The Helena independent. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1875-1943, 1894-01-01

"ho nave heNsf lohA theF fntth IN the Qfeht
mission Of poetry. will ind In this poem not
only a master tonoh Of art, but a truth
which critics may we'll ponder over. Lay
ing for n momsnt ths consideration OF po-
etrJ aside. would il not BE- we'll for 10 10
weigh we'll she following lines ere We allow
our copies Of Wordsworth TO lie neglected
on our shoivss7
"His hills. his lakes. his streams are with him
yet.
suroiJ tho heart that read hor own heart clear
Nature forgets not soon; lis we forget.
We that with vserAnt soul bis hrity
Have slighted. faithless. don8 his deep faith
wrong
Left him for poorer loves. aud bowed the knee
To misbegotien strange new code 81 song.
Yet LED BY hollow ghost or beokoning ~
Far from hor homestead o. the desert bourn
. he ragrant soul returning 20 horfelt
henrly wise. must needs TO him return"
And when Ne remem Der tina, Wordsworth
has lost some OF his hold on abe present
age by what we too readily consider an in
telleotusl progress far in advances Of his
humble muse, the predatory atauzas 20 this
poem seem like q timely admoEition 60
those who attempt TO place 80 great poet
among those Who have sung only for the
age in which they lived.
1T may be that his manly chant. beside
More dainty Numbers. seems a rustic tune.
II may b thought Las b-oadenod since he died
Upon the century's noon.
IL may be that We no longer share
The faith which from his fathers be received;
IL may be that our doom is to despair
Who're he with JOY believed
Enough that there IL none since risen who sin "a
A song so gotten OF the immediate son.
o Instant from the vital fount Of things
Which is our source and goal;
And though AZ touch OF later hands there float
More artful tones than from his Tyre he drew,
Ages may pass ere trills another note
30 sweet 80 great 30 true
This poem is certainly art in the highest
sense. and better still 10 is art employed in
restoring TO the favor OF the age a bard
unTeasonably neglected. Not since "Ade-
nais" came in all its loneliness from the
genius Of Shelley has poet paid a higher
tribute 90 poet; not since then has the muse
sounded more fitting praise.
or "Laohrymao Musarum" little need be
said. In the midst Of all the rhymed non
sense which the death of Tennyson has in
spired. this elsRy staRds like gold in ths
dross, the one tribute In verse worthy Of
the master, who
"far beyond our vision and our hail
ls heard forever and is seen no more"
II is here that Watson gives us the key TO
his reputation as a poet:
The maker OF this verso which shall endure
BY eplendor Of its theme that cannot die"
10 is true that he has done something for
his fame by insspsrably connecting himself
with two, Of the great names in English
poetry. but he is altogether too modest.
His genius has proven a more important
factor than he is willing TO admit.
In tuning from these elegies TO the
Princes Quest" we meet with a disap-
pointment. Where the poet seems TO have
put forth his Rrestest effort. he charms us
the least. This lie the one long poem Of the
volume. but, aside from the mssserly use
Of language displayed. there is little in il
TO eluim attention. Itis relief 10 turn
from this poem to the "EpiRrAms." Here
Is quatrain worthy of Keats;
II follow beauty; Of her train ami;
Beauty whose voice is earth and sea and air;
Who serveth, and her hands for all things ply;
Who reigneth. and her throne is everywhere"
And the following must be quoted as lit
tie out of the poets usual vein:
His friends he loved. His fellest earthly foes-
Cats-I believe he did but feign to hate.
bly, hand will miss the insinuated nose,
Miae eyes the tail that.NAgged contsmpt a. fate"
The volume atounds In poetic gems. but
only one other can now be quoted. Wat
son has been looked upon as a passionate
admirsF of Wordsworth. and this is very
true. as much OF bis poetry plainly proves.
But he has other masters. In the lines
about to be quoted We sec him following,
unconseiously, perhaps. that greatest mas
ter of lyric verse Ia the whole range Of
English poetry.
Thy voice from inmost dreamland calls;
The wastes Of sleep thou makest fair
Bright DER the ridge Of darkness falls
The cataract OF thy hair
The morn renews it golden birth.
Thou with the vanquishei nj yht dost fade;
And leav'st tho ponderable earth
Less real than thy shade"
The mutablity of.literature hrs overcome
the spirit of prophecy in the critic. Names
once great in the annals Of poetry are nov
forgotten. while We revere and honor many
Others who were ignored By their own age.
We smile when We read the criticisms OF
DIR. johnson, and accuse the eighteenth
century of being wrapped in itself to the
exclusion Of oil else. forsetful that some of
our own idols may make Of us the laughing
stock Of tie century 10 come. What will
be the fate OF this little volume of verse a.
the yOars advance. cannot easily be deter
mined, but az We turn It's pages we can
discern in IL certain qualities of genius
which has been the stay of poets whose
works havs survived the age in which they
were produced. We certainly look upon IL
as a bad of promise. the fulfllmsnt Of
which We snKiously await while the poet
passes to the noontids Of life.
'Poems by William Watson. New York,
Mcmillan a 60.