WEFOUNDIdlehurst: A Journal Kept in the Country (Classic Reprint)

The Song of the Golden Bough, and other Poems, by C. Battersby (Constable, 3/6). Those of our readers who recollect The Flute Player and The Lament of Niobe, and who took joy in The Ferry of Dreams, which appeared in our last number, will give Mr. Caryl Battersby's volume of verse the sincere welcome which we keep for the writer who satisfies us. Mr. Battersby always satisfies. He takes hold of his subject with the grace born of strength, sure of itself, and able to measure its task. Here is a line which satisfies from the perfect poise of sound and sense--

"Here, dimly brooding, find
The lark's thought, when the mother and the nest
Are all forgot, and he beyond the wind
Unlocks the silver fountain of his breast."

Mr. Battersby is never weak; every line expresses fitly that which he has to say. He gives us no rough diamonds, and yet he never finishes to the point of smoothness. We cannot discover that the author of these poems has much to unlearn; what he may have to learn of, more and more, is, the passion of humanity