of Verse I am numbered among those to whom the poetry of Mr. G. K. Chesterton is a blessing and a joy. And I love the poet best when he is cheerful, robustious, Bacchanalion. In his new book, ''The Ballad of St. Barbara'' (Palmer, 7s, 6d.), Mr. Chesterton is serious, sometimes fierce, and (one hesitates to say it) almost teetotal.- There are many fine things in the new volume, but, after reading it. I turned once more to "Wine, Water, and Song" (a priceless possession) and read once again with undiminished satisfaction of how The wicked Grocer graces In spirits and in wine, Not frankly and in fellowship As men in inns do dine, Mr. Chesterton is obsessed with the conviction that England is swiftly travelling to "the demnition bow-wows." The men that worked for England have their graves in England. The men that fought for England have their fraves afar, And they that rule in England, In stately conclave met; Alas, alas! for England, They have no graves as yet.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.