... Dear! What would I give to climb our down, Where the wind hisses in each stalk And, from the high brown crest to see, Beyond the ancient, sea-grey town, The sky-line of our foam-flecked sea; And, looking out to sea, to hear, Ah! Dear, once more your pleasant talk; And to go home as twilight falls Along the old sea-walls! The best to come! The best! The best! One says the wildest things at times, Merely for comfort. But--_The best!_ Again, in "Grey Matter" and "Thanks Whilst Unharnessing," the colloquial touch is right and sure. In the latter poem, the almost halting time of the opening lines clearly suggests the tired horse as he draws to a standstill in the early darkness of a winter evening: there is a quicker movement as the robin's note rings out; the farmer's song is broken at intervals as he moves about the business of unharnessing, and when he stands at the open stable door, peering through the darkness at the robin on the thorn, the impression of relief from toil, of gratitude for home and rest, of simple kindliness and humanity, is complete-- Small brother, flit in here, since all around The frost hath gripped the ground; And oh! I would not like to have you die. We's help each other, Little Brother Beady-eye. One might continue to cite examples: the rapid unrhymed dialogue of "Grey Matter," which continues so long as there is a touch of controversy in the talk of husband and wife, and changes to a lyric measure as emotion rises; the real childlikeness of the "Children's Song"; or the mingled pain and sweetness of "To Christina at Nightfall," epitomising life in its philosophy and reflecting it in its art. But it is unnecessary to go further; and this last little poem (I will not do it violence by extracting any part of it) is perhaps the most complete vindication of our poet's theories. Never surely were impressions so vivid conveyed with a touch at once so firm and tender; never were thought and feeling so intense rendered with such gracious homeliness. _An Irish Group_