The Washington times., 1922-01-29
BY AMES KENDRICK.

served with considerable APP
prehension a constantly accumulat.
ing pile Of books of verse upon our
desk While we are not entirely
agreed with the sixteenth century
person who. wrote in the quaint
phraseology of the time. 1T seemeth
unto me that in all ages poetry. hath
been not only permitted, but also It
hath been thought a right good
thing" nor with Plato in excluding
poets from his philosophical Utopia,
we have deferred plunging head,
long into the torrent descended
upon us from Parnassus until the
time has come when. in self defense.
we feel that something must be done.
With prayer on our lips and eyes
closed we plunge a hand into the
piled-up inspirations of the muse
and find ourseif in possession of a
highly ornate volume of ample pro-
portions. bearing the entitlement,
Songs of Florida
Examination Of the title page dis
closes that George Graham Currie
proclaims to all the world that he
assumes responsibility therefor. and
that James T. White & Co., New
York, are the publishers. Turning
several pages, containing predatory
remarks and poem written by the
authors eieven.year old son. we are
confronted by an index Of contents.
This index appearing voluminous. to
say the least. In order that we may
adventure prudently among. so many
gems of poesy. we count the titles
and discover Mr.. Currie to be the
author Of no less than 2O9 poems.
We feel that this is going to be 4
hard evening. 49,.
Reading in, and among, and around
these productions of the Florida
minstrel, we became dimly aware of
something amiss. A little cloud.
appearing on the, horizon, shrouds
the Parnassian heights. We shiver
In apprehension. where we should be
warmed by ting fires Of genius. With
first an adumbration of light. then
with the suddenness of an Eastern
dawn, the discovery is upon us that
these are no works of a soul pos
sessed by the divine frenzy but that
the Tyre is smitten, the muse Is
wooed, the heights attempted in
gIorification of the real estate OF
Florida.
Casting an intrepid eye further. we
find, fronting page 201. an illustra-
ton of a crowd of West Palm
Beach boosters manning a canal
boat in the heart of the Florida Ever
glades. Like Paolo and Francesca,
we shall read no more in this book
tonight. 49,. 49,.
DEPRESSING ourselves with a
gourd Of prime old white mule,
aged in transit, presently our soul
grows stronger, and we pluck
another from the poetic treas
ure.trove upon our desk. BY its
slenderness, this volume recon-
mends itself to us even before we
note Its title and authorship. "The
Journey: Odes and Sonnets" is by
Gerald Gould, Yale University Press,
and we breathe easier.
We read the first ode, beginning
| "You are so young
Vet older than the eldest things that be.
| Older than cliffs affronted by the sea,
That crumble into legend, shelf by
! shelf"
and are convinced that the uni
| versity campus is immensely su-
perior to the corner lot on Main
street as a location for the pavilion
of the minnesinger. Here is real
poetry, we say. and we are not par
tial to the ode as a poetic form,
either.
MIR. Gould's sonnets interest US far
more than his odes. excellent though
| the latter are. We quote sonnet ri
in full as a fair example of the
beauty of form and imagery Of the
collection:
Love. do you love me? All the winds
And ali the days Herewith; and still
and still.
The lonely tree upon the lonely hill
Stands dark and changeiess In the
! changing sky;
! Beneath Il cry the waves. and the winds
About It, and have never cried their
They cry for wasted faith and broken
| will:
| And every wave and every wind is I.
Love. will you follow me when the winds
| forsake
The hollow day and hollow night, and
! In place Of our warm human hearts
| that grieve,
Only the lack Of all worth grieving for
| When there's no faith to waste nor will
And the waves cry and the winds cry
| no more.
NEXT comes to light Sea
Lanes" by Burt Franklin Jen-
ness, lieutenant commander, United
States Navy, retired. published by
| the Cornhill Co., Boston.
We like the barcarolle effect, the