SUNDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1921 THE MICHIGAN DAILY MAGAZINE 3
The Poetry of Nature
Editor's Note: The following is shake down the decay, weakness, and snatches of natural beauty, and on the highest of the hierarchic spirits that
composed of excerpts of an article decreptitude of time? whole, such a deadness to the vital guide and rule creation. She is stand-
sent to us from Detroit by a writer Where are such poems? They have spirit of nature that criticism can ing and should be a resistless invita-
with whom no one here seems to never been written. They have never hardly think or dream on the subject. tion to the poetic genius of the world.
be acquainted. His opinions are been conceived. The plain truth of Common criticism is a blockhead and Nature is awaiting with a fullness of
not necessarily ours, but still he the matter is that there has never cannot see the larger and nobler views life for each of a score of differently
has something to say, and we re- been a real nature poetry or a great of nature even when it is hit on the dowered poets. She stands with an
gret the we have not space for nature poet. The facts ought to come head with Thor's hammer. invitation to all to consecrate their
the entire article. like a sledge hammer and strike the There are still some thinkers and gifts to her, with a promise, that if
- unwelcome truth into us. dreamers in the world. There is still they do, she will compensate them with
(By David Clark Nimmo) There is such a bluntness to na- hungry desire for the unattainable i the fullness of life, feed them with her
When we turn from the poets of tore's suggestion and invitation, such beauty, music, and life. The large and own simplicity and greatness, robe
nature and look at the poetry of nature a conceit and pride over our small great and wise, the conceiving, imag- them in her softer beauty, or perhaps,
we are confronted with the surprising- attainments and performances, such inative and musical spirit goes out in- blinding splendor, and finally gather
ly small product of really first-class a pompious emphasis on our small to nature and beholds her as one of the them to rest in her own enternal heart.
matter of this character. It would
naturally be supposed that great and
noble volumes exist setting forth the
beauties, virtues, inspirations, and
philosophies of nature's being. They
do not exist. Such books ought to
have been written but have never been
produced. The whole English race, in
five hundred years of literary history,
has not produced one such book of
nature's poetry with lasting appeal
and power over the greater spirits of
humanity. It is not generally known
how little first-order poetry of this
character exists till a search is made
for it, and then it is discovered that
nature as subject matter and inspira-
tion for poets is almost untouched
ground.
Great nature in her various forms, P lay
or in the gathered unity of all her
elements, has never found a high
priest or prophet who could present
her as great and glorious to humanity.
Every spring there is a resurrection G
that clothes nature more devine than
ever before, and every creation pantsSr
with the fullness of passion and in-
finite greed. Where are the poems,
hundreds of lines long, panting with M and ol n
this resurrection life, bursting with
energy and vitality and literally over-
flowing with recreating virtues? WVVITH a Gibson Mandolin around you'll never
Every summer there is an opening
of nature's heart and a flowing forth get the "blues." Most cases of the "blues" are the
of the boundless generosity of life result of a lack of musical entertainment. Here is a
that feeds and sustains the creatures
of earth. Where are the poems on sure remedy for the bluest "blues" that ever were
summer that are clad in the softness
and gladness of sushine, poems in known.
which we can bask, and grow, and
ripen in fellowship with this glorious And remember - the name "Gibson" on a mandolin
spirit?
Every autumn there is a magnifi- means the same thing as does the name "STERLING"
cence and majesty of splendor riding on silver. Prices are reasonable in comparison to qual-
upon the heavens and earth, pagean-
tries that mock the pride of mortals. ity, and our stock is very complete.
Where are the poems that translate
this pageantry into language?
Every winner there is a polar virility
of strength that shakes humanity out
of its voluptuous weakness and brings
it up to a naked invigorating masculin-
ity. Where are the poems that have
such a wintry age upon them that we
are chilled with the presence of death, n ea sr' s
or rise up in a snowy immortality and
Mrs. M. PA. %ant
'Miss Ingm n's Last Book
October will see the publication of Bl-_6 Q East wlitam 0t-
the last novel by Eleanor M. Ingram,
whose sudden death in March, is
mourned by a host of readers, who
found in her gay and sparkling stor-
ies a quality of life, color, and move-
ment, not usually found in modern
fiction. Her new story, "The Thing
From The Lake, is significant in its
departure from her usual style, and
has been aptly termed by a critic "a
tale from the borderland of dread."
A