Salt Lake Tribune | 1913-12-21 | Page 41 | A Poem That Offended a Poet

TAll A Poem That Offended a Poet OHjji WpHB poetry editor of one of tho !S-4B Hi ew Yorlt 'publications re-Bp re-Bp cently selected one of Andrew Vli K88 poemB' "The Odyssey," to de-yJ3 de-yJ3 Wt hia readers. But Mr. W. J. $5"K5pin' who 18 himself a poet, W'Wfl'WtA editor's poetry column and something to nay. This particu-I particu-I stanza especially attracted Mr. ,R0nMhat for a weary space has ' Vliemealtllat csean Isleforgeta the 'ifld only tho low lutes of love Otf K comJlahi, 'CrJ p only shadows of wan lovers pine, """" ' Rth aa ne Were glad lnoW i wonhlQ Hps, and the large air sri IiKi 5oetrT uot read this to mo In fktM' IX 0UB tones, writes Mr. Lampton, HPfs,l BP ylth bated breath, and when I MM) ' m wuat tQe dlckens jt meant he said he didn't know; that it just swept him on. When I asked him what the "pale of Proserpine" was, and how far from the gardens of Circe it was located, and where were the gardens of Circe, he was stumped. Then I wanted to know how an island could forget the main, oeeing that everybody in thiB country coun-try remembers tho Maine which is no joke and why the low lutes of love should complain, in view of the fact that Circe wasn't a married lady and Proserpine didn't want to be: and how the shadows of wan lover, or any other kind, could pine; and why one ehould be especially glad to know that brine waB salt on his lips, when brine never Is any-thing any-thing else but aalt except possibly In unuBually saccharine verse to all of my insistent queries he failed to reply, and gloried in hia failure. When I asked him at last about the large air," he merely threw bis arms around like windmills and ' made no anBwer. Next I aeked him why "lToserpine" ahould be mado to rhyme with "wino" hft said it was mere.lv a matter of pronunciation, and had nothing to do with the poetic feeling. I admitted the matter of pronunciation, pronuncia-tion, but argued'that as authorities, as well aB poetB,i differed on that, and as poetry was sublimated euphony, eu-phony, why make a trisyllabic word of it and get a cacophonous result that was, harsh to the ear. "Wine" to rhymo with "Proserpine!" Might I not as fitly have written: To thee alone, LoBt PerBephone. Of course, I might, for Persephono is the original Greek of it, and a poet who would make a rhymo like that ought to have his feet sawed off. The Latin of it is Proserpina, and It doesn't rhyme with hyena, either. He sat before mo wagging his head and crooning the lines of Lang to himself ecstatically. But I kept right ahead, putting the plain facts up to him. Following Mr. Lang's pronunciation he's dead and it isn't hia fault that he Isn't here to defend himaelf I handed out this classic bit: I might adore t vir Tnjsichore. Did l not nope That Penelope Would be my fate; Unless Hecate Or something worse That she-cat Circe Got in her curse And fired my shades Plumb down to Hades. But to proceed. Among the last six llneG of Mr. Lang's, not mine I find these three: So gladly from the songs of modern speech, Men turn and see the stars and feel the free Shrill wind beyond the close of heavy flowers. "Which gets my goat," as tho Satyr said to tho Dryad. Nothing short of a search warrant or a magazine editor edi-tor could get tho meaning of that, in my judgment. What Is a shrill wind 'beyond tho close of heavy flowers? What shrills tho wind and closes the heavy flowers? I am Inclined to think the late Andrew, who was something else besIdeB a poot, was passing out a puzzle to the posterity row.