The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1916-04-02

ARISES We are not sure whether
they really mean 1t or are speaking OF
"%arrases.' T~ranslating is a difficult
task and should be put in the hands
OF real artists when II Is a matter Of
translating an artist.
recent English and American
Poetry.
There Is n peculiarly subtle prob
lem involved in the question why
England can produce great poetry and
America cannot. Most excellent text
books for study of this comparative
question are supplied by Georgian
POETRY l9l3-I9l5 by az. NJ" put
nams) n by the ANTHOLOGY Of Maya
-inc Verse for 1915 by WILLIAM STAN
LEY WAITE tGommc and Mar
shaiD. The former volume is IL very
modest appearance and contains the
nm of only fourteen poets. That IL
three less than Georgian Poetry for
ioll-l9l2' contained. The poets who
appeared in the earlier edition but are
dropped from the later are Gilbert
Chesterton tnever primarily a poet). 7.
Surge Moore. Ronald Ross. Edward
Eealc Sargent and Robert Calverley
Trevelyan. ON the other hand Ralph
IIodgson and Francis Ledwidge are
new names in the later edition: names.
too. 1t may be said here. amply justi-
fed by the selections given. The
Song of Honor" by Ralph Hodgson
is a beautiful ode. Take the sim.
plicity and d!rectness. for example.
with which the wide stiffness of open
air yuIxr. oil th,
hushed and the inner ones alert, liz
given in such a stanza as this:
1t seemed 20 s,ill the valleys werc
As II the whole world kncit in prayer.
fave mo and me alone;
So pure and wide that silence was
feared to bend a blai. "f grass.
And there ! stood like stone.
OR hear the triumph me joy in
such a stanZa as:
| h.ar+ the universe. choir
The sons ~ light e<al, their sire
with " ivsrsal song.
Eatth's lovlisst and loudest note.
Her million times ten million throsts
ENalt Him loud and long
And lips and lungs and tongues Of Grace
From every part and every place
Within the shining of His Face
The universal throng.
I heard It all. I heard the whole
Harmonious hymn of being roll
Up through the chapel VI my soul
And at the affairs die.
And In the awful quiet then
M"selt | heard. Amen. Amen.
Amen | heard mo cry
| heard Il all. and then although
l caught nay fyins sense. oh,
\ dizzy man WAS I!
! stood and stared. IN. sky was lit,
The sky was stars all over IL.
! stood, | know MOI why.
Without a wish. without a will,
I stood upon that silent hill
And stared into the ky until
NV eyes were blind with stars and s;ili
| stared into the sky
Comment seems superfiuous. As
Ruskin would say: "1f you cannot
repeat those words To yourself ten
or twenty times and be glad OF them
the twentieth. there IL no further OBJ
Ject in your reading poetry"
Francis I.edwidge is represented by
timer lyrics. three in number, but
two. at least. Of surprising loveliness.
Were it not for the use of the rhyme
pale" and pail" in "a Rainy Day in
April that little poem would be be-
yond criticism. Such rhymes are in
deed sanctioned 10y the custom of the
greatest poets and yet they never
quite satisfy the ear. There is a
vague sense Of something gone wrong
as n reads aloud. The last stanza
of the lyric on April:
See how she weaves her mantle fold on
fold,
Hemm!ng the woods and carpe,ing the
void.
Her warp is Of the green. her wool the
gold.
The spinning world hcr wheel.
The poignancy Of regret in THE
Lost Ones" recalls a tiny song Of
Ion of Chios and then of course one
Calls Il mind how Nil!on wrote OF them
long G Where are the loves Of
y~esteryear?":
But whore are the loves Of long ago"
%, little twilight ship blown up the tide.
Where are the faces laughing In the glow
OF morning years. the lost ones scattered
wide?
Give me your hand, o brother. let us go
Crying about the dark for those who
died.
We have paused over these Two
poets because they are new names In
WV TfiSlisH dhtIlbloSS anu diSD III Try
to show how well justified was the
editor in including them. To return
then to the question why England can
turn out such a volume Of yearly out
put. while the American anthology
turns out a book like MIR. Braith-
waite's. We think that perhaps one
reason is our total lack of critical
standards. AS against the fourteen
poets OF England, Mr.. Braith>vaite
presents seventy-three poets and lOl
poems, Very conspicuously absent
from the list are such true poets as
Louise Imogen Quincy. Georgiana
Goddard King, a poet far too little
known. Grace ~Lounsbury, t.d,tn
Thomas. Perhaps none OF these poets
published In 1915, although IL we re-
member rightly Georgiana King had
one or two Of her exquisite lyrics in
the Forum about n veal ago. How
ever. in such a regular haystack of
poets az are gathered here, she would
naturally he lost: for her art In too
fine n delicate. too highly polished
and rarely shining to come unframed
out Of the heap. We have not read all
the poems In the American anthology
but we have allowed MIR. Braithwaite's
enthusiasm to point us a way through
the maze and We have praycrfully
read and pondered the poems by his
NAM discovnrl~o th,,a oov,rnnuI>l