The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1898-01-30

q.
men kind fate drops the works OF
Ems into the hands OF the common NOR
he /. likely TO feel-unless he wears
- a.sre Of those who rush In where an
-. fear 10 tread--a wordless incompe-
- steal over him. Nevertheless, won
8. .nd admiration may not go forth
s..ss and the intellectual wardrobe must
!. ,ausseked for flt expression wherewirh
!. c;oxhe thought and emotion
Al this IL By way OF saying that
=. volume OF sonEers entitled AT the
r.,s< of Song" recently published by Mr..
s..xd M.ffln, proves that a new poet has
| ~rs 10 the world, The greatest poets
~ have succeeded In producing sonnets
4 Exceptional merit. Many of Mr.. Mif-
| s,r,, are noble, and a few almost touch
4, Sublime. Mr.. Mifiiln Possesses In a
| - degree that most desirable Of all
.ss.s OF the gods--a glorious imagination.
| a. with all his fancy and bold imagina-
| axvnsss be ia never grandiose. In his
,aaest flights there - no disruption OF
,..xuage from genuine thought and feel
- While his poetry has the polished
,svsec,ion and purity OF thought which
s.assls to the intellectual rather than the
srctsonal side. passion Is there. half
,rlsd. suggested: II fingers in the lines.
,aough lis song Ii more the "far-of song
= ICY and elevated thought than the rest
sss sad music Of humanity That Mr..
vtfin does not regard great poetry the
,sult Of inspiration alone. but that to
,ae making of IL must go patient toll and
.perseyering study of the rules of art, We
| hrav. for he tells as IN his preface that
.ns who has given twenty years OF life TO
,ss s,ndy of poetry and art may perhaps.
!. the end of that time. be entitled to be
hsrd through the medium of his own
muse
OF the following sonnet Henry Richard
s,5daard says the man who wrote it must
he rsekoned among the masters OF Amer
kan verse:
The Flight.
rpon cloud among the stars we stood.
| The angel raised his hand and looked
and said.
NaIl We make wing top The still soli-
tude
Became harp wherein his voice and
Made spherai music round his haioed
head.
spake-for then / had not long been
dead
lie. me look round upon the waists. and
brood
A moment on these orbs ere decide
What is yon lower star that beauteous
shines
Ard with soft splendo- now incarnadines
Our wings There would ] go and there
abide"
He smiled as one who some childs
thought divines:
THAT Is the world where yesternight
you died"
The lonely bird OF the wave has been
/ evsr a fruitful theme OF song. The emo
non inspiring The Stormy Petrel'' Is not
an uncommon one. Much Of the charm
dad effectiveness of this sonnet is due.
We think. TO what Matthew Arnold desig-
ra,ed genius for style"
The stormy Petrol.
Onward forever by thy spirit horne.
Bird of the dim illimitable seas.
sWlnsing wild CULTS OF water at thine
Then all the surging waves with winds
a.e torn;
thou for the shore has never-ending
scorn,
And with thy brave heart to the howl
Ing breeze
Trustest thy life and all thy dest!nies.
wanderer OF lone waters half forlorn,
b. that dark demon, too. thou art pos
sessed
That drives thee through the storm at
any cost
Bird OF the wave, my soul, as thine. Is
crossed
BY the same spirit of undying quest
Far on the shoreiess ocean or unrest
Driven forever. and forever tossedl
Among those sonnets. chiefly pastoral,
which he has gathered together under
TIE title. I'm Quiet Fields" one entitled
across the Years" is fun Of meilowed
charm:
The old remembered barn-how gray
I. doomed above the orchard and the
spring.
Tire orchard where the robin used TO
sing
GGilaing his nest beneath the biossomed
spiay
Where are the rosebud maidens OF that
day.
Some ike the birds. afar have taken
wing:
Sane sleep below. but memories oft they
bring.
sseet as remembered odors OF the hay.
Al, ye, Orce more across the shadowy
years
She meets me In the cleaning down the
lane.
We hear the dropping OF the pasture
bars
4 Is the ,rystl.s hour. and kindly stars
boom In the twilight tees o
Love, q. Tears,
oh. youth that was-that will not come
again,
Ard when we come to that one entitled
me Close Of Day" Wa would like 10 % <
tse artists brush and brains and see II
eas az his pigments We can create pic
'sFe as undergraduates We think not. The
warden of words has given this poe. one
the golden keys that find the zone In
ssiiab'e phrase"
Aee saa IS sinking softly down the sky,
Ard all the air Is growing hushed and
s;iil
tiage Of rose has touched the purple
hill
nhete Sow the silver river rnurmurs by.
ane Busy day nas run the msll-race dry:
TIE wheel rests. unrevolving. by the
mill,
Where. Ike an amber thread, the
a.ndiei III
s''Fs past the yipeniug slopes OF yellow
rye
As yet .Ne Ssh g~ ssv~..krre.s -, fhn vanA