TO 



MR. P. ANDERSON GRAHAM 



DEAR MR. GRAHAM To whom so fittingly as to you could I 

 inscribe this book? It was you who suggested it; you who in 

 Country Life published at intervals, longer or shorter as the errant 

 spirit of composition moved me, the several papers which make it 

 one book ; you without whose encouragement and good counsel 

 this volume would probably not have been written. Then, per- 

 chance, it might have gone to that Y-Brasil Press in the Country 

 of the Young wherefrom are issued all the delightful books which, 

 though possible and welcome in Tir-na-n' Og, are unachieved in this 

 more difficult world, except in dreams and hopes. It would be good 

 to have readers among the kindly Shee ... do not the poets there 

 know an easy time, having only to breathe their thought on to a 

 leaf and to whisper their music to a reed, and lo the poem is public 

 from the caverns of Tir-fo-tuinn to the hills of Flatheanas ! . . . 

 but, till one gets behind the foam yonder, the desire of the heart is 

 for comrades here. These hours of beauty have meant so much to 

 me, somewhat in the writing, but much more in the long, incalcul- 

 able hours and days out of which the writing has risen like the blue 

 smoke out of woods, that I want to share them with others, who 

 may care for the things written of as you and I care for them, and 

 among whom may be a few who, likewise, will be moved to garner 

 from each day of the eternal pageant one hour of unforgettable 

 beauty. 



FIONA MACLEOD. 



