So assured is the utterance here, so convinced the diction and so swift the procession of tropes, that I suspect the most availing strategy for a new reader (it would be a literalism to call Mr. McLeod a “new” poet, for he incessantly reverts to practiced stanzas, sonnets and sestinas, a litany of old contraptions and even older disciplines, of which more presently)—for a new reader, then, beset by so many discoveries all at once, so rich a designation of wonders, best to adopt this drastic approach: in the destructive element immerse, that is, read right through all the...