MacKeracher's collection opens with a sonnet that immediately establishes a dialectical habit of mind: 'Scorn not the Old; but hail and seize the New.' The poet's diction throughout this volume oscillates between formal, Latinate constructions—'tribulation sore,' 'bootless last regret'—and more direct, even colloquial registers, as when he praises his classical master with the repeated refrain 'My jolly old classical master.' This range suggests a writer conscious of multiple poetic traditions, from the Petrarchan sonnet to the ballad stanza.

The volume's structure reinforces this duality. MacKeracher groups poems by theme—reflective sonnets on time and loss, occasional verses on Canadian history, and light-hearted tributes—but within each group, his metrical choices vary noticeably. The sonnets adhere to a tight iambic pentameter, while poems like 'The Gold-Miners of British Columbia' employ anapestic rhythms and a choral refrain, signaling a deliberate shift in tone and audience.

Diction and the Classical Inheritance

MacKeracher's vocabulary frequently draws on a Latinate register that signals his classical training. Words like 'assail,' 'tribulation,' 'superseded,' and 'bootless' appear in the opening sonnets, lending a weighty, almost Miltonic gravity. Yet this is not a uniform choice. In 'My Old Classical Master,' the poet shifts to a more conversational tone, using the colloquial 'blithest' and the affectionate 'My jolly old classical master' as a refrain. The poem's diction—'snap of the fingers,' 'plaything,' 'jest'—contrasts sharply with the solemnity of the earlier sonnets.

This juxtaposition is not accidental. MacKeracher seems to be testing the boundaries of poetic language within a single volume. The classical master is praised for his 'fine critical relish of literature,' a phrase that itself balances Latinate 'critical' with the more sensory 'relish.' The poet's own practice mirrors this blend: he is equally comfortable with 'philosophical gems' and 'oratorical gold' as with the direct address of 'Here's a health to you, sir.'

Metrical Variety and Thematic Shifts

The sonnets in this collection adhere to a strict iambic pentameter, often with a Petrarchan rhyme scheme (abba abba cde cde). MacKeracher uses this form for meditative subjects: the passage of time, the loss of ideals, the 'saddest thought' of a life 'flowing like a river, almost gone.' The regularity of the meter reinforces the solemnity of these themes.

In contrast, poems like 'The Gold-Miners of British Columbia' employ a looser, more anapestic rhythm, with a choral refrain that mimics a work song: 'Then, hey, lads, hey, for the mining man so bold.' The meter here is accentual, with strong stresses falling on 'hey,' 'gold,' and 'bold.' Similarly, 'War-ships in Port' uses a ballad stanza with alternating tetrameter and trimeter lines, creating a marching rhythm that suits its patriotic subject. This metrical variety suggests MacKeracher was attentive to the relationship between form and content, choosing his meter to match the poem's occasion.

Recurring Imagery of Light and Darkness

Across the collection, MacKeracher returns to images of light and darkness to structure his meditations. In 'The Old and the New,' the old is described as 'A light dispelling darkness with its ray,' while the new is greeted with 'hearts that burn.' The sonnet 'How Many a Man!' speaks of 'fair ideals' that 'fade' and a 'numbness' that 'creep[s] upon the soul,' using a gradual dimming of light to represent lost vitality.

This imagery recurs in 'The Saddest Thought,' where life is compared to 'a river, almost gone / Into eternity.' The river metaphor carries its own light-dark associations: the river flows toward an unknown darkness. In 'A Late Spring,' the poet describes 'the sun's delayed return,' and in 'November,' the 'short days' and 'November sunshine' are noted. Even in the lighter poems, light imagery persists: the gold-miners seek 'yellow, yellow gold,' a mineral form of light, and the classical master's mind is 'still bright.' This consistent pattern suggests a poet who saw his work as a negotiation between illumination and obscurity.

The Poet's Stance Toward Tradition and Innovation

MacKeracher's opening sonnet explicitly addresses the relationship between old and new, urging readers not to scorn the old but to 'hail and seize the New.' This dialectic is enacted throughout the volume. The sonnet form itself is a traditional vehicle, yet MacKeracher applies it to contemporary subjects: the exclusion of Asiatics, the revolution in Russia, the HMS Dreadnought. He also experiments with non-sonnet forms, such as the rondeau ('An April Day') and the ballad.

In 'Literature' and 'A Library,' he celebrates the written word as a repository of 'things new and old.' The poem 'On Finding a Copy of Burns's Poems in the House of an Ontario Farmer' explicitly links Scottish literary tradition to Canadian rural life, suggesting a continuity of culture across geography. MacKeracher's own voice, then, is that of a poet who respects tradition but is not bound by it, willing to adapt classical forms to local and contemporary concerns. His classical master is praised for bringing forth 'from your treasury things new and old,' a phrase that could describe the poet's own method.

Readers approaching MacKeracher's collection will find a poet working deliberately within formal constraints while testing their limits. The sonnets reward attention to diction and imagery; the lighter poems offer relief and reveal a more playful side. Pay particular attention to how MacKeracher handles transitions between registers—from the Latinate to the colloquial, from the solemn to the jovial. These shifts are not inconsistencies but deliberate choices that define his poetic voice.