and these partly account for the book's popularity, for Miss Terry was delighted
with them and praised the book and its author to the skies. (In her
"Recollections" Miss Terry says that she was more impressed by the genius of
Oscar Wilde and of Whistler than by that of any other men.) I reproduce the
"Henrietta Maria" sonnet here as a fair specimen of the work:

QUEEN HENRIETTA MARIA

In the lone tent, waiting for victory,
She stands with eyes marred by the mists of pain,
Like some wan lily overdrenched with rain:
The clamorous clang of arms, the ensanguined sky,
War's ruin, and the wreck of chivalry,
To her proud soul no common fear can bring:
Bravely she tarrieth for her Lord the King,
Her soul aflame with passionate ecstasy.
O Hair of Gold! O Crimson Lips! O Face!
Made for the luring and the love of man!
With thee I do forget the toil and stress,
The loveless road that knows no resting-place,
Time's straitened pulse, the soul's dread weariness,
My freedom and my life republican.

Lyric poetry is by its excellence the chief art of England, as music is the
art of Germany. A book of poetry is almost sure of fair appreciation in the
English press which does not trouble to notice a "Sartor Resartus" or the first
essays of an Emerson. The excessive consideration given to Oscar's book by the
critics showed that already his personality and social success had affected the
reporters.