American edition, it is extremely rare and will undoubtedly be sought
after by collectors. But for one who is interested to trace the growth
of Brooke's power, the steadying of his poetic orbit and the mounting
flame of his joy in life, the poems of 1908-11 are an instructive study.
From the perfected brutality of _Jealousy_ or _Menelaus and Helen_ or
_A Channel Passage_ (these bite like Meredith) we see him passing to
sonnets that taste of Shakespeare and foretell his utter mastery of the
form. What could better the wit and beauty of this song:

"Oh! Love," they said, "is King of Kings,
And Triumph is his crown.
Earth fades in flame before his wings,
And Sun and Moon bow down."
But that, I knew, would never do;
And Heaven is all too high.
So whenever I meet a Queen, I said,
I will not catch her eye.

"Oh! Love," they said, and "Love," they said,
"The Gift of Love is this;
A crown of thorns about thy head,
And vinegar to thy kiss!"--
But Tragedy is not for me;
And I'm content to be gay.
So whenever I spied a Tragic Lady,
I went another way.

And so I never feared to see
You wander down the street,
Or come across the fields to me