The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1903-04-04

We have explained before that We can
do but scant justice to the poets. They
are 80 many. and so admirably operative.
and time and space are % inexorably lin
tied and opposed TO lingering consideration
Of them. Some day, when the miracle hap
pens TO US to be left alone with one poet,
We are going to follow him line by line;
and We trust that he will be grateful. But
with forty poets we can do no moro than
skim. II Is case OF step lively and
both gates" IL you please. Should 1t
seem TO them that they ought to indict us.
we trust that they will remember how
many they are. We assure them that they
are a yard high. piled one upon another.
Our whole experience has been that this
in a crowded and hurried life. When We
used TO hunt May flowers We said to our
selves that it was proper to leave some for
those who were to come after us. The
same with chestnuts. Sophistry. perhaps.
but something may be pardoned to those
whose knees culver under the burden OF
full hands. Mr.. Madison Cawein pub
fishes "A Voice on the Wind and Other
Poems John p. Morton & Co., Louisville)
He sings Of the winter wind:
The Winter Wind, the wind OF death,
Who knocked upon my door
Now through the kcyhole entereth.
Invisible and boar:
He breathes around his icy breath
And treads the hicksfing aoor
But was he invisible' He may have
ban NJ 6rpt, but certainly we have ocular
proof of him In the sixth stanza. where
we read
Again hear him. imp.like. whine
Cram ped In the eusty hue:
Or knotted In the resinous pine
Raise eoblin cry asd hue.
While through the smoke his eyeballs shine
sooty red and blue
We should be superficial indeed II We
did not notice the variation from 3hue and
crv. 70 scry and hue and the logical ad-
vance to the perception Of the color Of tho
annarition's eyeballs. Still he was noisy
rather than spectacular. The concluding
stAn8a says:
At last hear him nearing dawn,
Take UP his roaring broom,
And sweep Wild leaves nom wood and laws.
And from the heavens the gioom.
To show the gaunt world lying wan.
And morns cold rose a.bioom'
poets have their own ears. and rhyme
A they please. and far b 1t from W. to cay
that wan does not rhyme With lawn
or dawn We remember a charming
Enelish gentleman from Nottingham who
made ssons' rhyme with John. and II
~.s a pleasure to hear him. It was what
"a called. we believe. crisp Enghsh. We
have always tried to follow the English IN
their accommodations, because We know
that Ensland was the cradle OF the language.
Thew manage to mix US up. notwithstand-
inc their geographical limitations. America
which has a wide sweep, puzzles us less
hut Ia not for that reason to be sxooriated.
She does pretty well. We allow Tor the
feryor OF poets. In when the birds 20
North Again by Ella Higginson cine
Macmillan Company, we read:
II hate be unforgivabie.
Tnen must I unforsven be.
For I shall hate one woman. Lore.
For all eternity.
Forgiven or not. hate her 20
rnat dld she. burnt with fsvsf. ne.
ia sp,li the Ice cup that she crsvse
And laugh 70 see her die.
Yea. Lard, ysa, Lord--I hsse ~ 20
Tbsa. were shs sent 70 deseess ~
ia pray he swful hres misns %
Their part siov slow and well
We do mot know, Of course. OF what this
obieotiouab,e woman Was guilty, but We
vo,,ld trust the disposal Of her to the post
n IL came to the pinch Of real punishment:.
We bslieye that her offence would be found
to b oondonabis. In the very next poem