The New York herald. [volume] (New York, N.Y.) 1920-1924, 1922-02-05

is because he does not rime up his
syllables or because he does not use
enough liquid voweis and thin veined
cadenced effects? But surely our
CeTs librists have punstured this the
DRY. And. thank God, Sentner is not
"clever!" He is an uncomfortable
at times irritating-person to have
about. You don't know, what he will
be saying next. His is no soft, gently
murmuring muse. He bursts our
silly bubbles, puHctures our elabo-
rate theories. is not at all careful OF
our feelings. He is rude and raul
cous. treading all over our carefully
watered geranium beds. He plants
himself squarely before us and bis
poetry is--what it is. 1t is BREATH
less to get itself all said. The author
has come by way Of the cobblestones
not carpeted fioors-and they have
bruised him many times. He looks
straighteyed at what to him is either
"a humorous spectacle or one shot
through with misery. AS he sees, he
reports.
OAAS ASCoA4c a lCsCih CIV Cixt6 AZ tllC
Poetry Society when Professor Frs.
kline Of Columbia University brought
rentner and a number of his coll
leagues as representing the best Of
the undergraduate poets. One re.
members how his vivid lines rang
out and the deep impression that he
made upon his audience. 1.-The world
win hear Of David Sentner!" they
said. We believe that this audience
as well as both Professor Erslzine
and Alfred Knopf know what consti-
tutes good poetry. But il we knew
nothing OF their judgment, we should
yet feel that here is poetry. 1t was
Tennyson who, asked what he meant
by certain lines. once wrote in reply:
my business is TO furnish poetry.
not brains for understanding it,
That is David Sentner's business.
One Of most cryptic and arr
resting poems is 1.-THE Bricklayer"
have been laying bricks
Each upon its brother
For days and months and years
And it is irksome
AS sitting the ashes Of hell.
y
remember when was child
l played with colored blocks
Untiringly
And found il good.
Nowhere has a poet recorded more
tersely the sense of loss in one who
never knew the country.
/ love to walk
Through certain city canyon
Thanked by cliffs of dwellings drab
Where grows a tree
On the outer sidewalk.
do not know the name Of the tree,
For am city bred.
Again. who has summed up more
effectively the life of city?
Numbers and prices OF things
Babies and married couples
Old ladies and sometimes old men,
Churches. lodging houses. theatres,
Sums and places to eat
The waiting for the man one step
ahead
To drop dead.
Underneath IL all
n series of CLOVIS ana hurts
And equilibriums
That only the person knows
But never shows completely.
'The Revelation" is packed into
these few lines:
In the blessed Beyond
The Soul of a husband
Met the soul of his wife
And said,
Il never knew you were so beautiful"
New York ''neighbors'' may be in
terested in this:
For years l have lived
In an ediflce of stone
But never met my neiehbor;
Yet we may lie
Side by side forever
Sometime il may be this poet will
sing of lighter and lovelier things
out of a less stern experience. To-
day he must record his treasure in
harsher terms. His notes must often
assemble themselves pell neil. We
do not look to him to do something
worth while in prose some day.
What he brings to as is new. some
thing seen by his own eyes, heard
by his own ears. registered by his
own spirit. MARY SIEGRIST.