“After the end of all things,
After the years are spent,
After the loom is broken,
Will there be hearts a-beating,
Will friend converse with friend,
Will men and women be lovers,
After the end?”
“In Romney Marsh” is a fascinating bit of landscape-painting; and “A Cinque Port” has a melancholy and suggestive beauty that makes me long for space to copy it. The “Songs” for “Spring,” “Summer,” “Autumn,” and “Winter” are charming, also.
There is thought enough and strength enough in the “Songs,” “To the New Women,” and “To the New Men;” but they are rhymed prose, rather than poetry—if, indeed, “what” and “hot” can be said to rhyme with “thought.”