Is not for stones. But I shall go down from this airy space, this swift white peace, this stinging exultation; And time will close about me, and my soul stir to the rhythm of the daily round. Yet, having known, life will not press so close, For once I stood In the white windy presence of eternity. Sara Teasdale Sara Teasdale was born August 8, 1884, at St. Louis, Missouri, and educated there. After leaving school, she traveled in Europe and the Near East. In 1914, she married Ernst B. Filsinger, who has written several books on foreign trade, and moved to New York City in 1916. Her first book was a slight volume, Sonnets to Duse (1907), giving little promise of the rich lyricism which was to follow. Helen of Troy and Other Poems (1911) contains the first hints of that delicate craftsmanship and authentic loveliness which this poet has brought to such a high pitch. Rivers to the Sea (1915) emphasizes this poet's singing intensity as well as her epigrammatic skill. But a greater restraint is here. The new collection contains at least a dozen unforgettable snatches, lyrics in which the words seem to fall into place without art or effort. Seldom employing metaphor or striking imagery, almost bare of ornament, these poems have the sheer magic of triumphant song. Theirs is an artlessness that is more than an art. Love Songs (1917) is a collection of Miss Teasdale's previous melodies for the viola d'amore together with several new tunes. Flame and Shadow (1920) is, however, by far the best of her books. Here the beauty is fuller and deeper; an almost mystic radiance plays from these starry verses. Technically, also, this volume marks Miss Teasdale's greatest advance. The words are chosen with a keener sense of their actual as well as their musical values; the rhythms are much more subtle and varied; the line moves with a greater naturalness. The park is filled with night and fog, Gold and gleaming the empty streets, Oh, is it not enough to be Here with this beauty over me? My throat should ache with praise, and I With youth, a singing voice, and eyes. I, for whom the pensive night 1 'Reprinted by permission of the publishers, The Macmillan Company, from Rivers to the Sea by Sara Teasdale. NIGHT SONG AT AMALFI1 I asked the heaven of stars I asked the darkened sea Down where the fishermen go— Oh, I could give him weeping, WATER LILIES 2 If you have forgotten water-lilies floating On a dark lake among mountains in the afternoon shade, If you have forgotten their wet, sleepy fragrance, But if you remember, then turn away forever To the plains and the prairies where pools are far apart, There you will not come at dusk on closing water lilies, And the shadow of mountains will not fall on your heart. 1Reprinted by permission of the publishers, The Macmillan Company, from Love Songs by Sara Teasdale. 2 Reprinted by permission of the publishers, The Macmillan Company, from Flame and Shadow by Sara Teasdale. TWO SONGS FOR SOLITUDE The Crystal Gazer I shall gather myself into myself again, I shall take my scattered selves and make them one, I shall fuse them into a polished crystal ball Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun. I shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent, The Solitary Let them think I love them more than I do, It is one to me that they come or go If I have myself and the drive of my will, And strength to climb on a summer night And watch the stars swarm over the hill. My heart has grown rich with the passing of years, To share myself with every comer, Or shape my thoughts into words with my tongue. Ezra Pound Ezra (Loomis) Pound was born at Hailey, Idaho, October 30, 1885; attended Hamilton College and the University of Penn sylvania and went abroad, seeking fresh material to complete a thesis on Lope de Vega, in 1908. It was in Venice that Pound's first book, A Lume Spento (1908), was printed. The following year Pound went to London and the chief poems of the little volume were incorporated in Persona (1909), a small collection containing some of Pound's finest work. Although the young American was a total stranger to the English literary world, his book made a definite impression on critics of all shades. Edward Thomas, the English poet and one of the most careful appraisers, wrote "the beauty of it is the beauty of passion, sincerity and intensity, not of beautiful words and suggestions. . The thought dominates the words and is greater than they are." Exultations (1909) was printed in the autumn of the same year that saw the appearance of Persona. Too often in his later work, Pound seems to be more the archaeologist than the artist, digging with little energy and less enthusiasm. Canzoni (1911) and Ripostes (1912) both contain much that is sharp and living; they also contain the germs of desiccation and decay. Pound began to scatter his talents; to start movements which he quickly discarded for new ones; to spend himself in poetic propaganda for the Imagists and others (see Preface); to give more and more time to translation. Too special to achieve permanence, too intellectual to become popular, Pound's contribution to his age should not be underestimated. He was a pioneer in the new forms; under his leadership, the Imagists became not only a group but a protest; he helped to make many of the paths which a score of unconsciously influenced poets tread to-day with more ease but far less grace. A VIRGINAL No, no! Go from me. I have left her lately. |