The news scimitar. (Memphis, Tenn.) 1907-1926, 1920-11-26
Our New Poet.


on the Parnassian heights.
J Memphis has produced just such a
writer, and has every reason to be
proud of him. He is Walter Nc
Clellan, and he sounds high, pure
strain that echoes full and clear
over the sun saturated hills and
w-spangled wales of his native
Tennessee. Listen to this from Con-
temporary Verse, a magazine that is
harder to enter than it is for rich
man or Fatty Arbuckle to thread
the eye of a needle:
THE EEL SPEARER.
| (F'rom the Blue Ridge.)
Lonely he treads the stones of our
stream,
A hunter alone in the night.
He bears no torch but the shining
OF his feet in the stream,
He carries no spear;
Yet the game of his hunting is
caught.
Come up, come up to the shining,
| The loveliness of his feet!
For God is tramping the world,
And He is the spearer Of souls,
Here in the waters of night
Rise up to the Shining
Here is a singer lifting noble
strain in the highways and byways
of our state. His is not a pagan lay
calling to Pan, satyr, dryad or hama
dryad. but the magic voice of one
with crystal clear vision finding ce-
lestial inspiration in humble pur-
suits. Unlike Whitman. he does not
vaunt with supreme arrogance, "I
sing myself and celebrate myself"
nor is he guilty of the many mani
ties of that master. For instance,
Whitman cries:
Who comes there, gross. mystical,
nude? -
How is it extract strength from
the beef l eat?"
This is called poetry-by some. If
thing is gross how can it be mys-
teal? The terms are incompatible.
If he wanted to know how he OBJ
tanned strength from, the porterhouse
or roast beef au jus that he dined
upon. why didn't be ask the butcher
or the cook, or, better still, the
psychologist? To paraphrase Madame
Roland: 20 Poetry, what a lot of
humbug is committed in they name!"
oppenheim is another sinner. Lis
ten to this meretricious effusion OF
froth, flubdub and flapdoodle;
THE Baltimore trolley cars go
TANNED with summer fluff and
straw hats
Out to Electric City
Trolleys along the Atlantic coast,
Trolleys in the Alleghanies,
Trolleys making the loop in soot-soft
Pittsburgh"
One convenient thing about this
sort Of stuff is that you can keep on
ringing the changes until you have
the page filled. just as vorticist can
change the title of a picture if it
doesn't sell from SKY Blue Cat
Having a Pink Fit in a Green Alley"
to "Nocturne of a Nightmare" with
out anyone being the wiser. Truly
the new art and the new literature
have their compensations.
DR.. Paul Shorey, head professor of
Greek at the University of Chicago
strongly condemns such shallow
ness and vulgarity of soul" On the
other hand he rejoices with the true
spirit OF the adventurer and beauty
lover when he comes across such
lines as these of Sasoon's THE hol-
low cry of hounds like silver bells"
and also the musical cadence of
Winds, birds and glittering leaves
that flare and fall" We feel sure
that when he reads this gem of our |
Memphian Apollo, which appeared
in Poetry last month he will give |
vent to his JOY. In liquid melody
and felicitous tone hrasing it is be-
yond all praise. 1t is poetic cameo |
2ut with a master hand:
TOSTTS GOODBYE.
(In a Southern Garden)
Very stn she has stood by the stucco |
wall,
n the fine dust, in the piCkannnies
tracks.
Now that she is going does no one
sec her, no one care?
But frcer than wood smoke she
steals from the yard
When the last leaves go.
Dropping one by one on her moving
head.
IN her hair az soft as cotton when |
the bolls are bursting open
n November. in the fall;
Dead leaves that touch the maidens |
forty and thirty nine
in their hearts all the sharp
sweet cries
Their mouths have mover said;
rill the held-dOwn signs go flying |
on before,
Small faint flutters in the thin gold
air
Blown like feathers to that cleaning
head.
And 10. hIackbirds are there. feet
and wings in her hair!
How they swirl against the sun"
says Josephine TO Rose.
Judging by the way prices are be-
ng reduced it will be possible soon
o buy a pair Of shoes with the price