This resurrection had begun in _Fifine at the Fair_.

I have said it would not be just to class this poem with the other three.
It has many an oasis of poetry where it is a happiness to rest.

But the way between their palms and wells is somewhat dreary walking, except to those who adore minute psychology.

The poem is pitilessly long.

If throughout its length it were easy to follow we might excuse the length, but it is rendered difficult by the incessant interchange of misty personalities represented by one personality.