the young eternal self, that, having fulfilled the conditions of Karma in its present embodiment of destiny, is obeying the resistless law that calls it to new modes of being. It is unnecessary to be of the Buddhistic faith to feel the spell and the beauty of its philosophy.
Mrs. Fenollosa’s gift is chiefly lyrical, although her sonnets and descriptive poems have many passages of beauty; the picturesque in fancy and phrasing is ever at her command, and there are few poems in which one is not
arrested by some unique expression, or bit of imagery, as this from “An Eastern Cry”:
Beneath the maples crickets wake,
And chip the silence, flake on flake.
Or that in which the rain
Brimmed great magnolias up with scented wine.
Or the fir-tree stood,
With clotted plumage sagging to the land.
Or when Fujiyama seen at dawn is pictured as