats〃 it is related that Keats； one day； on finding a stain of blood upon his lips after coughing； said to his friend Charles Brown： 〃I know the color of that blood； it is arterial blood； I cannot be deceived。 That drop is my death…warrant。 I must die。〃 Who that ever read the passage could forget it？ David Gray did not； for he versified the incident as happening to himself and appropriated； as his own； Keats's comment：
Last night； on coughing slightly with sharp pain； There came arterial blood； and with a sigh Of absolute grief I cried in bitter vein； That drop is my death…warrant； I must die。
The incident was likely enough a personal experience； but the comment should have been placed in quotation marks。 I know of few stranger things in literature than this poet's dramatization of another man's pathos。 Even Keats's epitaphHere lies one whose name was writ in waterfinds an echo in David Gray's Below lies one whose name was traced in sand。 Poor Gray was at least the better prophet。
WISHMAKERS' TOWN
A LIMITED edition of this little volume of verse； which seems to me in many re… spects unique； was issued in 1885； and has long been out of print。 The reissue of the book is in response to the desire off certain readers who have not forgotten the charm which William Young's poem exercised upon them years ago； and； finding the charm still potent； would have others share it。 The scheme of the poem； for it is a poem and not simply a series of unrelated lyrics； is in… genious and original； and unfolds itself in mea… sures at once strong and delicate。 The mood of the poet and the method of the playwright are obvious throughout。 Wishmakers' Towna little town situated in the no…man's…land of 〃The Tempest〃 and 〃A Midsummer Night's Dream〃 is shown to us as it awakens； touched by the dawn。 The clangor of bells far and near calls the townfolk to their various avocations； the toiler to his toil； the idler to his idleness； the miser to his gold。 In swift and picturesque se… quence the personages of the Masque pass be… fore us。 Merchants； hucksters； players； lovers； gossips； soldiers； vagabonds； and princes crowd the scene； and have in turn their word of poign… ant speech。 We mingle with the throng in the streets； we hear the whir of looms and the din of foundries； the blare of trumpets； the whisper of lovers； the scandals of the market…place； and； in brief； are let into all the secrets of the busy microcosm。 A contracted stage； indeed； yet large enough for the play of many passions； as the narrowest hearthstone may be。 With the sounding of the curfew； the town is hushed to sleep again； and the curtain falls on this mimic drama of life。 The charm of it all is not easily to be defined。 Perhaps if one could name it； the spell were broken。 Above the changing rhythms hangs an atmosphere too evasive for measurementan atmosphere that stipulates an imaginative mood on the part of the reader。 The quality which pleases in certain of the lyrical episodes is less intangible。 One readily explains one's liking for so gracious a lyric as The Flower…Seller； to select an example at random。 Next to the plea… sure that lies in the writing of such exquisite verse is the pleasure of quoting it。 I copy the stanzas partly for my own gratification； and partly to win the reader to 〃Wishmakers' Town；〃 not knowing better how to do it。
Myrtle； and eglantine； For the old love and the new！ And the columbine； With its cap and bells； for folly！ And the daffodil； for the hopes of youth！ and the rue； For melancholy！ But of all the blossoms that blow； Fair gallants all； I charge you to win； if ye may； This gentle guest； Who dreams apart； in her wimple of purple and gray； Like the blessed Virgin； with meek head bending low Upon her breast。 For the orange flower Ye may buy as ye will： but the violet of the wood Is the love of maidenhood； And he that hath worn it but once； though but for an hour； He shall never again； though he wander by many a stream； No； never again shall he meet with a dower that shall seem So sweet and pure； and forever； in after years； At the thought of its bloom； or the fragrance of its breath； The past shall arise； And his eyes shall be dim with tears； And his soul shall be far in the gardens of Paradise Though he stand in the Shambles of death。
In a different tone； but displaying the same sureness of execution； is the cry of the lowly folk； the wretched pawns in the great game of life：
Prince； and Bishop； and Knight； and Dame； Plot； and plunder； and disagree！ O but the game is a royal game！ O but your tourneys are fair to see！
None too hopeful we found our lives； Sore was labor from day to day； Still we strove for our babes and wives Now； to the trumpet； we march away！
〃Why？〃For some one hath will'd it so！ Nothing we know of the why or the where To swamp； or jungle； or wastes of snow Nothing we know； and little we care。
Give us to kill！since this is the end Of love and labor in Nature's plan； Give us to kill and ravish and rend； Yea； since this is the end of man。
States shall perish； and states be born： Leaders； out of the throng； shall press； Some to honor； and some to scorn： We； that are little； shall yet be less。
Over our lines shall the vultures soar； Hard on our flanks shall the jackals cry； And the dead shall be as the sands of the shore； And daily the living shall pray to die。
Nay； what matter！When all is said； Prince and Bishop will plunder still： Lord and Lady must dance and wed。 Pity us； pray for us； ye that will！
It is only the fear of impinging on Mr。 Young's copyright that prevents me reprinting the graphic ballad of The Wanderer and the prologue of The Strollers； which reads like a page from the prelude to some Old…World miracle play。 The setting of these things is frequently antique； but the thought is the thought of to… day。 I think there is a new generation of readers for such poetry as Mr。 Young's。 I ven… ture the prophecy that it will not lack for them later when the time comes for the inevitable rearrangement of present poetic values。 The author of 〃Wishmakers' Town〃 is the child of his period； and has not escaped the ma… ladie du siecle。 The doubt and pessimism that marked the end of the nineteenth century find a voice in the bell…like strophes with which the volume closes。 It is the dramatist rather than the poet who speaks here。 The real message of the poet to mankind is ever one of hope。 Amid the problems that perplex and discourage； it is for him to sing
Of what the world shall be When the years have died away。
HISTORICAL NOVELS
IN default of such an admirable piece of work as Dr。 Weir Mitchell's 〃Hugh Wynne；〃 I like best those fictions which deal with king… doms and principalities that exist only in the mind's eye。 One's knowledge of actual events and real personages runs no serious risk of re… ceiving shocks in this no…man's…land。 Everything that happens in an imaginary realmin the realm of Ruritania； for illustrationhas an air of possibility； at least a shadowy vraisemblance。 The atmosphere and local color； having an a