I HENLEY, William Ernest ; editor of| The New Review, etc. ; b. Gloucester, 23 Aug. 1849 ; m. Anna, d. of Edward Boyle, Edinburgh, 1878. Educ. : the Crypt Grammar School, Gloucester ; LL.D. St. Andrews. Editor ol I London, 1877-78 ; the Magazine of Art, 1882-86 ; [ the Scots— afterwards the National — Observer, I 1888-93 ; The Tudor Translations (North, Florio, | Shelton and others), etc. Publications : Book of Verses, 1888, 4th ed. 1S93 ; Memorial | Catalogue of the French and Dutch Loan Col- lection, 1S88 ; Views and Reviews, 1890 ; I Song of the Sword, 1S92 ; 2nd ed. 1S93 ; The| Centenary Burns (with T. P. Henderson : Terminal Essay by W. E. H,, published separ- ately, 1898), i.-iv. 185HS-H7; the Works of Lord I Byron, vol. i. 1897, etc. ; English Lyrics, 1897 ; Poems, 1897. Address : Stanley Lodge, Muswell I Hill, N. ■-■•; For England's Sake The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013482033 FOR ENGLAND'S SAKE Verses and Songs in Time of War by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, Dear for her refutation through the world. SHAKESPEARE. LONDON Published by DJIVID NUTT AT THE SIGN OF THE PHCENIX LONG ACRE Edinburgh : T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Maje9ty % m> FREDERICK HUGH SHERSTON ROBERTS, V.C. LIEUTENANT, KING's ROYAL RIFLE CORPS (Simla %th January 1872 : Chieveley Camp i6t& December 1899) AND THE MANY VALIANT SOULS WHOSE PASSING FOR ENGLAND'S SAKE HAS THRILLED THE ENDS OF THE WORLD WITH PAIN AND PRIDE June 1900 W. E. Henley. NOTE In this sheaflet of numbers the Prologue, "with II. III. and V., dates from ' The National Observer ' (1891-92) ,• IV. VI. and X. are reprinted from 'The Sphere,' VII. from 'The Daily Mail,' and IX. from ' The Morning Post ',■ the Epilogue, with I. and VIII., is new. It remains to add that III. has been set to music by Miss Frances Allitsen (Boosey), and — chorally — by Mr. Ernest Dicks (Curiuen) ; that VII. appeared with a new set of the old melody by Mr. Charles Willeby ; and that X. has been set, for chorus and orchestra (Boosey), by Dr. C. Villiers Stanford. W. E. H. Worthing, June 1900. CONTENTS FAGE PROLOGUE : i When the wind storms by with a shout, and the stern sea-caves I. REMONSTRANCE 2 Hitch, blunder, check II. THE MAN IN THE STREET . . .4 Death in the right cause, death in the wrong cause III. PRO REGE NOSTRO 6 What have I done for you ? IV. THE LEVY OF SHIELDS 9 Edward the Prince, here in Canterbury Minster V. THE CHOICE OF THE WILL . . .11 We are the choice of the Will : God, when He gave the word viii CONTENTS PAGE VI. MUSIC HALL 13 Storm along, John ! Though you faltered at first VII. A NEW SONG TO AN OLD TUNE . . .15 Sons of Shannon, Tamar, Trent VIII. 'OUR CHIEF OF MEN' 17 Did he say to himself, did he say at the start : — * I '11 take this thing in hand ' IX. <■ A HEALTH UNTO HER MAJESTY . 20 August in children, victories, years X. LAST POST . 22 The day's high work is over and done ENVOY 24 These to the glory and praise of the green land Verses and Songs PROLOGUE When the wind storms by with a shout, and the stern sea- caves Rejoice in the tramp and the roar of onsetting waves, Then, then it comes home to the heart that the top of life Is the passion that burns the blood in the act of strife — 'Till you pity the dead down there in their quiet graves. But to drowse with the fen behind and the fog before, When the rain-rot spreads, and a tame sea mumbles the shore, Not to adventure, none to fight, no right and no wrong, Sons of the Sword heart-sick for a stave of your sire's old song — O, you envy the blessed dead that can live no more ! March 1 89 1. REMONSTRANCE REMONSTRANCE Hitch, blunder, check — Each is a new disaster, And it is who shall bleat and scrawl The feebler and the faster. Where is our ancient pride of heart? Our faith in blood and star ? Who but would marvel how we came If this were all we are ? Ours is the race That tore the Spaniard's ruff, That flung the Dutchman by the breech, The Frenchman by the scruff ; Through his diurnal round of dawns Our drum-tap squires the sun ; And yet, an old mad burgher-man Can put us on the run ! REMONSTRANCE Etise, England, rise ! But in that calm of pride, That hardy and high serenity, That none may dare abide ; So front the realms, your point abashed ; So mark them chafe and foam ; And, if they challenge, so, by God, Strike, England, and strike home ! December 1899. 4 THE MAN IN THE STREET ii THE MAN IN THE STREET ' Death in the right cause, death in the wrong cause, trumpets of victory, groans of defeat ' : Yes ; and it 's better to go for the Abbey than chuck your old bones out in the street. Life is a march and a battle (there 's some of us make it a kind of review) ; But how if you never get out on parade, and there 's not any fighting to do ? Hands in your pockets, eyes on the pavement, where in the world is the fun of it all ? But a row — but a rush — but a face for your fist. Then a crash through the dark — and a fall ; And they carry you — where ? Does it matter a straw ? You can look at them out of your pride ; For you 've had your will of a new front door, and your foot on the mat inside. THE MAN IN THE STREET 5 In fact, you 've done a pitch for yourself, and it seems, but it isn't, a parcel of stuff, For nobody knows, nor looks your way, nor cares — but you know, and that 's enough. ' Death in the wrong cause, death in the right ' : O, it 's plain as a last year's comic song ! For the thing is, give us a cause, and we '11 risk our skins for it, cheerfully, right or wrong. And if, please God, it 's the Rag of Rags, that sends us roaring into the fight, O, we '11 go in a glory, dead certain sure that we 're utterly bound to be right ! October 1892. PRO REGE NOSTRO in PRO REGE NOSTRO What have I done for you, England, my England ? What is there I would not do, England, my own ? > With your glorious eyes austere, As the Lord were walking near, Whispering terrible things and dear As the Song on your bugles blown, England — Round the world on your bugles blown Where shall the watchful Sun, England, my England, Match the master-work you 've done, England, my own ? When shall he rejoice agen Such a breed of mighty men As come forward, one to ten, PRO REGE NOSTRO To the Song on your bugles blown, England — Down the years on your bugles blown ? Ever the faith endures, England, my England : — ' Take and break us : we are yours, England, my own ! Life is good, and joy runs high Between English earth and sky : Death is death ; but we shall die To the Song on your bugles blown, England — To the stars on your bugles blown ! ' They call you proud and hard, England, my England : You with worlds to watch and ward, England, my own ! You whose mailed hand keeps the keys Of such teeming destinies, You could know nor dread nor ease, Were the Song on your bugles blown, England — Round the Pit on your bugles blown ! PRO REGE NOSTRO Mother of Ships whose might, England, my England, Is the fierce old Sea's delight, England, my own, Chosen daughter of the Lord, Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient Sword, There 's the menace of the Word In the Song on your bugles blown, England — Out of heaven on your bugles blown ! January 1892. THE LEVY OF SHIELDS IV THE LEVY OF SHIELDS Edward the Prince, here in Canterbury Minster, Between his deathless Victories, under his triumphing shield, Sleeps these five hundred years, Like his archers of Poitiers — Oj the dear, immortal Namelesses of that transcending field! And out in the working world, out in Canterbury Barracks, You hear the drums of England beat, the bugle of England blow Notes of empery that break Like a song for England's sake On your dream of the mighty captain that had led you long ago. io THE LEVY OF SHIELDS Yet, if he pass, in his Canterbury Chapel, The mortal part of him a strew of venerable dust, W'*-h John Chandos and his peers, And the armours of Poitiers, Still he and his valiant lieges are as fire upon their trust ; For — O, the dreadful English drums, the rending English bugles ! — South, and West, and North, and East, on all the winds that blow Round the quarterings on the card, Greatly willing, hurrying hard, Storms the soul of the Black Prince with all the fury of long ago. March 1900. THE CHOICE OF THE WILL n v THE CHOICE OF THE WILL We are the Choice of the Will : God, when He gave the word That called us into line, set at our hand a sword ; Set us a sword to wield none else could lift and draw, And bade us forth to the sound of the trumpet of the Law. East and West and North, wherever the battle grew, As men to a feast we fared, the work of the Will to do. Bent upon vast beginnings, bidding anarchy cease — (Had we hacked it to the Pit, we had left it a place of peace !) — Marching, building, sailing, pillar of cloud or fire, Sons of the Will, we fought the fight of the Will, our sire. Road was never so rough that we left its purpose dark ; Stark was ever the sea, but our ships were yet more stark; We tracked the winds of the world to the steps of their very thrones ; The secret parts of the world were salted with our bones ; 12 THE CHOICE OF THE WILL Till now the Name of Names, England, the name of might, Flames from the austral fires to the deeps of the boreal night; And the call of her morning drum goes in a girdle of sound, Like the voice of the sun in song, the great globe round and round; And the shadow of her flag, when it shouts to the mother-breeze, Floats from shore to shore of the universal seas ; And the loneliest death is fair with a memory of her flowers, And the end of the road to Hell with the sense of her dews and showers ! Who says that we shall pass, or the fame of us fade and die, While the living stars fulfil their round in the living sky ? For the sire lives in his sons, and they pay their father's debt, And the Lion has left a whelp wherever his claw was set ; And the Lion in his whelps, his whelps that none shall brave, Is but less strong than Time and the great, all-whelming Grave. July 1891. MUSIC HALL 13 VI MUSIC HALL (old burden) Storm along, John ! Though you faltered at first, Caught in an ambush, and held to the worst, All the old Counties were hard on the spot, For they hadn't a son but rejoiced in his lot. You had only to cart 'em some thousands of miles ; So you fell to your work with the calmest of smiles, And, each with her battles, your ships you sent on, Till you beggared the record — Hi ! Storm along, John I Storm along, John ! Storm along, John ! Frenchman and Russian and Dutchman and Don Know the seas yours from the Coast to Canton ! Storm along, storm along, storm along, John ! Storm along, John ! There was work to be done With a foe in full blast ere you 'd sighted a gun ! Came, the news came, that you reeled in the brunt, And at home, in a flash, it was ' Who's for the front?' -'< Southern Cross and Polar Star — Here are the Britains bred afar ; Serry, O serry them, fierce and keen, Under the flag of the Empress-Queen ; Shoulder to shoulder down the track, Where, to the unretreating Jack, The victor bugles of England play Over the hills and far away ! 16 TO AN OLD TUNE What if the best of our wages be An empty sleeve, a stiff-set knee, A crutch for the rest of life — who cares, So long as the One Flag floats and dares ? So long as the One Race dares and grows ? Death — what is death but God's own rose ? Let but the bugles of England play Over the hills and far away ! March 1900. OUR CHIEF OF MEN 17 VIII 'OUR CHIEF OF MEN' Did he say to himself, did he say at the start : — ' I '11 take this thing in hand, And in England's name, for a dead boy's sake, I '11 make them understand. ' They have given us war, good war so far as their burgher souls knew how : In a dead boy's name, and for England's sake, I '11 set my hand to the plow. ' They have beaten us, trapped us, foiled and fouled, been with us like a disease, But as yet they know but the best of the brew ; they shall learn the taste of the lees ? ' 1 8 OUR CHIEF OF MEN Did he promise thus in the thought of his dead ? We must do as we must — not will ! If he did, by the Lord he has kept his word, for they 've had of him thrice their fill. By the dismal fords, the thankless hills, the desolate, half-dead flats He has shepherded them like silly sheep, and cornered them like rats. He has driven and headed them strength by strength, as a hunter deals with his deer, And has filled the place of the heart in their breast with a living devil of fear. They have seen themselves out-marched, out-fought, out- captained early and late. They've scarce a decent town to their name but he's ridden in at the gate. Desert and distance, treason and drought, he has mopped them up as he went, And only those he must shed in the rush of his swoops were discontent. OUR CHIEF OF MEN 19 Patient, hardy, masterful, merciful, high, irresistible, just, For a dead man's sake, and in England's name, he has done as he would and must. So three times three, and nine times nine, and a hundred times and ten, England, you, and you junior Englands, all, hats off to our Chief of Men ! May 1900. 20 A HEALTH UNTO HER MAJESTY IX 'A HEALTH UNTO HER MAJESTY' (may 24, 1900) August in children, victories, years, Grown venerable in storms of cheers, Widow and Empress, friend and Queen, Resolute, vigilant, careful, keen, Ever as fire to find and take The only way for your Kingdom's sake, True to your course as a star is true, Here 's to our Sovereign — you, Ma'am, you ! You in whose life are shown in deed All the high virtues of the breed, All the high qualities of the blood, Energy, patience, hardihood, Strength in purpose, pride in strife, Disdain of death and trust in life, Heart to dare and resolve to do, Here 's to our England — you, Ma'am, you ! A HEALTH UNTO HER MAJESTY 21 Maker of Armies, Builder of Ships, Mother of Nations, on whose lips The words, ' My People,' shining forth, Set in one battle South and North, In a glory of steel, with East and West, To march and starve with a desperate zest, And die in their boots, so they pull things through, Here 's to our Empire — you, Ma'am, you ! 22 LAST POST LAST POST The day's high work is over and done, And these no more will need the sun : Blow, you bugles of England, blow ! These are gone whither all must go, Mightily gone from the field they won. So in the workaday wear of batde, Touched to glory with God's own red, Bear we our chosen to their bed ! Settle them lovingly where they fell, In that good lap they loved so well ; And, their deliveries to the dear Lord said, And the last desperate volleys ranged and sped, Blow, you bugles of England, blow, Over the camps of her beaten foe — Blow glory and pity to the victor Mother, Sad, O sad in her sacrificial dead ! LAST POST 23 Labour, and love, and strife, and mirth, They gave their part in this kindly earth — Blow, you bugles of England, blow ! — That her Name as a sun among stars might glow, Till the dusk of time, with honour and worth : That, stung by the lust and the pain of battle, The One Race ever might starkly spread, And the One Flag eagle it overhead ! In a rapture of wrath and faith and pride, Thus they felt it, and thus they died ; So to the Maker of homes, to the Giver of bread, For whose dear sake their triumphing souls they shed, Blow, you bugles of England, blow, Though you break the heart of her beaten foe, Glory and praise to the everlasting Mother, Glory and peace to her lovely and faithful dead ! April 1900. m <> ^< w? -*—** =i 24 ENVOY ENVOY These to the glory and praise of the green land That bred my women, and that holds my dead, England, and with her the strong broods that stand Wherever her fighting lines are pushed or spread ! They call us proud ? — Look at our English Rose ! Shedders of blood? — Where hath our own been spared? Shopkeepers ? — Our accompt the high God knows. Close ? — In our bounty half the world hath shared. They hate us, and they envy ? Envy and hate Should drive them to the Pit's edge ? — Be it so ! That race is damned which mises teems its fate, And this, in God's good time, they all shall know, And know you too, you good green England, then — Mother of mothering girls and governing men ! June 1900. MR. HENLEY'S WORKS WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR A BOOK OF VERSES IN HOSPITAL: RHYMES AND RHYTHMS. LIFE AND DEATH (ECHOES). BRIC-A-BRAC : BALLADS, RONDELS, SONNETS, QUATORZAINS, AND RONDEAUS. Fifth Edition. i6mo. Cloth. With Etched Title-page Vignette of the Old Infirmary, Edinburgh, by W. Hole, A.R.S.A. Price 2s. 6d. net. The Spectator says ' the author is a genuine poet . . . there is freshness in all he writes, and music in much of it, and, what is perhaps rarer, a clear eye for outline and colour, and character in a good deal of it. . . . Mr. Henley's keenness of vision, freshness of feeling, and capacity for song are unmistakable.' For The Saturday Review ' the ring of genuine and virile humanity is more singular in this volume than its clever workmanship.' It further com- mends ' his lusty vigour, his spirited ring, his touch of wholesome plainness and freshness.' MR. HENLEY'S WORKS The Athen^um discusses at length his ' realism, that is something more than pre-Raphaelite,' and notes his 'fine and winning kind of Rabelaisian heartiness,' and his ' manly and heroic expression of the temper of the sufferer. ' The Universal Review. — ' It is poetry, not merely measured prose or successfully jangled verse. . . . Neither the fancy nor the melody of the verse forms the charm of the book, though there is enough of both to make the fortune of many a minor poet. The real excellence rather consists in the kindly philosophy, strong, yet tender withal, which breathes from these pages — the words of a man who has seen both the gaiety and the suffering of life, who has had his share in each, and who now looks tolerantly or bravely at happiness or pain.' The Academy.— ' Mr. Henley's treatment of the Hospital theme ... is powerful, genuine, and manly throughout. . . . Through the Dantesque world of his infirmary the joy of a strong life runs ever like a stream. . . . Most of the poems in the Life and Death section are love-songs, warm and throbbing from the heart. ' The St. James's Gazette describes the volume as ' wholesome phantasy, wholesome feeling, wholesome human affection, expressed in adequate form. . . . The Hospital section is the literary picture of a section of human suffering which has not before found its artist. There is here the result of a direct experience by one who knows what to say, what to indicate, what to leave unsaid. ' The Critic (New York) thinks ' Mr. Henley the easy achiever of all he essays to do,' and signals out especially the 'joeosery, the grotesquery, and daintiness of form ' of the Bric-A-brac section. The Scotsman says ' the collection is one over which the lover of poetry will linger ... for its natural simplicity and directness of feeling, its careful, choice, and harmonious handling of language. ' The Weekly Register says of the Hospital poems, * They may be painful sometimes, but there is a tenderness in them which is educative to the most fastidious.' A BOOK OF VERSES The Scottish Leader holds the book ' to combine that realism of actual and detailed description with that obscure essence of feeling, held captive by the right words, which is the eternal distinction between prose and poetry. . . . Curiously and memorably vivid, full of deft phrasing, and perfectly free from prosaism.' The Glasgow Herald notes the '' terse and vivid suggestion of landscape and natural features . . . the dignity and beauty of the Rondeaus.' The Scots Magazine commends the ' felicitous union of vigorous thinking with artistic deftness . . . the robust and spirited tone, the purity and grace of diction. ' Merry England remarks that ' Mr. Henley, before writing his verses, has made a great sweeping movement, which has cleared out of his way all the methods and manners surrounding the practice of poetry — not merely the weak and large old traditions ostentatiously set aside by Wordsworth, but all the smaller conventionalities that are so constantly and imperceptibly accumulating. ... A poem which, as usual with Mr. Henley, tells the truth, and tells it with vital sincerity.' The Manchester Guardian observes : ' In a not inconsiderable reading of contemporary verse the two difficulties which we have observed as chiefly besetting the poet are — first, the difficulty of being forcible without being extravagant or grotesque, original without being far-fetched ; and, secondly, the difficulty of feeling and showing the restraint and discipline of literary sense and form without being mannered, bloodless, and unreal. Mr. Henley appears to us to have mastered both these in a very uncommon degree.' Finally, The Pall Mall Gazette is of opinion that this ' is a horrible, fascinating, and wrong, yet rightly done, little book — a book which no one should be advised to read, and which no one would be content to have missed. ' MR. HENLEY'S WORKS LONDON VOLUNTARIES AND OTHER VERSES Being a Second Edition, with additions of the volume entitled ' The Song of the Sword.' i6mo. Cloth, 2s. bd. net. The Daily Chronicle. — ' If ever a great strong nature revealed itself at a white heat it does in this volume.' The Scotsman. — ' Uniformly admirable.' The St. James's Gazette. — ' The work of a genuine poet ; you read the book in a glow, you close it with a sigh of content. ' The Star. — ' Extremely fine poetry. . . . Powerful to an almost uncomfort- able degree. * The Times. — ' Of exceptional interest and importance.' The Saturday Review. — 'These vivid and modern pieces of emotional description.' The Sunday Sun. — ' Passages instinct with beauty and sounding a deep poetic note. . . . More than one lyric in whose note there, is the true inevitableness.' The Spectator. — ' Militant and uncompromising modernity.' The Echo. — ' A poet of the new era, the era in which the scientific concep- tions popularly classed as Darwinian are so profoundly modifying men's ideas, not merely on religion, but on morals and society as well. His " Song of the Sword" could not have been written in any age except the age which has produced Darwin, and Wallace, and Spencer.' The Scottish Leader. — ' A wonderful variety of verse-effect, and an astonishing wealth of unexpected, and startling phrasing.' 4 MR. HENLEY'S WORKS The above-named Collections (A Book of Verses and London Voluntaries) are reprinted, with Omissions, Additions, and Changes of Text, in POEMS COLLECTED EDITION Comprising the Matter of his Previous Volumes, A Book of Verses and London Voluntaries, with Omissions, Additions, and Changes. Small demy 8vo. Printed at the Constable Press on Special Paper. With Photogravure of the Author's Bust by Rodin. Third Issue. Cloth, top gilt, 6s. PRESS NOTICES The Morning Post. — 'The brilliancy of Mr. Henley's versatile work in prose, not only as a journalist, but as the chronicler of Byron and the candid critic of Burns, has perhaps made us a little forgetful of the great excellence of his poetry. . . . His note, too, is the poignant note of actual experience ; it con- vinces us, as we fail to be convinced by " the happy, prompt, instinctive way of youth " that satisfies those younger schools that have yet to learn the wisdom of the warning : — " By thine own tears thy song must tears beget, O Singer ! Magic mirror thou hast none Except thy manifest heart." And this experience that has learned in suffering what it here teaches in song is not revealed only in those astonishingly vivid records, In Hospital; nor in the lighter personal lyrics of Echoes ; but also in the poet's wide and catholic vision of the elemental things of Life and Death.' The Echo. — 'Years of dogged and unfaltering struggle — 'mid illness, neglect, and bereavement — have brought William Ernest Henley late in life his meed of 5 MR. HENLEY'S WORKS fame and distinction. This most luminous and incisive of contemporary critics, this most plangent and representative of modern poets, is scarcely less a living classic than Algernon Swinburne or George Meredith. And yet how compara- tively small, though exquisite, is his literary output. . . . This definitive edition . . . only proves afresh its author's marvellous restraint while emphasising once more the vivid originality of a strong and compelling personality.' The Daily Telegraph. — 'The book, small as it is, is large enough to give its author a high place among the poets of the world ; and no one can read it without recognising that its size was determined, not by any lack of inspiration, but by a resolute horror of superfluous or ill-considered verses. From beginning to end there is no line too much ; one only regrets the sentence of exile passed upon some old, familiar numbers.' The Sun. — 'It is somewhat difficult to understand why Mr. Henley's ex- tremely strong and natural poetical qualities should have remained so long the admiration of a comparatively small band of admirers in a period when poetical fame seems won with little waiting. A great deal of Mr. Henley's late work is of the best which the time has given us. It is the voice of a great primitive personality. It seems sometimes the voice of a great savage ; but the savage of Mr. Henley's song is a strenuous, natural man, vehement in his fervour, fearlessly matched against Nature, but catching many wizard emotions and fancies from his contact with her winds and tides.' The Saturday Review. — 'He has the present satisfaction of knowing that all whose opinion is of any moment have come to recognise the value of the gems he has cast into the treasure-house of English poetry. ... No man of our time has addressed himself with more fastidious exclusiveness to the aristocratic judgment.' The Spectator. — 'No poet has ever so magnificently arid so truthfully transferred to his pages the strength and the sombre splendour of London and all the glories of her river. . . . Verse which is scholarly in the best sense, which is eloquent, which is full of passion and inspiration.' The Bookman. — 'It is timely to consider what his verse is worth to us. Time will rank it in the great lists, or blot it. Time cannot rank it for us ; our gratitude is overdue for the kindling of his robust, romantic, most friendly muse. ' The Critic. — ' One finds, on looking through the various sections of this book, not merely fine artistry, but a living character — a strong nature at harmony with itself. The outlook of his spirit remains ever fearless, ever heroic.' MR. HENLEY'S WORKS VIEWS AND REVIEWS ESSAYS IN APPRECIATION Second Edition. LITER A TURE i6mo. xn + 235 pages. Printed by Constable Cloth, top gilt Price $s. net. The Spectator. — 'This is one of the most remarkable volumes of literary criticism — in more senses than one it is the most striking — that have appeared for a number of years. Mr. Henley has been known for a considerable time as one of the most fearless, if not also as one of the most uncompromising, of art critics, the sworn foe of conventionality in "paint" and of flabby timidity in writing the truth about it. More recently he published a volume of poems, full of character, and in which "our lady of pain" figured as a reality of the writer's experience, not as a mere Swinburnian phantom. And now in this volume of Views and Reviews he figures as a prose critic in literature. . . . His book is not so much one of literary criticism, in the ordinary and proper sense of the word, as of brilliant table-talk. . . . Taken altogether, Views and Reviews will provoke as much censure as commendation ; for whatever may be Mr. Henley's faults, a commonplace habit of looking at men and things is not one of them. He is a master of a most remarkable and attractive style, — sometimes, indeed, he seems to be the servant of it. His book, therefore, deserves to be read, and will be read. And yet, unless we are much mistaken, it is but its author's preliminary canter in the field of criticism.' The National Observer. — 'This book, in many respects brilliant, unsatis- factory in not a few, is remarkable in all. ... It is but rarely that you fall in with so choice and desirable an example of the printer's craft. . . . The MR. HENLEY'S WORKS author's style, the author's point of view, above all the author's ever present personality, bind these fragments into a sufficiently perceptible and intelligible whole. . . . Mr. Henley's style is not equable nor serene, nor classic. Rather is it full of surprises, restless and capricious, with moments of immense power and dazzling brilliance.' The Speaker.— 'A good book of criticism. . . . Mr. Henley has much in common with modern French criticism. There is something of the same robust- ness of tone, magisterial finality of deliverance, uncompromising utterance of personal conviction, something also of the same strong and close grip of his subject. . . . He claims for himself "an honest regard for letters"; we may concede to him also other good qualities — sincerity, knowledge, and strength. His judgments are in the main clear-sighted, sane, humane, and generous. ' The AtheNjEDM. — ' The exceeding liveliness of his style, his fondness for epigram and antithesis, his love of paradox and generalisation, his faculty of adapting old phrases to new uses, and other characteristics of his, attract and delight the reader. ... He possesses a wide range of reading, real insight, a hearty appreciation of good literature, and a genuine faculty of making just comparisons. A collection of brilliant yet thoughtful observations on authors and books in which there is not a dull line, and which contains much that is at once original and true.' The Academy (signed Oliver Elton). — 'A rare and fine critical perception. ... It is crammed with good things, and the good things are those of a man who can be both a wit and a poet. ' The Book Gazette. — ' Mr. Henley is one of the most facile and charming writers of prose and verse in some of their guises that we possess. . . . The subjects he has preferred from all others in this volume are in themselves gems, and Mr. Henley has mounted them in a setting of his own design. This design is chaste and elegant, though, indeed, simple and free from ostentation.' Livre Moderne. — ' Un petit livre qui interessera beaucoup tous les Francais qui sont familiers avec la langue anglaise.' The Graphic. — 'A series of bright, witty, rapid characterisations of literary men, of the present and of the past of our own and other countries.' The British Weekly (signed J. M. Barrie).— ' Much wit, and here and there aphorisms that one may remember to be met before in newspapers, and wondered who made them. . . . Written in poet's English. . . . The printing (by the Constables) is a joy to the eye.' The Guardian. — 'Good criticism, that keenest spur to the enjoyment of good literature, is none so common in this country that we can afford to pass VIEWS AND REVIEWS over an addition to it in silence. . . . We cannot but acknowledge that he has put forth a real scheme, that he has tested the writers who have passed before him by real tests, that he has put results of candour and of true, though perhaps not very broad toleration, down in language which is for the most part at once dexterous and definite, at once critical and picturesque, at once sober and yet full of colour.' The Church Reformer. — 'A more valuable contribution to literary criticism has not been given to the public for many years. . . . The strength, boldness, and honesty of his judgments are beyond all praise.' The Tablet. — 'The book has something of the inimitable. There is force, there is selection, there is simplicity without blankness and elaboration without cramp. There is felicity everywhere, and a cleverness which is welcomed the more keenly for its rare companion, an abiding respect for the language in which it barters. . . . Throughout, moreover, there is the distinction Which Mr. Coventry Patmore has denied as the attribute of any Writer new in the last twenty years ; that distinction which, being of the aristocracy of letters, is indescribable (even by epigram), and is yet very secure. ' The St. James's Gazette. — ' Doubly welcome. It is good in itself, and seems even better than it is by comparison with so much that is either positively or negatively bad. He has something to say about forty authors, from Theocritus to Mr. Austin Dobson, and from Shakespeare to Dickens and Thackeray. He has read widely and well, he has thought for himself, he has the courage of his opinions, and he has a genuine love for all that is best and worthiest in literature. . . . Views and Reviews is a book to be viewed and reviewed by the real lover of literature, not once only, but again and again.' The Scotsman. — 'The pieces are homogeneous with one another, mainly because of the sincerity of Mr. Henley's judgments on, literature. . . . They are always earnest and honest, which is as much as to say that they are always interesting. . . . Not only readable from beginning to end (as is rare in a book of collected criticisms), but stimulating and suggestive in no common degree.' The Glasgow Herald. — 'If Mr. Henley can be said to belong to any school in literature, it is to the school of reaction in favour of virility and action against namby-pambyism, sentimentality and introspection. ... Of this school Mr. Henley is out of sight the best all-round stylist.' The North British Daily Mail. — 'Mr. Henley has constructed a work well qualified by its intrinsic merits to take a high place in the world of pure literature. The essays are a delight to read, and they furnish a curriculum through which all students of letters, old and young, may pass with profit. MR. HENLEY'S WORKS The Scottish Leader. — 'His prose technique presents much of the merit, one may say the genius, of his verse ; it has vividness, freshness, concision, boldness, and felicity in epithet. ' The Liverpool Daily Post. — ' The author of these essays claims for himself "an honest regard for letters." He has more than this, being very much of a literary specialist. . . . His utterances are characterised by a directness and a sureness that are quite French in tone, and with him, as with the French critics, the personal conviction is not unpleasantly obtruded.' The North Metropolitan Press. — ' He who cares for opinions, vigorous and heroic, set forth in a style at once brilliant and convincing, must not miss Views and Reviews.' The Glasgow Evening Citizen.— 'The author has a fluent and epigram- matic mode of expressing himself which makes his book very readable. The Perthshire Advertiser. — ' Has no equal for brilliancy of style, con- densed genius of expression, and literary grasp. ' The Australasian. — 'Exception may be taken to some of Mr. Henley's judgments, but one is struck by their general fairness, honesty, and sincerity. Moreover, his literary style possesses a certain piquancy and point which are decidedly attractive. ' The European Mail. — 'Be his subject what it may, there is a purity of artistic purpose pervading the whole. . . . His readers will find that what he offers them from his stores is deficient neither in savour nor in substance.' The Colonies and India. — 'A guide to common-sense in the way of criticism ; and not only to common-sense, but to style, to versatility of observa- tion, and to truth in the dissection of mental qualities.' The New York Tribune. — 'Original, keen, and felicitous. . . . Delicate and discriminating literary taste, and a happy faculty for analysis and com- parison. ' The Philadelphia Ledger. — ' He interfuses his criticism with the thought, the expressions, the personal glow of the author he is discussing.' The Boston Times. — ' Keen analysis, clever characterisation, and delightful expression.' The Chicago Times. — 'Thoughtful, vigorous, and stimulative.' The San Francisco Chronicle. — 'No more keen and pungent criticism has been printed in these days.' 10 MR. HENLEY S WORKS LYRA HEROICA AN ANTHOLOGY SELECTED FROM THE BEST ENGLISH VERSE OF THE SIXTEENTH, SEVENTEENTH, EIGHTEENTH, AND NINETEENTH CENTURIES The speciality of this Collection is that all the poems chosen are commemorative of heroic action or illustrative of heroic sentiment. Published in two forms : (a) Library Edition of Lyra Heroica, printed on laid paper, and forming a handsome volume, crown 8vo, of xviii+362 pp., bound in stamped gilt cloth, edges uncut, 3$. 6d. (3rd edition), {b) School Edition, 1 2mo, cloth, 2s. (3rd issue). A few Large Paper Copies of the first edition, printed on the best Dutch hand-made paper, and bound in Japanese boards, may still be had, price 28*. net. The book will not be re-issued in this form. PRESS NOTICES The Anti -Jacobin. — ' A body of poetry in which everything that goes to make up human life is exhibited in a spacious, lofty, noble, and therefore essentially heroic light.' The Spectator. — ' His selection is, on the whole, as good as can be.' The World. — * Enough left to stir all the boys' hearts in the kingdom as by trumpet.' The Guardian. — 'Mr. Henley has brought to the task of selection an instinct alike for poetry and for chivalry which seems to us quite wonderfully, and even unerringly, right.' II MR. HENLEY'S WORKS The Saturday Review. — ' A very fine book, which will, we hope, help to keep the blood of many English boys from the wretched and morbid stagnation of modernity.' The Scottish Leader. — 'The ideal gift-book of the year.' The National Observer. — ' On the whole the most representative and the most inspiring anthology with which we are acquainted.' The Glasgow Herald. — ' Mr. Henley has done his work admirably — we may even say perfectly.' The Daily Graphic. — 'A selection which all boys should and most boys will appreciate.' The British Weekly. — ' A collection of the noblest verse in our language.' Louise Chandler Moulton. — 'One of the best anthologies by which literature has ever been enriched.' The Scotsman. — ' Never was a better book of the kind put together.' The Pall Mall Gazette. — ' Every boy ought to have this book, and most men.' The Edinburgh Medical Journal. — 'He has mixed songs of battle, of love, constancy, and patriotism so well that even those who are boys no longer may be stirred and heartened.' The Illustrated London News. — ' Worthy to be placed on the same shelf as our "Golden Treasuries." . . .' The Speaker. — * A splendid book of verse.' Tablet. — 'Is a U>ok among books, an anthology among anthologies.' The St. James's Gazette. — ' Its note is a note of healthy and resolute defiance — the defiance of liberty to bondage, of duty to disgrace, of courage to misfortune.' The Graphic. — ' By far the best of the books of verse for boys. . . .' The National Review. — ' A manly book, which should delight manly boys and manly men as well. ' The Irish Daily Independent. — ' Like the blast of a trumpet, and it would be hard indeed to make a milksop of a lad nourished on these noble numbers. ' Sylvia's Journal. — ' Beyond comparison the noblest anthology of stirring poems and ballads in the English language — probably in any language. . . . ' ■ \^ ' la % ■■■'I'' iwiyS^Braa Mill <£. Tfc'^lB 5S5 ifi^^^B \ # / MMwggmSgBm tm •' SSS^^Stmi KtJJffiBwP^l^^^lBM t*a #$1 BBBC ^H^CTn^^^Si....,-.i^^^^ffP^ ART BOOKS OF THE YEAR. it. George on Horseback." From " Diirer." PR 4783.F6° rne " Un,Vers »l' Library F SrEnglancl'ssake i- j THE LATE WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY, LL.D. (From a photfigraph by G. C. Bera/ord, London.) Vi&# *.!«