"Phœbus loosens all his golden hair
Right down the sky—and daisies turn and stare
At things we see not with our human wit,"
and
"A tuneful noise
Broke from the copse where late a breeze was slain,
And nightingales in ecstasy of pain
Did break their hearts with singing the old joys."
There are scores of passages like these. The great gifts displayed in the volume certainly afforded some justification a few years afterwards for the strenuous efforts which Marie Corelli made to get her stepbrother made Poet Laureate.
The "Love-Letters of a Violinist," great as was their success as poems, did not prove lucrative. Miss Corelli had provided for the first issue; afterwards Mr. Eric Mackay made a free gift of the book to the publishers of the Canterbury Poets series. The sales have since been considerable, but the arrangement made by Mr. Mackay was one which, of course, did not benefit him financially.
Shortly after the publication of "The Love-Letters of a Violinist," there were serious developments in Dr. Charles Mackay's illness. He was stricken down with paralysis, and the pinch of poverty was being felt, for there was very little
