Where are the strong arms in which I, too, might lay me and repose,

and yet be full of the fire of life? And always through the twilight
come answers from the other world, `Master! Master! there is one -- Christ --

in His arms we rest!'"*3* Perhaps, however, Lanier's notion of God,
whom he declared*4* all his roads reached, is most clearly expressed

in a scrap quoted by Ward, apparently the outline for a poem:
"I fled in tears from the men's ungodly quarrel about God.

I fled in tears to the woods, and laid me down on the earth.
Then somewhat like the beating of many hearts came up to me out of the ground;

and I looked and my cheek lay close to a violet. Then my heart took courage,
and I said: `I know that thou art the word of my God, dear Violet.

And oh, the ladder is not long that to my heaven leads.
Measure what space a violet stands above the ground. 'Tis no further climbing

that my soul and angels have to do than that.'"*5* In this high spirituality
Lanier is in line with the greatest poets of our race, from

"Caedmon, in the morn
A-calling angels with the cow-herd's call

That late brought up the cattle,"*6*
to him

"Who never turned his back, but marched breast forward,
Never doubted clouds would break,

Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph,
Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better,

Sleep to wake."*7*
--

*1* 1 John 4:16.
*2* `The Crystal', ll. 100-111.

*3* Hayne's `A Poet's Letters to a Friend'.
*4* In `A Florida Sunday', l. 85.

*5* Ward's `Memorial', p. xxxix.
*6* Lanier's `The Crystal', ll. 90-93.

*7* Browning's `Asolando': Epilogue, ll. 11-15.
--

Perhaps I may append here a paragraph upon Lanier's criticisms
of other writers, for they seem to me acute in the extreme.

Despite the elaborate essays in defence of Whitman's poetry
by Dowden,*1* Symonds,*2* and Whitman himself, I believe Lanier is right

in declaring that "Whitman is poetry's butcher. Huge raw collops
slashed from the rump of poetry and never mind gristle --

is what Whitman feeds our souls with. As near as I can make it out,
Whitman's argument seems to be, that, because a prairie is wide,

therefore debauchery is admirable, and because the Mississippi is long,
therefore every American is God."*3* Notice, again, how well

the defect of `Paradise Lost' is pointed out:
"And I forgive

Thee, Milton, those thy comic-dreadful wars
Where, armed with gross and inconclusive steel,

Immortals smite immortals mortalwise
And fill all heaven with folly."*4*

Few better things have been said of Langland than this, --
"That with but a touch

Of art hadst sung Piers Plowman to the top
Of English songs, whereof 'tis dearest, now

And most adorable;"*5*
or of Emerson than this, --

"Most wise, that yet, in finding Wisdom, lost
Thy Self, sometimes;"*6*

or of Tennyson than this, --
"Largest voice

Since Milton, yet some register of wit
Wanting."*7*

`The Crystal' abounds in such happy characterizations.
--

*1* See Dowden's `Studies in Literature', pp. 468-523.
*2* See Symonds's `Walt Whitman: A Study'. London, 1893.

*3* Ward's `Memorial', p. xxxviii.
*4* `The Crystal', ll. 66-70.

*5* Ibid., ll. 87-90.
*6* Ibid., ll. 93-94.

*7* Ibid., ll. 95-97.
--

IV. Lanier's Poetry: Its Style
So much for the poet's thoughts; what shall we say of their expression?

In other words, is Lanier the literary artist equal to Lanier the seer?
In order the better to answer this question, let us begin at the beginning,

with the elements of style, some of which, however, I pass by
as not calling for special comment.

Of Lanier's felicitous choice of words we have already had
incidental illustration; but it is desirable, perhaps, to group here

a few of his happiest phrases, to show that, as Lowell*1* said,
he is "a man of genius with a rare gift for the happy word."

Notice this speech about the brook:
"And down the hollow from a ferny nook

`Lull' sings a little brook!"*2*
and this of the well-bucket:

"The rattling bucket plumps
Souse down the well;"*3*

and this of the outburst of a bird:
"Dumb woods, have ye uttered a bird?"*4*

and the description of a mocking-bird as
"Yon trim Shakspere on the tree;"*5*

and of midnight as
"Death's and truth's unlocking time."*6*

Moreover, it should be observed that Lanier frequently uses
significant compounds, -- a habit acquired, no doubt,

from his study of Old English, in which, as in German, such compounds abound.
--

*1* See `Lowell' in `Bibliography'.
*2* `From the Flats', ll. 23-24; cited by Gates. [Line 24 was changed

(to "Bright leaps a living brook!") in later editions. -- A. L., 1998.]
*3* `Clover', ll. 29-30.

*4* `Sunrise', l. 57; cited by Gates.
*5* `The Mocking-Bird', l. 14.

*6* `The Crystal', l. 1. Other illustrations may be found in the paragraph
on figures of speech.

--
While in the main Lanier's sentence-construction is good,

occasionally" target="_blank" title="ad.偶然地；非经常地">occasionally his sentences are too long, as in `My Springs',
`To Bayard Taylor', and `Sunrise', in which we have sentences

longer than the opening one in `Paradise Lost', and, what is of more moment,
not so well balanced, and hence affording fewer breathing spaces.

That this detracts from clearness and euphony both, every reader will admit.
To come to the figures of speech, one must be struck at once

with the delicacy and the vigor of Lanier's imagination. The poet's fancy
personifies what at first blush seems to us incapable of personification.

Thus at one time*1* he likens men to clover-leaves and the Course-of-things
to the browsing ox, which makes way with the clover-heads;

while at another he addresses an old red hill of Georgia as
"Thou gashed and hairy Lear

Whom the divine Cordelia of the year,
E'en pitying Spring, will vainlystrive to cheer."*2*

Like other Southern poets,*3* Lanier sometimes fails to check his imagination,
and in consequence leaves his readers "bramble-tangled in a brilliant maze,"

as in his description of the stars in `June Dreams'*4*
and in the `Psalm of the West'.*5* While I do not like a maze,

brilliant though it be and sweet, I must say that I prefer
the embarrassment of riches to the embarrassment of poverty. On the whole,

however, Lanier's figures strike me as singularly fresh and happy.
In `Sunrise', for example, the poet speaks of the marsh as follows: