he lea;
Soft stealing shadows hint of cool repose
To mellowing landscape, and to calming sea.

And in that nobler, gentler, lovelier light,
The soul to sweeter, loftier bliss inclines;
Freed from the noonday glare, the favour'd sight
Increasing grace in earth and sky divines.

But ere the purest radiance crowns the green,
Or fairest lustre fills th' expectant grove,
The twilight thickens, and the fleeting scene
Leaves but a hallow'd memory of love!

DEPARTMENT _of_ PUBLIC CRITICISM

=Eurus= for February serves a double purpose; to introduce to the United
in an editorial capacity the gifted poetess, Mrs. W. V. Jordan, and to
commemorate the 87th natal anniversary of amateurdom's best beloved
bard, Jonathan E. Hoag. The dedication to Mr. Hoag is both worthy and
well merited. There are few whose qualities could evoke so sincere an
encomium, and few encomiasts who could render so felicitous an
expression of esteem. The entire production sustains the best traditions
of Mrs. Jordan's work, and forms the most creditable individual paper to
appear in the United since the dawn of the new year.

The issue opens with Mr. Hoag's stately and beautiful poem, "To the
Falls of Dionondawa," which describes in an exquisite way the supposed
history of a delightful cascade in Greenwich, New York. The lines, which
are cast in the heroic couplet, have all the pleasing pomp and fire of
the Augustan age of English verse; and form a refreshing contrast to the
harsh or languid measures characteristic of the present day. Mr. Hoag
brings down to our time the urbane arts of a better literary period.

"An Appreciation," by Verna McGeoch, is a prose-poetical tribute to Mr.
Hoag, whose literary merit is of such a quality that we must needs
lament the infrequency with which the author contributes to the amateur
press. Of this piece a reader of broad culture lately said: "I have
never read a production of this kind, more finely phrased, more
comprehensive, more effective, and withal, so terse, and throughout, in
such excellent taste." =Eurus= has good reason for self-congratulation
on carrying this remarkable bit of composition.

"Chores," by Winifred Virginia Jordan, displays this versatile writer in
a very singular vein; that of sombre, repellent, rustic tragedy. It has
all the compelling power which marks Mrs. Jordan's darker productions,
and is conveyed in an arresting, staccato measure wh