Millions of Strange Shadows is only [Hecht's] third volume of original poetry in nearly three decades, the first since The Hard Hours (1967) was awarded the Pulitzer Prize. Anthony Hecht remains one of a shrinking handful of our most skilled poetic craftsmen. This is not to imply that his music overwhelms his substance, but the music is unforgettable. Listen, for instance, to one segment from "The Cost," a poem addressing the wages of war:

        Think how some excellent, lean torso hugs
             The brink of weight and speed,
        Coasting the margins of those rival tugs
             Down the thin path of friction,
        The athlete's dancing vectors, the spirit's need,
             And muscle's cleanly diction.

It strikes me that this passage, pinched out of context, not only opens discussion on the standards and values of human conflict, but also is descriptive of the finest of Hecht's writing. Surely his messages conform to media...