Fallen in Erin are all those leafy forests; The oaks lie buried under bogland mould; Only in legends dim are they remembered, Only in ancient books their fame is told. But seers, who dream of times to come, have promised Forests shall rise again where perished these; And of this desolate land it shall be spoken, "In Tir-Conal of the territories there are trees." The prophetic figure there, of course, is symbolical; but thinking of the basis it has in fact--of the schemes which are afoot in the Isle for afforestation--one cannot help wondering whether it was consciously suggested by them. Not that there need be the slightest relation, of course. The poetical soul will often take a leap in the dark and reach a shining summit long before the careful people who travel by daylight along beaten tracks are half way up the hill. Still, there is proof that this group of writers is keenly interested in the question of the land and the organized effort to reclaim it. It is the more practical form of their patriotism, and the sign by which one knows it for something more than a sentiment. It is a deeply rooted and reasoned sense that the well-being of a nation, and therefore its strength and greatness, come ultimately from the soil and depend upon the close and faithful relation of the people to it. That surely is the conviction which underlies the work of a poet like Mr Padraic Colum, and particularly such a piece as his "Plougher": Sunset and silence! A man: around him earth savage, earth broken; Beside him two horses--a plough! Earth savage, earth broken, the brutes, the dawn-man there in the sunset, And the Plough that is twin to the Sword, that is founder of cities! ..... Slowly the darkness falls, the broken lands blend with the savage; The brute-tamer stands by the brutes, a head's breadth only above them. A head's breadth? Ay, but therein is hell's depth, and the height up to heaven, And the thrones of the gods and their halls, their chariots, purples and splendours.