perhaps hear nothing very surprising if you were to enquire about them in the neighborhoods where they dwelt." The London press said of Miss Ingelow's book: "The new volume exhibits abundant evidence that time, study, and devotion to her vocation have both elevated and welcomed the powers of the most gifted poetess we possess, now that Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Adelaide Proctor sing no more on earth. Lincolnshire has claims to be considered the Arcadia of England at present, having given birth to Mr. Tennyson and our present Lady Laureate." Our most eminent American critic said: "The songs of Miss Ingelow sprang up suddenly and tunefully as skylarks from the daisy-spangled, hawthorn-bordered meadows of old England, with a blitheness long unknown, and in their idyllic underflights moved with the tenderest currents of human life. She may be termed an idyllic lyrist, her lyrical pieces having always much idyllic beauty. "High Tide,' Winstanley," "Songs of Seven," and the "Long White Seam" are lyrical treasures, and the author especially may be said to evince that sincerity which is poetry's most enduring warrant." The "Songs of Seven" though not an especial favorite with Jean Ingelow herself, will always be a favorite with the world, as long as love exists. "Divided" is a poem of great beauty and strength, - a poem which sings itself - imaginative, delicate, yet rich in feeling. "Sailing beyond Seas," which has been set to music, is a piece of music in study. "Winstanley" is full of pathos and action. In 1864, a year after the "Poems" were published, "Studies for Stories" appeared,-five stories told in simple and clear language. "Stories told to a Child" was published in 1865; "A Story of Doom, and other Poems" in 1868; "Mopsa the Fairy," an exquisite story, in 1869, and since that time "A Sister's Byehours," "Off the Skelligs" in 1872, "Fated to be Free" in 1875, Sarah de Berenger" in 1879, "Don John" in 1881, and "Poems of the Old Days and the New." Her books have had a large sale both here and in Europe. It is stated that one hundred thousand of her poems have been sold in this country, and half that number of her prose works. S. K. B. 44 THE HIGH TIDE ON THE COAST OF LINCOLNSHIRE. THE old mayor climbed the belfry tower, The ringers ran by two, by three; .. Pull, if ye never pulled before; Good ringers, pull your best," quoth he. .. Play uppe, play uppe, O Boston bells! Ply all your changes, all your swells, Play uppe The Brides of Enderby."" And made his married love a sacred thing: For yet his nobler sons, if aught be true, Find the lost Eden in their love to you. REGRET. O THAT Word REGRET! There have been nights and morns when we have sighed, "Let us alone, Regret! We are content To throw thee all our past, so thou wilt sleep They are poor I. When I remember something which I had, Even in cowslip time when hedges sprout; II. When I remember something promised me, In countries that accord with mortal vow; FANCY. O FANCY, if thou flyest, come back anon, WHEN I reflect how little I have done, Of joy, or good, how little known, or been: No, not to do, as Eustace on the day He left fair Calais to her weeping fitNo, not to be,- Columbus, waked from sleep When his new world rose from the charmèd deep. |