Anna Branch was born at Hempstead House, New London, Connecticut, and was graduated from Smith College in 1897. In 1898 she won a first prize for the best poem awarded by the _Century Magazine_ in a competition open to college graduates. Since then she has published three volumes of verse, _The Heart of the Road,_ 1901, _The Shoes That Danced,_ 1905, _Rose of the Wind,_ 1910. I fear that her ambition to be a dramatist may have prevented her from writing lyrical poetry (her real gift) during these last eight years. If it is true, 'tis pity; for a good poem is a better thing than a successful play and will live longer. Like many poets who cannot write plays, she is surcharged with dramatic energy. But, to use a familiar phrase, it is action in character rather than character in action which marks her work most impressively, and the latter is the essential element for the footlights. Shakespeare, Rostand, and Barrie have both, and are naturally therefore great dramatists. Two of the most of Miss Branch's poems are _Lazarus_ _Ora Pro Nobis._ These are fruitful subjects for poetry, the man who came back from the grave and the passionate woman buried alive. In the short piece _Lazarus,_ cast into the form of dialogue Lazarus answers the question put to him by Tennyson in _In Memoriam._ Where wert thou, brother, those four days? Various members of the group, astounded at his resurrection, try in vain to have their curiosity satisfied. What do the dead do? Are they happy? _Has my baby grown?_ What overpowering motive brought you back from peace to live once more in sorrow? This last question Lazarus answers in a positive but unexpected way. A great desire led me out alone From those assured abodes of perfect bliss.... And by the way I went came seeking earth, Seeing before my eyes one only thing-- _The Crowd_ What was it, Lazarus? Let us share that thing! What was it, brother, thou didst see? _Lazarus_ A cross. Another dynamic poem, glowing with passion, is _Ora Pro Nobis._ It is difficult to select passages from it, for it is sustained in power and beauty from the first line to the last; yet some idea of it: form and colour may be obtained by citation. A little girl was put into a convent with only two ways of passing the time; stitching and praying. She has never seen her face--she never will see for no mirror is permitted; but she sees one day the reflection of its beauty in the hungry eyes of a priest.