The Sonnet: To-Day--And Yesterday

The Sonnet: To-Day--And Yesterday

The Sonnet: To-Day--And Yesterday

The Sonnet: To-Day--And Yesterday

Excerpt

I had occasion, recently, to make a survey of contemporary sonnet literature, for selective purposes. In serving those purposes, I sought, first, for good poetry, and allowed good sonnets to take care of themselves. I believe that the most authentic and enduring poetry is the passion and dream and memory of life, become articulate upon the lips of the finer spirits; it is the joy and grief and wonder, the adoration and pity and terror which dwell always at the heart of life, risen to a filled intensity, and trembling half-unconsciously into speech. It is a young girl singing softly to herself; it is an old man beginning to remember by the fire; the lover speaking to a beloved image and to no other, in the stillness of his own heart. These are the voices that we hear in poetry. They are . . .

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