New-York tribune., 1905-11-19

lack that poetic quality which, after all IS said and
done is the true breath of literary life This grave
defect in Dickens indicated in the words that pass
between the Wcllers, father and son, as the latter
reads for the edifcation of the former the valentine
he has just composed
''Tain't in poetry is t?" interposed the father
No, no." replied Sam.
..Werv glad to hear it. said Mr. Weller Poetry's
unnat raj No man ever talked in poetry cept a
bead1e on boxn daV or Warren's blackin or
Rowland's oil or some o them low fellows Never
let yourself downto talk poetry, my boy
Then at the conclusion of the effort Sam says:
Il could end it with a verse; what do YOU think;
4 don't like it. Sam" rejoined Mr. Weller. Il
never knowd a respectable coachman wrote
poetry 'cept one as made affectin' copy o
verses the night afore he wos hung for highway
robbery and he only Cambervell man, 50
even that rule.
But the average man, no matter what his station
in life, has a touch of sentiment in hin and more
or less of a fondness for poetry. He remembers
that wears ago it was his pleasure to read poem
that has fingered in his memory ever since. 1t
described the flight of angels from Heaven 20 earth
and how they descended to this planet on golden
ladder While they viewing the beauty
of our earthly Paradise there suddenly appeared
shadow across the land which caused shuddcr to
steal through their breasts. They hastcned back
to the golden ladder to ascend once more to their
ethereal realms All were successful in reaching
the ladder before it was withdrawn-all but two.
Those two have since been called the belated
angels, and the ha1f-forgotten poem closes:
And those beated angels be
Sweet Music and sweet Poetry
1t is this hidden sentiment in the hearts of men
that explains why they love poetry. They may
declare they do like poetry but they will read
street-car poetry. They've simply got to do so
unless they private carriage or automobile.
One of the worlds wise men has wisely told us:
Words are the only things that live forever.
little couplet or quatrain is easily carried about
in the corner of ones mind to be breathed forth
on any and every occasion. Not until some one
of a matchmaking turn of mind remarked that
Evening red and morning gray
Are fetch a very fine day
did a careless unobserving world know that these
two meteorological conditions the forcrunners
of fine weather. As matter of fact 1t is probable
that they were not so until this cOuplet evolved
since when the weather has been made to conform
to the state of things forth in the lifting lines
One of our best-known college professors has
said: Whatever your occupation may be. and
however crowded your hours with attaiT5, do not
fail to secure at least few minutes every day for
the refreshment of Your inner life with d bit of
poetry" As things used to be it rather difficult
for many of us to come into daily contact with
poetry. There were so many prosy duties keeping
us on the Jump from the time the alarm clock awoke
us in the morning till late bedtime at night that
poetry was likely to be side tracked for something
that seemed to be of more immediate Importance.
Now all is charmingly different. For five cents
Evolution of the Road