The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1894-05-02
4 IMAGERY OF SPRING. r.
Glorious Conceptions of the Resurrectio
Of the Year.


Glorious Conceptions of the Resurrection
of the Year.
Spring has come! For a considerable
part of the human race this is the most
beautiful sentence in language. 1t an
nounces the arrival of a new life, re-
newal of hope, "a end of various suffer
ing. conflict. encouragement Spring,
or at least some show of change and
renewal, is always coming somewhere,
but nowhere does it mean so much as
in these northern ATTITUDES for the
farmer, the poet, the young maiden
and the boy. There is not a human
being IN these ATTITUDES who does not
know when the sap begins to run up
the tree truAxA 1t is then, if ever,
that the poet taps the boles, and gathers
the sweet fluid into bucket and boils
1t down into poem Or it is then, II
he prefers another figure. that he
begins to sing like the early birds, who
are stimulated by the tint Of green and
the flush Of blossoms to thoughts OF do
mestic life. Why is it that spring poet
ry is considered fresh" and is quoted
low in the market? There is notion
that it is immature. People say that
they. do not care to drink so much sap:
they want art applied to the natural
product; they want 1t boiled down
till it will crystalline. They say that
much of the spring poetry is sticky, by
which they mean sentimental There
is some injustice in this. The poet is
really moved by the universal senti
ment and it seems hard that his prod
uct should be classed as raw material
There is no sound sweeter to country
ears than the cackle OF the spring hen
some morning when the south wind
blows and the snow banks are shrink
ing away, when the barn door is open,
and the caves are dripping, and the
fieecy clouds promise transition, both
showers and fine weather. The hen is
not making music, but she announces
that she has begun the production OF
q somewhat indefinite series of new
lives To US who know life there is
note of sadness in the cackle, for it is
probable that the maternal instinct of
the hen is to be disappointed by the
nest-hunting boy and the greed of the
family, and all her exuberant joy of
life turned into a commercial opera
ton. But no objection is made against
the eggs because they are too fresh.
Nor is any question raised by the
statesmen in Washington whether
they are raw material or finished
product. To the hen they are both.
The hen is no tariff reforner. She is
just solicitous for the prosperity of her
race. The poet is sometimes more cul-
pa BILE than the hen. He has no ambi-
tious patience to sit upon his eggs
long enough to determine whether
they have or have not life in them, but
he sells them to the magazines and
and the public is SO often
deceived that it raises cry that raw
material should not come in free.
But this line of remark belittles the
time of the year. 1t is a sort of Miriam
song of triumph that the Red Sea is
passed, and that the horrid forces of
the enemy are drowned in the spring
freshet. There is also in it the feeling
of security and confidence that what
ever Frost and Thaw may do hereafter,
things are going in the right direction,
and the sun is every morning rising
further north. In this exultant spirit
it is easy to forgive enemies and cred
itors. There are so many signs of
coming abundance and gracious ease
in living. Spring has come! But let
there be no grains of deception in these |
papers. 1t has come to the reader, but |
not to the writer. There can be no !
in the study if it's integrity |
is doubted. Its reasoning may not |
itself to the reader, but it is |
necessary that there should be belief |
n its honesty. While this song Of the
Vernal Equinox is being penned, the
ground is white with snow, the bare
branches of the trees are thrashing
lbout in cruel northwest gale, there
S sort of lurid light along the west
,rn sky, which If seen by sailor at
;ea would make him reef his sails and
'end the passengers below, and the
announces that a Rocky
Mountain cyclone is travelling thither,
along in the arms of Texan
hurricane. These are the facts All
he rest is the work Of the magma
ion. And it is justified. For the New
England man, most part of the year,
ives by his imagination. Without it
lie would psrish.-Charles Dudley War
Ter. in Harpefs MAGAZINE.