The daily silver state. [volume] (Winnemucca, Nev.) 1903-1907, 1903-06-27
LAST NIGHTS
ENTERTAINMENT
(Contiued from page 81

lttlt
Nor what incense hangs upon the
boughs.
But, in embalmed darkness, guess
each sweet
Where with the sasonable month en-
dows
The grass, the thicket. and the fruit
tree wild;
While hawthorne and the pastoral
eglatine;
Fast fading violets covered up in
leaves;
Barking, | listen; and for many a
| have been half in love with easeful
Death,
Called him soft names in many a
unused rhyme
To take into the air my quiet breath.
Now nor than ever seems it rich to
die:
To cease upon the midnight with no
While thon art pouring forth thy soul
abroad
In such an ecstacy!"
He is deeply panied when he comes
to himself and finds that it was Just
a fancy and he must wait longer for
Heath to relieve him.
"Forlorn! the very word is like a
To toll me back from thee to my sole
self!
Adieui the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is famed to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! Adieu! thy plaintive anthem
Past the near meadows. over the still
stream,
Up the hill side and now tbs buried
deep
In the next valley glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled in that music-Do | awake o.
Sleep"
In the "Ode to a Grecian Urn" Keats
portrays his ability for such subjects.
The pictures on the urn were never
dim and would always be there. Ii
comparison with life which gradually
lades and finally dies.
20 attic SHAPED Fair attitude! with
biede
Of marble men and women over
wrought,
With forest branches and the trodden
weed;
Tho, silent form, dost tease us out OF
thought
AS doth eternity: cold pastoral!
When old age shall this generation
waste
Than ours. a friend to man, TO whom
thou say'st,
Beauty is truth, truth beauty-that is
all
We know on earth n all We iced to
know"
In this poem one does not see as
much of Keats inner nature as In
The Ode to a Nightingale" Keats
was above all things the artist. with
that love of the beautiful and that
instinct for its reproduction which
cared little about politics and philos-
ophy of his day and he did not make
his poetry tell of youth and gladness
But if he had lived and if, with a
wider knowledge of men and deeper
experience of life he would have at
tanned to Wordsworth's spiritual in
sight and TO Byron's power of passion
would have been greater than either
For he had a style-'a natural magic
which only needed the chastening
touch of a finer culture to make il
superior to anything in modern Eng
llsh poetry and to force us back to
Milton or Shakespeare for a compar-
tson. His tombstone. not far from
Shelley's bears the inscription of his
own choosing, Here lies one whose
name was writ in water" But it
would be within the limits of truth to
say that it was written in characters
that time cannot fade. Wordsworth.
say Lowell, has influenced most Of
the ideas of succeeding poets; Keats
their forme. And he has Influenced
/ fbQCn ont of oil nroDou4.-- j. -
amount which he left, or to his intel
tectual range, by virtue of the exquis-
tie quality of his techniques."
In the outline of Byron's life we
have mentioned his intense passion
and sarcasm. This bitterness of spirit
could = not be controlled because in
youth it had been cultivated instead
OF being softened. His mother had
critised his peculiar temperament and
had constantly leased him and made
MIN sensitive by referring to his lame
loot. His separation from his wife
ana the treatment by his native peo-
pie increased his passion, and his
hatred for England was eternal. In
nearly all of his poetry this bitter
ness and sarcasm is shown. He was
az hrst unpopular, but finally a fav-
orlte; ardent in his friendships and
Jealous in the attachment of those
whom he preferred. He preferred pol
ISL to originality and vigor. His
poems were as tales of the confession
all portraitures of passion not feigned
but motious he really seemed to feel.
He excelled in the stormy character
or his emotions, hate, rage. scorn.
despair, indomitable pride. In the
Coliseum he tells of it in grand style
but here and there a touch of sarcasm
and hate creeps in.
While stands the Coliseum, Rome
shall stand;
When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall
fall;
From our OWL land.
Thus spake the pilgrims Ger this
mighty wall
In Saxton times which we are wont TO
call
Ancient; and these three mortal things