Logan’s other poems, though he has nothing equal to the cuckoo song in spontaneity and exquisite simplicity, are yet of real value. His “Braes of Yarrow” is an effective presentation of the ancient, sorrow-laden Yarrow _motif_. As is fitting in a ballad, the touches of description are of the briefest sort, but the forest, the bonny braes, and the sounding stream are felt through all the plaintive story. “Ossian’s Hymn to the Sun” is a poetical paraphrase of the famous apostrophe in “Balclutha.” It has some fine lines, but is inferior in strength to the original. The “Ode Written in Spring” is a laudation of a certain fair Maria in the true classical fashion, but the new note is struck in the first five stanzas descriptive of spring. The loosen’d streamlet loves to stray And echo down the dale, The hills uplift their summits green, The cuckoo in the wood unseen, At eve the primrose path along, The milkmaid shortens with a song, Her solitary way, The sudden fields put on the flowers, are lines showing fresh observation and easy, natural expression. Another passage characterizes autumn as “the Sabbath of the year.” Limited in compass as is Logan’s good work it is of value because marked by exceptional purity and sweetness. Most of James Graeme’s poems were written before he was twenty. His tastes are thus referred to by his friend, Dr. Robert Anderson: A passion for romantic fiction and fabulous history, appeared in him very early in life.... Of the Gothic, Celtic and Oriental mythology he was a warm admirer; and frequently attempted imitations of the wild and flowery fictions of the northern and eastern nations.... Like other votaries of the Muses, he was passionately fond of rural scenery, and delighted in walking alone in the fields. His chief poems of Nature are some descriptive elegies. Occasionally there is a fairly good line, as The torrents, whiten’d with descending rain, or The blue-gray mist that hovers o’er the hill, showing at least a hint of first-hand observation. But on the whole the poems are a composite of phrases belonging to the typical poetry of sentimental melancholy. His characteristic attitude toward Nature is shown by his constant preference for chilly midnight when howlets scream and ravens croak, and when he, with pensive care, tunes the voice of woe and sheds “teary torrents” over grass-green graves. One poem, on “Curling,” is, however, quite different in tone, for it is a crudely realistic and technical description of the game and the peasants who engage in it. The tastes of Graeme and his attempts are of more significance than his actual work, which is of little value.