The Washington herald., 1907-03-17
POETS IN SADNESS.
Philosopher Demands Verses
and the Critic Complies.
"HURRAHp' CRIES SPRING POET
Muse Has Deserted the Treasury and
One Versemaker Has Gone 10 work.
Only Three People Contribute
Rhymes, and Two of Them Are sor-
rOwfuI--NO sopOrihc Verses.

OnAy IhFee FeDpie contribute
Rhymes, and Two of Them Are sor-
rOwfuI-NO sOpOrihc Verses.
cit would seem, my friend, that your
/ poets have deserted you said the Phi
losopher, as he caught up with the Critic.
who was walking down Sixteenth street
and caught him by the arm
''Ah is that you?" Tejoined the Critic
No not deserted. only. strange 10 say,
1 am hoist by my own petard. You
remember my Treasury bard?"
/ Yes"
"Well. I hope / haven't done wrong.
/ Tn afraid / encouraged him too much
] perhaps. He has quit the Treasury, de
| serted the Muse and has now taken ~
newspaper work Now he wants pay fog
/ his stun. It's a mad world, Philosopher
1t is. indeed; but what have you in
the portfoHo?"
Merely some verses that have been
| contributed; here is one in blank verse,
and here is a letter from lady who had
I written me some poetry saying that she
/ is afraid to write apy more poetry be-
c1use the literary editor Of my paper cut
up some Chicago lady's Beehive Of
Verse last Sunday"
/ oh we'll" said the Philosopher. IF
/ the lady is timid don't urge her. / like
your poets who dare much and bravely.
As for the timid fellows who write blank
verse, pah. 1t shows laziness;
/ For rhyme the rudder is of verses.
/ With which. like ships. they steer their courses
| you remember your Hudibras,' OF
| course?"
Yes. and yet rhyme is not everything
I'm not going to print this blank verse;
because its a little too badly DONE but
as an answer to your 'Hudibras let me
remind you what Pope says
Where yoa hnd 'the cooling western bTorze
In the next line it whispers through the trees
If crystal streams. with pleasing muTmUs creep. %
Tho readers thrJaten'd mot il sainl with sleep
well Mr. Critic" said the Philoso-
/ pher, III any of your contributors have
a soporifc among their verses. j shan t
mind
Il don't know" replied the Critic.
stop here. by this awful statue Of the
medicine-man with the gaudy mosaic be-
hind his head, and We will see. All! How
DO you like this? Spring poetry again
SPRING IS HERE
Spring is here, Huruh. Huuah
Throw aside your winter wraps.
! lay away y0ur heavy cla1s.
Come out IN The sunny air.
Plan anew your rarest sports,
For We E need them al ere long
/ Spring is here, Hurrah. Hauehi
How we'll charm away the time.
Bring the horses from their stalls,
/ go. get ready. ladies. all
On the jaunt ven spend The day.
/ Ger the hills and lar away.
Spring is here. Hursh, Hur1h!
Mcuily down Che lane We 60,
Prarciug lightly on the green.
Horses rearing Ia the breeze.
Laughing loudly. singing gay.
Over ;he hills ard FAR aaay,
Spring ia here, Huuah. Hurrsht
Never q momeft viii waste.
HOW wen make the welkin rus
As We deuce the highland hine.
Over hClds ard fCny dcls.
Racing wiki happy yells!
srrirg j. here. Hmah. Bursh.
No more cold and dreary days
Don your boots and light attire.
Get ont IN the bzCiug air.
Plan anew For rarest sports,
For We want them all. and more,
jamie Peabody shaw.
no. I'm not asleep yet" said the
/ Philosopher, that Hurrah, hurraht
sounds Ike a college yell. But what
strange antics your poet makes her peO-
pie play. Even If spring is here-which
/ Il IS not-I don't feel like 'prancing on
the green de your
Hardly. at ny time OF life" replied
the Critic "IIcre IS a poem in more Sc
date and solemn mood. Listen reverent-
! ly."
On, Thou, who knoweth long beforehand all my
needs.
Teach me 20 pray as Thou would'st have me pray,
/ & s1ppicati0n hlossoming 10 deeds,
And strengthen Thou me day by day.
] No supiue ClingIng. nor 20 do IN paTt
/ The work which Thou did'st give.
/ But to give my life. my strength. my heart.
That ] may know Thy word and live.
/ Teach ne as Thou would 50 have live 20 Thee.
That may share this promise Thou hast blest.
He brnSeth them unto the haven where they would
BE-
Then are they glad. because they are at rest
! Eleanor Eversheld
"Humph." growled the Philosopher.
"why don't people go 10 church when
they feel ike that? Why should young
poets be so sad?''
know the value Of putting ones grief
into some definite form;
Give sorrow words; the grisf that does not speak
Whispers the oerfraught heart and bids it break.
Good enough" said the Philosopher,
You have cleverly answered me. or
rather Macbeth has for you. What else
have you?"
another sorrowful poem." said the
Critic.
Mercy" cried the Philosopher d" One
woe doth tread upon anOther's heels, but
read it, pray
Have at you then" rejolned the Critic.
and read the following
II I should go away some day
And friends should gather at my bier
| To speak Of loving deeds I'd done,
| Or drop a kind. forgiFing tear
| For these I did not do,
! 'TwUuld matter not 10 me that day
should not need them then as now
| When friends are few
| I should be far away.
But rather far would prefer
That they would drop cheerful word,
And when in trouble deep draw near
| While travelling this rugged road.
For when I 60 away some day
TO where no traveller returns
| Thera'u he no heaTtaches left behind
where painful memory burns
When I am gone away.
E. T. Carter.
well" said the Philosopher, this seat
Is cold and you have moved me to the
verge Of tears. Good-day, but pray, my
Critic. get your people 20 write more
cheerfully: the world is not really like
that you know.
"Good-day to you. Philosopher, but
nv, ,,corIe shall write as they will Good