Review.

Yet , dearest , ere they 7 seek the light , — These few stray thoughts of mine , — Forgive me , if around me crowd Some other forms than thine ; Forgive me , if like one who treads In slumber ' s tranced way ,

I seek awhile the haunts of youth , The long forgotten clay . " And then follow poetic pictures of his quiet rural birthplace or early home , ' ' girt all round with strips of wood , and meads with spring ' s first blossoms strewed . "

" For there , ' mid orchis blooms , we chased AVitli gauzy net , the summer fly , Or sought the dove ' s nest , wondrously In the oak ' s ivied hollow placed . " Then we have

" A wider range —the school—world hath the place Of that home circle , with its crowded gates AYhen the bell sends us forth , or bids retrace Each step , or graveor full of speed and

, grace , AVhere carven desk and class-room ' s awe awaits : The hour glides by , while student forms rehearse The legend ' s ancient lore , or shape the verse . "

A youthful training which has not been lost upon our author , as the present volume shows . But the scene changes : — " I mark no more where yon dark shade Shuts out the eve ' s slant rays ; I turn to where the white hih brow

g May meet my lon « in < r araze : T turn where eyes may answer mine , The trusting voice may sound;—One thought , one prayer , one heart alone To two whom love hath bound !

For thee my toil—nor thee alone ; Thy mother arms enfold That which a mother holds more dear Than all a kingdom ' s gold : The gem that fills the lost one ' s place , The two days' treasure riven , AVhose tiny limbs the green turf wraps

, Whose spirit smiles in heaven . AVhate ' er the toil , ' tis light and free , For thou wilt share the wei ght ; AA hate ' er the joy 7 , ' tis all for thee , AVho dost such joy create ;

Should grief arise , its spell is short , When those fond eyes are near ; Should darkness cloud , that presence makes The gloomiest nightfall clear . " There is true feeling in this , and one cannot help wishing as one reads itthat

, Mr . Emra may long be spared to his family and his parish , with leisure between his pastoral duties to send forth many more as pure poems as those now under review . The story of the Athenian king / Egeits , the son of Pandion . the faithless husband

of Jtithra , and the father of Theseus , has been , as Mr . Emra expresses it , " a theme which poets , painters , and sculptors , have already handled in no scanty measure . " But he has this to say in his defence , " that most of those who have employed pen , brushor chisel on this subject , have chosen

, a different phase of the story . Their scene has been the tangled labyrinth of Crete , or the lonely strand of Naxos . The central figure in their picture has been the hero , with the shaggy trophy in his blood-stained handsorstill more oftenthe maiden

; , , whom he has deserted , staring in stony horror over the surging sea , and imploring the deaf rocks to restore to her her Theseus . In the present case , " says he , " I have as it were filled in the shading of another scene in the fantastic

dramaa scene of which Catullus only gives the outline , even after his vivid and statuesque description of Ariadne . In my tableau , the interest centres round the aged king , looking out from his high watch-tower for the white sail that tells of safety and glory , with as anxious a gaze as that of the watchman who waited upon Agamemnon ' s palace-wall for the beacon-flame which should

announce the fall of Iroy . It is the doom of the father , and the coming of the son , who has unwittingly wrought that doom , which I have taken upon myself to describe ; nor it is not without much diffidence that I thus add a sequel to the Theseus-myths of Catullus and Ovid

among Latin authors , and Canon Kingsley among those of our own time . "' How he has acquitted himself in this task , we hope to show in the next number of the " Masonic Magazine . " GEORGE MARKHAM TWEDDELL .