Our maidens pleased him well,
As little Rose from Yeovil
And dozens more can tell.’
Is there not all the honey and sweetness and summer of the West Country in the sound of her—‘little Rose from Yeovil.’ Could anything give the weariness of suburban pavements, yet make them sublime, better than this:
‘On through the dripping moonless night
Up West End Lane and Frognal Rise,
They trace their footsteps, by the light
Of love that fills their weary eyes.’
For he knows, as all true modern poets know, that the world has become a fairy world again, and that the name of Camden Town can haunt us as much as Xanadu, nay more. We cannot place him with Mr. Yeats, Mr. Housman or Mr. Masefield: but he should be loved by thousands, and the student of the future will treasure his work as a document of fine English sentiment and feeling long after our Francis Thompson, our Watson and our Trench are forgotten.”
Birmingham Daily Post: “If Mr. Douglas Goldring does not belie the promise of his first book, a good deal will be heard of him, and the attractively produced little volume before us will become precious to the collector. What matters above all else in a young poet is personality—individuality of feeling and outlook. Possessing this, his style may safely be left to develop itself; and this quality is unmistakably present on every page of ‘A Country Boy, and Other Poems.’ ... Already his individuality of vision is beginning to make its own music.”