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These poems are always poetical; they are carefully finished; they are not vers de société; they do not affect American humor, and they are utterly unpretentious. Mr. T. B. Aldrich might own a good many of them. They reveal Mr. Bates’ mind and temper at their very best, and will be enjoyed by those who have an ear for fine, light impressions finely and delicately expressed.—The Beacon.
The poems, all very short, except the “Ballad of the Spinner,” are almost all flavorous with love’s delicious essence. The perennial passion receives fresh illumination in a hundred ways. Warmth, richness, suggestiveness, smooth-flowing melody,—these are some of the traits of Mr. Bates’ verses, which are well worthy the tasteful setting here given them.
They are almost invariably the setting of some pretty and thoroughly poetic thought; and the writer’s expression is clear and precise, and studded with bits of exquisite imagery.—Argonaut.
There are many who will welcome another volume from the pen of Arlo Bates, although it be a sad one. The twenty-nine sonnets which make up this little collection are but variations of one melody, and that played in the minor key. They will sink deep into many hearts, for they are the expressions of various moods which all who have known grief and loss will have felt and be able to comprehend. The men and women who have no artistic gifts, and who sit and shed salt tears in stony silence, unable to give their woe adequate words, will feel that a human heart has here been revealed to them able to sympathize with every throb and pulsation of their own. There is not a cry of a bruised soul but will find its echo in some one of these sonnets, and the knowledge that they are the expression of a real and personal sorrow gives them a power and interest that no ideal or imaginary work could possess.—Transcript.
ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston.