 | Fantasy and Passion |  |
117
CRITICISM.
“Crude, pompous, turgid,” the reviewers said.
“ Sham passion and sham power to turn one sick!
Pin-wheels of verse that sputtered as we read—
Rockets of rhyme that showed the falling stick.”
“ Sham passion and sham power to turn one sick!
Pin-wheels of verse that sputtered as we read—
Rockets of rhyme that showed the falling stick.”
A would-be murderer cannot always kill;
Some missiles leave some shields without a dint.
That book was loved, against the critics' will,
By those who do not put their love in print.
Some missiles leave some shields without a dint.
That book was loved, against the critics' will,
By those who do not put their love in print.
But while, assaulted of this buzzing band,
The poet quivered at their little stings,
White doves of sympathy o'er all the land
Went flying with his fame beneath their wings!
The poet quivered at their little stings,
White doves of sympathy o'er all the land
Went flying with his fame beneath their wings!
And every fresh year brought him love that cheers,
As Caspian waves bring amber to their shore;
And it befell that after many years,
Being now no longer young, he wrote once more.
As Caspian waves bring amber to their shore;
And it befell that after many years,
Being now no longer young, he wrote once more.
“Cold, classic, polished,” the reviewers said.
“A book you scarce can love, howe'er you praise.
We missed the old careless grandeur as we read—
The power and passion of his younger days!”
“A book you scarce can love, howe'er you praise.
We missed the old careless grandeur as we read—
The power and passion of his younger days!”
| Fantasy and Passion | |