An almost palpable darkness hovers over many of the lyrics of Marya Zaturenska, which move from the innocent fairyland of a romanticized child's world toward a place peopled by haunted men and women, and their fearful, august companions, demons, angels, sibyls, gods. Her lyricism lacks the austere quality of Louise Bogan's. That she has read the metaphysicals with a fond attentiveness, the epigraphs and the names of her poems bear witness, as does the tone of those religious lyrics which have the quality of pastels. But her dream-charged imagery, twined with roses and with serpents, belongs to another country of the mind. She may briefly recall to us the forgotten beauties in the old book of nature, bid us "Remember Paradise and its perfect climate," more often she will suggest "the Gothic terror". Her poetry has an old-fangled quality, even as she acknowledges the risk we run when...