Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1903-03-11


horse-radish bush, growing on the
sunny hillside. Hedoes not raise a loud
and exciting cry of alarm if he happens
to run across a rose with broken
stem, or hollyhock with respondent
disposition or petunia with a de-
fective digestive apparatus.
Kipling's poetry does not sound like
greenhouse catalogue, or a horti-
cultural report after bad season. It
sounds more like the essays they read
at the women's clubs. It hits every
body a jolt in the neck. It comes right
from the shoulder, and every poem is
like prize fight:
"Kiping's latest conquest-He goes
after all the crowned heads of Europe
and a hack driver by the name of Per-
kins-Emperor William knocked out in
the 23rd stanza-The boy with high
school spectacles hits King Leopold
in the reputation and the gay old
gentleman goes under the ropes never
to rise again-Every verse lands on
somebody-Joe Chamberlain and Per
kins go down and out at one blow
Kipling still wears the belt and stands
ready to meet all comers-Watch the
big event next week when he will meet
the German navy for Knockout"
And SO it goes with Kipling's poetry.
It is fine poetry, and it makes us fight
ing mad at the nations of the earth
every time we read any of it, but give
US, after all, this good, old-fashioned
herb poetry. That's the only real ar
ticle.
Kipling's poetry is like declaration
Of war set to tune. Anybody who
likes it would like to see Germany's
claim against Venezuela written in
rhyme, and the Monroe doctrine set to
the tune of the "Akansaw Traveller"
and the coal strike commissioners
report published in long meter.
We don't believe it is the poets place
to try to boss the government or strive
to whiplash the nations of the world
back into the furrow, anyway. The
true poets mission is to warn us that
gentle spring will soon be here, and
keep us posted on what the south wind
is doing and explain to us what the
violet says to the plowman and what
the plowman says to his horse when it
whirls around at the end of the furrow
and steps on his foot.
What does the bumblebee murmur
as he hustles and sweats all day?
What does the boy that he lights on
murmur and lisp, o, say? o.. list to
the happy reaper, cleaning the golden
grain. Or milching the COW in the
cleaning, o, listen to his refrainl
List to the words he utters as the
mich COW raises her feet and kicks
him out through the window, O, list
to his words, we repeat. O., list to
hisglad, happy carol as he sails through
the window, we say; out through the
window so swiftly, and making re-
marks on the way. Taking the win
dow sash with him, leaving the mich
| ing undone, kicking hole in the gloam-
ing, meath the fast fading rays of the
! sun.
That's the kind of poetry we are in
favor of. It is a poem true to nature.
There is no attempt to grasp the reins
of government or dictate the foreign
policy of this or any other nation.
You can't successfully mix poetry
and politics, anyway, any more than
you can mix humps and oratory.
The poets true place is to tell us
what the grasshoppers are singing and
! not what Great Britain should do in
regard to the Venezuelan controversy.
What would happen if all our poets
should attempt to usurp the authority
in matters of state and try to yanA
the governments of the earth around
by the halter straps? Take for in:
stance, in this country, where the poet
population is large enough to control
the ballot box, how long would this
nation hold out if they all went into
politics and got to debating how the
government should be run? #..@
/ It is really wonderful how this land
of ours is stocked up with poets.
| Why does the man who delivers your
laundry look SO wild about the eyes
at times? He is q poet and is trying
to think of word that can rhyme with
: butterfly without too much Of q strain
Why does the shoemaker stop with his
mouth full Of pegs ever and anon and
gaze far out into empty space? He is
2 poet, and is trying to think upSan
appropriate speech for the queenso1
the fairies 70 make upon being re.
elected for the ensuing year. Why does
the street car pilot forget to stop fo1
YoR at the corner !? Why does the bod