given.

The companions of this sonnet are respectable, but do not deserve much
warmer words; and then we turn to a style of poem remarkably different
from anything which the author had yet published and from most of his
subsequent work. It is not unnoteworthy that the batch of poems called
in the later collected editions _Switzerland_, and completed at
last by the piece called _On the Terrace at Berne_, appeared
originally piecemeal, and with no indication of connection. The first
of its numbers is here, _To my Friends who Ridiculed a Tender
Leave-taking_. It applies both the note of thought which has been
indicated, and the quality of style which had already disengaged
itself, to the commonest--the greatest--theme of poetry, but to one
which this poet had not yet tried--to Love. Let it be remembered that
the thought has the cast of a strictly pessimist quietism--that the
style aims, if it aims at any single thing, at the reproduction of the
simpler side of classicalism, at an almost prim and quakerish
_elegance_, a sort of childlike grace. There is, however, by no
means any great austerity in the tone: on the contrary, the refrain
(altered later)--

"Ere the parting kiss be dry,
Quick! thy tablets, Memory!"--

approaches the luscious. It is not easy to decide, and it is perhaps
in both senses impertinent to speculate, whether the "Marguerite"
(whose La Tour-like portrait is drawn in this piece with such relish,
and who is so philosophically left to her fate by her lover on the
Terrace at Berne later) had any live original. She seems a little more
human in some ways than most of those cloud-Junos of the poets, the