Donald Robert Perry Marquis was born at Walnut, Bureau County, Illinois, July 29, 1878. Since his boyhood he has been actively connected with various newspapers, his chief metropolitan success being due to his pungent column, "The Sun Dial" in the New York Evening Sun.

Many of Marquis's most penetrating and satiric skits have been collected in his prose volumes, Hermione (1916) and Prefaces (1919). Besides his burlesque verse, Marquis has written a quantity of serious poetry, the best of which he published in Dreams and Dust (1915).

UNREST

A fierce unrest seethes at the core
Of all existing things:

It was the eager wish to soar

That gave the gods their wings.

From what flat wastes of cosmic slime,
And stung by what quick fire,
Sunward the restless races climb!-
Men risen out of mire!

There throbs through all the worlds that are
This heart-beat hot and strong

And shaken systems, star by star,
Awake and glow in song.

But for the urge of this unrest

These joyous spheres are mute;

But for the rebel in his breast
Had man remained a brute.

When baffled lips demanded speech,
Speech trembled into birth-
(One day the lyric word shall reach

From earth to laughing earth.) —

When man's dim eyes demanded light,
The light he sought was born-
His wish, a Titan, scaled the height
And flung him back the morn!

From deed to dream, from dream to deed,
From daring hope to hope,
The restless wish, the instant need,
Still lashed him up the slope!

I sing no governed firmament,
Cold, ordered, regular-

I sing the stinging discontent
That leaps from star to star!

John Erskine

John Erskine was born in New York City, October 5, 1879. He graduated from Columbia University, receiving his A.M. in 1901 and Ph.D. in 1903. He has taught English since 1903, first at Amherst College, and (beginning in 1909) at Columbia.

Although most of Erskine's works have been performed in the capacity of editor and essayist, he has written two volumes of excellent verse. Acteon and Other Poems (1906) is little more than an introduction to The Shadowed Hour (1917), which contains such keen verses as "Satan" and "Ash-Wednesday" in which philosophy and poetry are interknit.

DEDICATION

When imperturbable the gentle moon

Glides above war and onslaught through the night,
When the sun burns magnificent at noon

On hate contriving horror by its light,

When man, for whom the stars were and the skies,
Turns beast to rend his fellow, fang and hoof
Shall we not think, with what ironic eyes
Nature must look on us and stand aloof?
But not alone the sun, the moon, the stars,
Shining unharmed above man's folly move;
For us three beacons kindle one another
Which waver not with any wind of wars:
We love our children still, still them we love
Who gave us birth, and still we love each other.

James Branch Cabell

James Branch Cabell was born at Richmond, Virginia, April 14, 1879. He taught French and Greek for two years at William and Mary College (1896-7), worked in the pressroom of the Richmond Times (1898), was on the staff of the New York Herald (1899-1901) and began contributing to the magazines in 1902, writing over sixty short stories as well as scattered essays, translations and papers on historical and biographical subjects.

Although Cabell likes to describe himself as a genealogist, he is the author of some of the most exquisite prose in contemporary literature. But it is a prose that rises high above its own

beauty of style. In books like The Certain Hour (1916), The Cream of the Jest (1917), Jurgen (1919) and the poetry-crammed "comedy of appearances," Figures of Earth (1921), the composite Cabell hero emerges, triumphant in the midst of his defeats the eternally disillusioned, eternally hopeful JurgenCharteris-Kennaston: a symbol of the human soul seeking some sort of finality, some assurance in a world of illimitable perplexities.

Though Cabell is best known as a novelist, his books are liberally dotted with original verses that do duty as chapterheadings, mottoes, tail-pieces, interpolated songs and epilogues. A complete volume of his verse, From the Hidden Way (1916), bore the subtitle "Being Seventy-Five Adaptations." It purported to be paraphrases from forgotten troubadours like Allesandro de Medici, Antoine Riczi, Charles Garnier and half a dozen other obscure Parnassians. Cabell even quoted the first lines of each of their poems in the original Latin, French or Provençal. Even after the hoax was exposed, it was difficult for most readers to believe that the entire collectionnames, references, first lines in the "original" and all-were the creation of Cabell, the masquerader.

In From the Hidden Way, the romancer has added another story to that gem-studded ivory tower in which Cabell lives and escapes the modern world. Whether he echoes the mediæval ballata or the more modern rondeau, roundel and sonnet, his is an artifice solidly erected upon art.

SEA-SCAPES

I lie and dream in the soft warm sand; and the thunder and surge and the baffled roar

Of the sea's relentless and vain endeavors are a pleasant lullaby, here on shore.

Since a little hillock screens yonder ageless, tenacious battlings (which shatter, and pass

In foam and spume), I appraise, half-nodding, much sand and sky and gaunt nodding grass.

And I am content to lie and dream; and I am too drowsy to rise, and see

If it be worth breasting-that ocean yonder, which a little hillock hides from me.

ONE END OF LOVE

"It is long since we met," she said.
I answered, "Yes."

She is not fair,

But very old now, and no gold

Gleams in that scant gray withered hair
Where once much gold was: and, I think,

Not easily might one bring tears

Into her eyes, which have become

Like dusty glass.

""Tis thirty years,"

I said. "And then the war came on
Apace, and our young King had need
Of men to serve him oversea

Against the heathen. For their greed,
Puffed up at Tunis, troubles him-