And then something of himself:

"Heigh-ho, I've seen worse things than morbid youth.

Inscribes in his dark diary. The truth

Remains that my few perfect moments seem

Eternal, and the bad ones but a dream."

We meet "Kitty, Copey, and Bliss" again in. "A Letter to Charles Townsend Copeland." To countless college men this poem will mean much; to the uninitiated, it may seem slightly nostalgic, and Mr. Hillyer, realizing the fact, chides himself for reminiscing too early in his life.

In "A Letter to James B. Munn," Mr. Hillyer discusses the conflict within him between the poet and the academic scholar. Also there are letters to Bernard De Vote, Peyton Randolph Campbell, Queen Nefertiti, and the author's son. Only in "A Letter to Queen Nefertiti" does he abandon his pleasantly familiar tone and adopt a more racy and a more lyrical theme:

"The granite coflin lid heaves up a crack,

Two mad eyes glitter as they pierce the black.

Slowly the goddess writhes from the embrace

Of heavy death, and drops with cat-like grace

To the cold tiles of darkness, while her sight

Widens its yellow orbit to the night."

Mr. Hillyer is a man who has long held that the roots of true poetry are thrust deep in the traditions of centuries. His is not the frigid, classical view of the pedant, however, for he knows that poetry changes with the decades. But poetry to him is sacred, and in an age of frantic, formless compositions whose only worth lies in the white heat at which they are forged, Mr. Hillyer's poetry strikes a sure note. A sincere consideration of "A Letter to Robert Frest and Others" proves that Mr. Hillyer's poetry will stand the test of time.