Mason is a legendary name in New Zealand's brief poetic history. He was the first of the few. Now at last, in this collected edition, his work is accessible again, and can be seen as a whole.
Bring clove cinnamon and mace for no path my love must tread but for the quiet place where her small powerful face lies strong and dead : perfume her lovely head—
What need is there for such aid when the curls crowding her brow and the sweetness that is made from her bright body still evade her death, even now as fragrant as a pine-bough
As a bough that sings where it soars unseen far aloft and unknown and in the sweet evening pours its murmur of surf on far shores to the sky alone with a soft and melodious tone?
An intriguing collection of poems from a writer regarded as an early modernist among New Zealand poets. While there were many fine poems and sections of poems in this collection, and I can see why the writer is regarded highly, overall it just wasn't quite to my taste. Perhaps it was the overemphasis on religious verse, which makes up a sizeable part of this collection, or on the sonnet form, which seems to have been a favourite of Mason's, but for some reason I found it hard to enthuse over the collection as a whole. Despite that, as I said, there were many instances where the writer did strike a resonant chord, enough that overall I feel 3.5 stars would be an appropriate rating.