New Voices: An Introduction to Contemporary Poetry

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Macmillan, 1919 - American poetry - 454 pages
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This is a fascinating glimpse into poetry's past at the turn of the twentieth century. The manner in which Wilkinson questions, critiques, and reviews poetry is passionate, honest, and interesting for the poet wanting an understanding of how past poetry was viewed by peers in its prime. Many acclaimed poets are quoted, reviewed, and judged. The book provides great insight into the poetic sensibilities of the period. On a personal note, I found this book to be funny, well-written and full of rich language. This is a book worth any poet's time to read! 

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Page 83 - Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them; 2.
Page 236 - How will you ever straighten up this shape; Touch it again with immortality; Give back the upward looking and the light; Rebuild in it the music and the dream ; Make right the immemorial infamies, Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?
Page 110 - ... white and blue and brown! I could be busy all the day Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor, And fixing on their shelf again My white and blue and speckled store! I could be quiet there at night Beside the fire and by myself, Sure of a bed and loth to leave The ticking clock and the shining delph!
Page 105 - The color of the ground was in him, the red earth ; The smack and tang of elemental things...
Page 83 - Also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way, and the almond-tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail ; because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets...
Page 365 - Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him: He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean favored, and imperially slim. And he was always quietly arrayed, And he was always human when he talked; But still he fluttered pulses when he said, "Good morning...
Page 63 - Oh, just another kind of out-door game, One on a side. It comes to little more: There where it is we do not need the wall: He is all pine and I am apple orchard. My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors.
Page 108 - SLOWLY, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon ; This way, and that, she peers, and sees Silver fruit upon silver trees...
Page 106 - The tolerance and equity of light That gives as freely to the shrinking flower As to the great oak flaring to the wind — To the grave's low hill as to the Matterhorn That shoulders out the sky.
Page 310 - I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree...

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