FOUR BOOKS OF VERSE. 
195 
Those who look at the bookplate which, somewhat oddly, appears in this 
volume, may not understand the conspicuous presence of a bramble and a dock, 
but these were the two groups of plants to which Mr. Warren paid particular 
attention. Here is a specimen of the author’s verse : — 
“ The Oce.\n Wood. 
“ Gray woods within whose silent shade. 
The ocean voice is dimly knowm, 
Where undisturbed the violets fade. 
And roses perish overblown. 
“ Calm rests the wave against the beach. 
Calm rocks the wave-bird on its tide. 
And calmer in their heaven than each. 
The gleaming bands of sunset ride. 
Soon will the ripple move again : 
Soon will the shorelark flute its song : 
And in sweet emphasis of pain 
The rock-dove mourn the cliffs along. 
“ Sweet shall resound the curlew's wail. 
New sails come sweeping up the sea. 
But all the ships that ever sail. 
Will bring no comfort home to me.” ■ 
Mr. Ricketts’s illustrations, with beautiful printing and a dainty cover, add to 
the attractions of this attractive book. 
In Foems Old ami Ne-iv (Edward Arnold, 6s.) Canon Bell, as his title 
implies, has gathered favourite flowers from his old gardens, and, having added 
some new ones, presents us with the bouquet. For the most part they are quiet, 
thoughtful, meditative verses, Wordsworthian in feeling and expression, many of 
them inspired by lakeland scenery. From this it will be gathered that many are 
infused with a religious spirit, and this, indeed, breathes throughout the volume. 
Canon Bell is, like his great master, an accurate interpreter of Nature in her 
relation to human feeling — witness the following poem on “ Spring,” which some- 
what lengthy abstract must stand in place of a further notice of the book : — 
“ The cuckoo calls across the woods. 
In pauses of the shower. 
The dafl’odils and mary-buds 
Are breaking into flower. 
The lark soars o’er the growing wheat. 
Close to the gates of day ; 
The blackbird whistles clear and sweet 
In yonder hawthorn spray. 
“ Sweet airs adown the purple hills 
Play through the fragrant grass. 
And whisper to the little rills 
That warble as they pass. 
“ Anemones all wet with dew 
Are trembling in the breeze. 
And from sweet bells and buds of blue 
Come murmurous songs of bees. 
“ The hyacinth now scents the lanes, 
The primrose stars the grove. 
And nesting birds in sweetest strains 
I’our out their hearts in love. 
