Wl L uAM R Shaw nee 1 927 P ATT was born in , Oklahoma, in , and educated in public schoo ls and at the U nivers ity of Okla '

En lish in 1949 . homa , where he took a Bachelor s degree in g Pursuin u u g grad ate st dies at Vanderbilt University , he was M E li W A . n sh 1 5 1 i awarded an in g in 9 , with a thesis on ill am

u PhD . 1 95 7 r Fa lkner, and a in , with a dissertation on Hen y

- u . S . i . 195 1 5 2 James , Ezra Po nd , and T El ot In he attended s S R u the University of Gla gow , cotland , as a otary Fo ndation S 1 u i Fellow . ince 95 7 he has been an instr ctor in Engl sh at M iami University in Oxford , Ohio , and is now an associate u professor and Director of Freshman English . He lect res on m u u k modern poetry and A erican literat re, cond cts a wee ly u v series of ed cational tele ision programs , and also translates r u 1 6 Tbe modern poet y from other lang ages . In 9 3 he edited Imagirt Poem : Modem Poetry in Miniature for The Butto n

Paperbacks series . MO DER N

SO U TH ER N P O E T R Y IN

P ER S P EC T I VE

1196 fugfim’ poet;

D D E ITE ,

AN D W A N R D C BY ITH INT O U TI O N , V W ILL IAM P R AT T

A Dalton mPapn bccl

W R D T T & . E P . U O N C O N Y O K : E . I N C 1 9 6 5 W m . All re Copyright 196 5 by illia C. Pratt rights ma in U .S .A. No served . Printed the part of this book y m be reproduced in any form whatsoever without per ission m u c b in writing fro the p blishers, ex ept y a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review t for n u m r writ en i cl sion in a agazine, newspape or broad

a s E . t. First dition

Arl no wledgments Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following for permission to quote from copyright ma terial JOH N O towa Ran som: All poems listed here are re m elected oems R d b printed fro S P , evised E ition, y John Be C w R m b m A A. o Inc. lls ro e anso y per ission of lfred Kn pf , " " h W ’ D u Old M c for Jo n hiteside s a ghter, ansion , Ne ro “ " Ca Ca m C n logical , ptain rpenter, Philo ela, and o rad " — Co 192 4 A A. n Inc ; in Twilight pyright, , by lfred K opf, " D 1952 b h C R m. copyright renewed , , y Jo n rowe anso ead " " " " Bo V B u m B u y , The anity of the l e Girls ( for erly l e " " " W c Am u Girls ) , Janet aking, Piazza Pie e, phibio s “ " " C oco u i i A u r dile, The Eq il br sts, and ntiq e Harvesters C 1 2 l o te 7 A A nc. c 9 . opyright, , by lfred Knopf, ; pyright “ 1 R m i 95 5 C o . newed, , by John r we anso Pa nted Head

C 1934 A A. Inc c re opyright, , by lfred Knopf, opyright we 1 2 b m V 96 C R o . ne d, , y John rowe ans The anity of " th e Bright Youn g Men (new version of poem once called " ' ” Tom Tom the e —C o 196 3 , Pip r s Son ) pyright, , by h C R m Jo n rowe anso . TAN L EY H S : A on the ow S JO N ON S net of Yell Leaf, and r R n t nt bo To a Pa k Swan . epri ted from Fugi ives : An A logy o Vers e Yo rlr c u B and Co m 1 2 8 / , New , Har o rt, race pany, 9 , m Ru n by per ission of by Joh son. " D ALD DAVIDS : U c for m ON ON tteran e, Lines a To b, " " M u S u A omat Lee in the o ntains, eq el of pp " ” tox U On R c the , Twilight on nion Street, a ep li a of ” " " “ " n R M Son u R Parthe on, andall , y , and Sanct ary . eprinted from Lee in tbe Mountai ns by Donald Davidson by per m n Of u . C 1938 b D D issio the a thor opyright, , y onald avid “ ” " son . Hermitage and Lines Written for Allen Tate on h A n His Sixtiet n iversary reprinted from Toe Lo ng Street b D y onald Davidson by permission of Vanderbilt Un iversity

. Co 1 6 1 D Da 9 d . Press pyright, , by onald vi son " At z Ba c ocsc STE VE NSON : He Who Loved Beauty re p d om u itives : An Antbo lo 0 Vers e rinte fr F g gy ] , New York,

4 / Copyrig/st and Ackn owledgments " " and»: Sonnet Death printed in thi s anthology pum ion of the auttm " “ ” The M i o u. rm ; De B A ath of Little oys. ed ter

’ ha l i ne o o Allen Tate by permiss ion of C r es Scrb r s S os . C py " mnis i 1932 b Al . O r ght, , y len Tate Non

" Mu m s. M n : inna m TI» u it ive oo C e reprinted fro F g . " " " M Th e ru 1924 . i m Feb ary, The No se That Ti e akes and

Verse c u B c C m 1928. , New York. Har o rt, ra e and o pany, " " i r u : Th e Its R u e m Six Sides L te at re God, it al reprint d fro - to a Ah e b Merrill M r o Harcour Baace y oo e, New Y rk. g d Ca n Al an an 19 56 . l u m e b a m s p y , fo r poe s reprint d y p i i Ann a Mo s on of L lie ore. " ” “ " m Wm : e C The W J To a Tir d lerk and atchers. by Jo se Wills by peflnis ion d the autho r and VaMa bilt

U i r Pm . Co r 1 5 b V rbi t Uni. n ve sity py m 9 9. y ande l

" “ Roe! " Pum Wan ner: ac C owd To a F e in a r ,

“ " " S r Put k B l to y, m . The allad of Bi lie Pm and ’ ” Ba rded Oaks . Reprinted from Selected Poem of Ro w Pen Warren 1923 -1 943 c u t Bruc and , , New York, Har o r , e Ca n an 1944 b e missi ut C p y, , y p r on of the a hor . opyright. “ b R b r n W m . t One Yw y o e t Pe n ar To a Lit le Girl , ” Old Rui orum om o i . in a ned F reprinted fr Pr m ses . Pom 1 95 44 95 6 by Robert Pa m Warren by permis sios'rdf Randm Co i 195 5 Raba t Pm W pyr ght, 0, , h arm

o i C pyr ght end Ackn owledgments 5

to FUGITIVES wherever they have

THE m ar Issue of Tbe Fugitive magazine appeared in Nash vill nne e 1 22 and t e, Te ss e, in 9 , wi h it the major period of S was modern outhern l iterature began . It a modest beginning for a school of poets and critics that has sinoe led the way in rt v l o t n many of the impo ant de e opments in p e ry, fictio , and

That the have don e so is now am l dommented in artid es y p y , oo of i i i v e t b ks cr t c sm, and olum s of li erary history , but no comprehensi ve co llect ion of Fugitive poetry has been published since 1 28 . v e 9 The need for such a olume has been gr at, for the ma or worlrs of most of the oets were either written or j p , v d after sur risin that mudr re ise the first antholo . It is not , gy p g many readers have tended to confuse the Fugitiv es with the A rarians or with the New Critics two later sd iools which g , , di hd ed u ve r have re ey p to found . But the F giti s we e, and m ined oets an d the aim of the resent volume is to ofler , p , p a enerous selection of their oems some old an d some new g p , , to ether with an aocoun t of their histor as a literar a g y y school, v and of their further accomplishments as indi idual poets. B now man Fu itive oerns are classics and ma others y , y g p , ny - ‘ dueswre tc he To see theI-ugitives in perspective is to v iew a b oem e v an d c ody of p s impr ssi e in number s ope , worthy of a a t r th and in nation It is gre t period of li e ature in the Sou the . Fah o to take stock of a corporate ad tievemen t that rivals an y i t American literary history . Th s an hology offers proof that i ve t i e an d a end Fugiti s s ll belong tog ther, it marks, not n , but a new beginn ing for the most durable sd iool in modem

— Introduction : In Pursuit of toe Fugiti ves 1 3

' JOHN Cl own RANso u: Bells for John Whiteside s Daughter - — 49/ Dead Boyd 50/ The Vanity of the Blue Girls — 50/ The Vanity Of the Bright Young Men 5 1/ Conrad — — — in Twilight 53/ Necrological 5 4/ Janet Waking 5 5/ — — — Pian a Piece 56/ Old Mansion 57/ Philomela 58/ — — Amphibious Crooodile 60/ Captain Carpenter 6 3/ The — — Equilibrists 6 5/ Painted Head 67/ Antique Harvesters

— STAN unrJOHNSO N : A Sonnet of the Yellow Leaf 7 1/ To a Park Swan—72 — — DONALDDAVIDSON : Utt erance 73/ Lines for a Tomb 71V M 1865 -1870—74 S u A omat Lee in the ountains, / eq el of pp — — tox 78/ Twi light on Union Street 79/ On a Replia of the Parthenon—BO R l M Son—S l S a — —/ andal , y / anctu ry 8 2/ Hermitage 84 / Lines Written for Allen Tate on — His Sin ieth Anni versary 8 7 — Aw e Baocx STEVENSON : He Who Loved Beauty 89/ Son — ALe N TATE : Non Omn is Moriar 9 1/ Death Of Little Boys — -9 1/ The Med iterranean 9” Aeneas at Washingt on 4 — Mr e —8 9 / Ode to the Confederate Dead 95/ . Pop 9 / — Last Days of ABM / Seasons of the Soul 101/ The Swimmers—108 — Ma nta . Moo ns : 1 12 me — Cumae / —The Noise That Ti s Makes 1 1 3] Tbe Boolr of How 1 1 3/ Literature z The God 1ts R u l—1 14 , it a

Contents [ 1 1 — — JESSE WIL LS : To a Tired Clerk 1 1 5/ The Watchers l 16 — RO BERT PENN WARR EN : To a Face in a Crowd 1 1 7/ — Aubade for Hope—l l S/ Crime l l 9/ — Short Story— I Z O/ Pursuit I Z Z / Ballad of Billie — — Potts 1 24/ Bearded Oaks 14 V To a — e Rui Fortressr Mz Y ar Old , in a ned A Selected Bibliography— 1 5 3 In Pursuit of the Fugitives

I have mn further matdtin our heat and s eed , g y p , And tn cked the War Fu itive with y g you . " " H ro e Ran o m JO N C w s , Ego (from the first issue of Tbc Fugitive)

v R R I. Tun Fucm es as A LITE A Y SCHOO L

u ive: A. The F git and the Imagists

Mo o n »: u t umn : P O R u v i A ET Y abo nds in indi idual sm, but at least two groups of poets have profoun dly affected its " " t t a mermelv course. The firs of hese c lled es Imagists ; the ' " v secon d called themsel es Fugitives . The Imagists gathered in on on tn the r 1 10- 1 1 5 in L d , pe iod from 9 9 , and beginning 1912 li h i oe oetr a Tbc , pub s ed the r p ms in P y mag zine and li ttle Re vi w in i a The E oirt e Ch c go, and in g in London. The v vil e o Fugiti es began gathering in Nash le, Tenn ssee, ab ut 1 15 and a n m l e Tbc 9 , g i ed their fa e from a magazine ca l d itiv i e is u ea Fug e, wh ch they edit d and publ hed d ring the y rs 1 22- 1 2 i v iv 9 9 5 . The Imag sts may ha e shown greater initiat e in t m v b t u v ge ting the odern mo ement under way. uthe F giti es it is an open question which of the groups has played a more ' unpom nt tole in the tlu poetic sty le lt we Mar n ie ys of us ins dren ch rly the lmagists have dominated fo a gliah poetic diction and mythm have been noticeably altered by their em phasis on inn gery and free verse; but if we judge atyle as

' In Pum nt of toe Fugitive: [13 rbararter , meaning moral and intellectual qualifies embodied u in words , then it is the F gitives who have played the decisiv e u t A role, for no other gro p o merican poets in this century has u u u u combined so m ch s btlety with so m ch certit de . c. u but The two gro ps may best be seen as essential , comple r menta y forces . The relation between them is in a sense a his torical u u s ccession , with the Imagists flo rishing first , in the e u r u W War u v d cade s r o nding the First orld , and the F giti es r But coming afterwa d , in the decade of the Twenties . in the v v long iew , it is as if one mo ement was bound to have its u t co nterpart in the o her . The lmagists were above all inter u u nationalists , individ alists , and experimentalists ; the F gitives

i . Be were above all regionalists , traditionalists , and classic sts u tween them, they embodied all the infl ences at work in the R ur u American Literary enaissance of this cent y , and incl ded many of the major poets that have come to prominence in the u W past half cent ry . hat can be seen most clearly , in comparing u the Imagists with the F gitives , is that the vigor of literary ex pression in the modern period has come from a creative “ " opposition between what might be called the Roman tic imagination and what might be called the "Classical " imagina

. ur t tion Neither imagination existed in its p e state, for here was much in the Imagists that was Classical ( the poems of '

D. . ou H , and some of P nd s , read almost like translations u u R from Greek) , and m ch in the F gitives that was omantic ' " " (the shade of Keats s Ode to a Nightingale lurks behind R ' " i such an apparently classical poem as ansom s Ph lomela, ’ " " and Warren s Ballad of Billie Potts is one of the finest long poems in free verse that has been writt en in the modern But d u i period ) . the Imagist stress on freedom neede the F g v u r ti e stress on form as a co nte balance , and the attack on tradition implied in the Imagist experiments needed to be corrected by the respect for tradition implied in much Fugiti ve practice . Perhaps the one person who could see this action and re u action at the time was John Go ld Fletcher, the sole poet who t i u an par ic pated in both gro ps . Being at once expatriate and a

14/ In Pursuit of the Fugitives So Fletcher became a leadin member of the Ima ists utherner. g g in their later phase w hen Amy Lowell was malting them into “ " M W and a few years afterward he joined the distin uisbed a rman n Tb: u iti v i g p y of outside co tributors to F g e, wh ch

n l e R ert ve t t . i c ud d ob Gra s and Har Crane, among o hers In 192 7 o t t Tbc u itiv a i had a e i , sh r ly af er F g e mag z ne c s d publ ca " tiom metdier wrote a sho rt essay on the Two Blemen ts in ” " " Poetry. His position was that the free v erse school of lrna ists under Ezra Pound had run its course and that a new g , “ " a s i a Cl s c l school had been formed in the Twenties, under the

eneral leadershi of T. S . Eliot but bcst re resented as a g p , p ol v scho by the Southern Fugiti es . This new school was more o is i a i : s ph t c ted than the magists. he said, for

It takes the innov ations of form of the free-verse school more or less for gran ted ; what it quarrels with is funda a i u i ment lly the r attit de toward art . It begins by challeng ng the importance of emotion in poetry ; it asserts that intellect and not emotion is the true bas is of poet ic art ; an d it pro pos es a return to class icism as the only possible remedy for the common looseness and facil ity of much present- day

In his brief mrve of the two schools Fletd1er wen t so far as y , to suggest that the difference betw een them was ultimately e i l for most of the lma ists were from th e North and r g ona , g We o u l whfle st, with Chicag as the center of p b ication , the new Classicists were mostly fmm the East and Soudu with

v ll nn e u l ce . did Nash i e, Te ess e, as the p b ishing nter He not say ” what the d oae reh fi on betwem Elioe the Easterner from " " St i We r i . Lou s. and Pound , the sterne from Philadelph a, meant to American —d ais was an anomal that could poetry — y not be accounted for 10 terms of region but he did maintain “ with good reason that The main impulse tn the early develop ment of this school of intellectual poetry in America was the publication for a few years shortly after the war of the mega

‘ - Set uedc M e nuo iterat ure IV Au . 27 63 66. y f L , ( g ,

In Purtuit of tbe Fugitive: / 1 3 i c l Tbe u itiv u z ne a led F g e, by a small gro p centering about

s v l . Na h il e, Tennessee The Fugitives were by that time near the end of their close u u i and prod ctive association , which had beg n nformally as e 19 1 5 u i arly as , and which was to end formally with the p bl 1 928 cation in of their only collection of poems , entitled Fu itiver: An Antholo o V rt e u out g gy f e , bro ght in New York

u B . A u i u v by Harco rt , race ltho gh it was the last offic al F giti e but publication , it did not mark the end the beginning of a u v u disting ished literary career for se eral of the F gitives . Like the u u the Imagists , F gitives disbanded too early to prod ce a ul v u r v u f ly representative ol me of their poet y , yet the al e of their indiv idual achievements can best be seen in the perspec v v u t ti e of their achie ement as a gro p . It may hen be recognized " " u r v that, while the Imagists were tr ly a litera y mo ement v u u v un original , exciting, re ol tionary in imp lse , ali e with the — expressed possibilities of the present the Fugiti ves have been " " u — i tr ly a literary school disciplined , deliberate, consc ous of S w an immense indebtedness to the past . omewhere bet een the " " " u h poles of the Imagist movement and the F gitive sc ool ,

the best American poetry of the past fifty years has been written .

u iv S B . A History of the F git e chool

W u u Tbe u itiv LOUISE CO AN begins her a thoritative acco nt, F g e 2 " G rou : A ite a H irtor : u p L r ry y, with this definition The F gi tives u v were a q ite tangible body of sixteen poets who, ha ing u u l 191 5 1928 no partic lar program , met freq ent y from to for u the p rpose of reading and discussing their own work . Of th e 3 t i i sixteen poets she names , only six have had any h ng l ke

B R u : o u U 1 59 . aton o ge L isiana State niversity Press, 9 ‘ : C R m Al R ert W They are j ohn rowe anso , len Tate, ob Penn arren, D l D M M u R n W C Cu ona d avidson, errill oore, La ra idi g , alter lyde rry, e W A c B M ro Hi . n, y tt n rsd t, S l y J sse ills , le Stevenso Sidne tan e Johnson, W m W m R W ll me illia Yandell Elliott, illia Frierson, idley i s, Ja s Frank, A and lfred Starr .

1 6/ In Purruit of tbe Fugitives

—it poetry is one of the best ways was the way , incidentally, - u of the thirteenth cent ry Italian poets , of the symbolists in

- France , and of certain late nineteenth century Englis h and

Irish poets . It is the way of friendship and discussion ; it is the u way of the amate r society .

The history of the Fugitives is a history of how friendship u u flowered into art , and it is of partic lar interest in a co ntry ' that has alw ays prided itself on the Horatio Alger story of

u - - u . ( lo e sing lar , self reliant s ccess operation , inst ad of competi i ul i u i v l t on , wo d seem to be the secret beh nd F g ti e accomp ish ment.

“ - 1 . rm: rucm vrzs : RM L P 1 1 5 1 2 1 INFO A HASE , 9 9

IN i u C A recent rem niscence on the F gitive period , John rowe Ransom gave his own account of how the group transformed themselves from cas ual friends into serious poets

" W e began to gather for conversation at th e house of S i u idney Hirsch . The conversat ons became more freq ent ul and finally they became reg ar on the calendar , and after ' l u out : W we ta ked o rselves , we said ell , the next thing to ’ do is to get some of this written down . And presently, it v began to be written in erse , and pretty soon we were ex v n u changing verses, and that seemed to be a ery at ral u 5 seq ence .

' out Mr R u The only thing left of . ansom s acco nt is the amount o f serious eflort and imagination that went into the " S u D formation of a poetic school in the o th , that esert of the " u M Bea x Arts as H . L . encken called it , where nothing of the r t - u sort had existed befo e . To see how it grew in o self conscio s

‘M Van Do la c ation CX X VI M 14 ark ren, First G n e, N , ( arch ,

295 . 5 " U R u i : An I h h C R m V‘F ' pon et rn ng nterview wit Jo n rowe anso , - derbilt Alumnus Vol 47 M r A 4 5 . , . ( a ch pril ,

18/ In Purs uit of tbe Fugitives this t b w d casual statemen y the adcno ledge leader of the group. One needs the statemen es that have been made by 'other Fugi " tives n t bl l n Tbe u itiv , o a y A le Tate s witty memoir, F g e " 1922- 192 5 : r l Rec e t o t e A Pe sona oll c i n Twen y Y ars After, ' and Do v o e an d e e i nald Da idson s m re r cent sober r coll ct on, ‘ ' T he Ih ankless an d H er tiv P 7 well as Muse Fugi e oetsf ‘as the eom lete h rstor of the rou i wialetters ex p y g p, enr ched ch an ed duri the Fu itive eriod which has been com iled g ng g p , p

so a refull b lo uis e Cowan. From these sources it is ossi y y , p ble to see how a small rou of dedicated men were able to g p — bea k tbrough the tired rhetoric of the genteel tradition the on ly tradition that existed in Southern letters before 1920 and begin buildin g up a powerful critical intelligence that was capable of expres sing itself first in lyric and narrative

It all seems to hav started in a v r oflhand wa . ln 1 1 5 e e y y 9 , a group of young teachers at a smaq uiet southern university became in formall u i te artl throu h y acq a n d with one another, p y g the old-fashioned custom of paying court to young ladies at their homes but chiefl throu h the attractive ersonalit of a , y g p y gifted and eccentric young man who liked to have an audience for h is ea e i e . id s, esp c ally if the aud ience was learn d He had had traveled and almost no formal education to his credit, but e l had i u r ad wide y , and wr tten and prod ced what someone " called the most artistic and ambitious spectacle ever given in " " S —a e R the outh Greek pag ant named The Fire egained, a with a cast large enough for a Hollywood epic. He had al n a a n l t e t, pp re t y , for organizing artistic ventures, and a e t a m v he b gr a er t lent for i pressi e conversation, so that was a le to draw aroun d him a group of unusually intelligent young — men and inspire them to creative activity much as Gertrude

S in did e . In t n te in Paris in the twenti s fac , allowi g for the

‘ The rin ce on Unim s it li brar Cbron icfe III 3 A P t y y , , ( pril , - 7 5 04 . ' So ut bern Writ ers in the Modern World (Athena : University of - i r s 1 0. Georg a P es , 3

In Pursuit 0] tbs Fugiti ves 19 both freewheeling egotists who delighted in giving and receiv

ing flattery , both adept at extracting homage from younger r people mo e gifted and brilliant than themselves . The hospi l S ' ta ity of idney Hirsch s home was always magnanimous,

whether it was provided by his sisters , as at first, or by his o -in - u br ther law , James Frank, as later on ; and the yo ng pro fessors u at Vanderbilt fo nd it irresistible . u 1 9 1 5 u u u i u By the s mmer of , the n cle s of the F git ve gro p u u : R was coming reg larly to his ho se j ohn Crowe ansom, an instruct or of English fresh from a Rhodes Scholarship at D l D R had Oxford ; ona d avidson , who like ansom come from a small Tennessee town but had acquired a thorough training u i l in classical lang ages , and a degree in Engl sh iterature at S Vanderbilt ; tanley j ohnson , who was also teaching English ; W illiam Y. Elliott, who was interested in political and later became a Rhodes Scholar and professor of govern v S ment at Har ard ; Alec Brock tevenson , the son of a Cana dian professor of Hebrew and a student of French as well as W Cu S u C l classics ; and alter Clyde rry, a o th aro inian whose e t u u sp cial y was Cha cer and medieval literature . The disc ssions v were at first ery general , and the early meetings were more

philosophical than literary, the conversations being described " " u simply as Olympian by one of the members of the gro p . r W War u Then Ame ica entered the First orld , and the gro p u 1 9 19 broke p for a time, to reform itself again late in , as the original members drifted back from overseas duty to the u M u Vanderbilt camp s . eanwhile, they had kept p with one t ano her by correspondence, and one of the members had achieved some amount of literary fame with his first book of ' R o m About od u i poems . ansom s P e : G had been p bl shed in

1 1 the u u te' 9 9, while a thor was on d ty in France , and had ceived favorable notice from such discerning men as Robert u u Frost (who had recommended its p blication) , Lo is Unter R R u meyer, and obert Graves . ansom ret rned as something of r a hero to his friends, and from that time on he was the eal

20/ In Pe rmit of tbe Fugitive: leader of the rou thou h 8idne Hirsch retained the g p. g y plaoe f ’ ' o honor n host l hey began to take the writing of poetry and evening at the j im ’ " Frank s S n t , where id ey Hirsch held for h on the symbolical " u ects of et molo a sort of a p y gy , mystic l invented and mernbers be an assin oems u r , g p g p aro nd fo ' c itidm lh e pattem was set from which real poetry oould virtue of Hirsch was that he oould imbue or i i with the power of occult wisdom, ins st ng was a sacred that all lan ua es art, and g g were really one lan guage; while the virtue of Ran som was that he could offer oems of his own for others to criticize an d p , ' could malce exhaustive criticism of their work lh is combinw

tion of learned s eculation on the histor of words and mre p y , ful ra ding of new pouns followed by discussion of the n t weakness of each v u f ri stre g h and indi id al of e ng, was the ro n m at all Fu itiv meetin from that time p g g e gs on. Then in 1 2 1 a new member was admitted and the rou , 9 , , g p w Tate of entuck birth mind as a eeciabl dee ened. Allen K pp y p , y " " and i i e n v n n Virg n a conn ctio s, was in ited while o ly a se ior at Vanderbilt to o in the rou an d thou h he was the first i g p, g student member he uickl became the intellectual adfl who , q y g y ’ w dmission he was strm thern in to action . 1h ou h b his o n a g g y , “ " not ver conscious l a oet at the time he soon became y y p , ne his r i o . and knowledge of modern poet y in Engl sh out stripped afltfie odiem so that before long he was leading all me senior members by the nose in to the in tricacies of modern

so nnets w ith Curr now m who had once traded y , showed his new poa n s to Tatg an d in a short while Tate had helped him disoover the style tlut was to malre him famous a style rtrikingly different from the conven tionality of his first de book and qrfite definitely his owm As Tate himself has acribed the change :

In Pe rmit a] ti n Fugitive: / 2 1 j ohn Ransom always appeared at the Fugitive meetings ' with a poem (some of us didn t) , and when his turn came e u I he r ad it in a dry tone of nderstatement . can only de scribe his manner in those days as irony which was both

brisk and bland . Before we began to think of a magazine John had written a poem which foreshadowed the style for " u " which he has become famo s ; it was Necrological, still one of his best poems ; I marvelled at it because it seemed to me that overnight he had left behind him the style of u u his first book and , witho t conf sion , had mastered a new 8 style .

u u o ute Th s it was Tate, the yo ngest member, who c ntrib d the v the most modern point of iew , and who also provoked most s — R violent disagreement notably with ansom , who made the ' v W t v S . Tbe as e Lan d u mistake of re iewing T. Eliot s nfa or b u a ly, forcing Tate to rise p blicly to its defense . This contro u 1 92 2 l e vetsy occ rred in , a bril iant y ar for poetry , since not ' but only did Eliot s poem appear in New York and London , the first issue of Tbe Fugitive magazine appeared in Nash v ille .

M s 1 2 2—1 2 2 . m a w omv s s : R AL m a 8 FO s , 9 9

EX P E RtME NT u v — i , disc ssion , re ision this was the discipl ne the group had learned by a process of mutual instruction in the years between their coming together and their v enturing into print . By it, and their own considerable talents , they had u But mas tered the techniq e of poetry . skill in wielding words would not have made a poetic school . There had to be a n i creative spark among them to start the fire of i sp ration, and " " u there had to be a sense of the age, an int itive grasp of what most needed to be expressed at this moment of history . S n The creative spark was provided by id ey Hirsch , who as u u 192 2 t presiding geni s s ggested , in the spring of , hat it was l Tbe u i time to start a magazine . He also provided a tit e, F g " ‘ i - Tbc u iti ve 1922 for. c t 77 78 . Tate, F g ,

2 2 In Pursuit of tbe Fugitives tive whid r was rovocative enou h and en i matic enou h , p g g g to arouse the interest of the group and th e curios ity of its pros “ v th r u i pecti e readers. How e g o p acqu red its sense of the ' a e is more difhcult to ex lain for it a ears that the had g p , pp y

H v to an one ac uain ted with the his tor of modern owe er, y q y hm mm it must seem more th an an acciden t that these few serious minds should have expressed themselves in the period 192 2 1 2 5 a how the from to 9 , no m tter far removed from e t of i c n er th ngs they might be. For these were the Golden i il Anni M rab et R. Years of the modern age, the as P . Black " mur l u n l cal ed them, when s dde ly an explosion of ta ent took " place in the Western world that has dwarfed everyt hing " n li 1 2 2 1 2 5 Ul trer Tbc si ce, crystal zing between 9 and 9 in y , Wane l urid Tbe Ma ic Mountain The To w Tbe ount r , g , er, C e " r b u itiv eiter r . T c f , and a g eat deal more F g e magazine " " formed part of the great deal more that writers produced i w at this t me, an d hether it came about as an aftermath of

war or i t v v eti can the as a d rec re elation from hea en , no one y v l But that i w moment in his tor for positi e y say. t as a crucial y a literar ma azine to be launched whatever the name an d y g , b u t v v h ev ac one . lf T c i i n w er er the pl e, no can deny F g e e er assumed the commanding position in world letters occupied ' Criterion v t e by El iot s , it ne er heless began in the same y ar, ' Its and this speaks well for the contributors sense of history . n i in 1 25 v too v e d ng 9 is a point in their fa or, , howe er arbi r trary the reasons for stopping might really have been . Histo y is not made b oet s but oets have a wa of res ondin to y p , p y p g it was in a small wa it that often seems miraculous, an d so , y,

u ve us But for the F giti s , to be conscio of their age meant to be conscious of their isolation from it : the title of their

“ B u n Mire bilet 1 2 1- 2 5 : R Madneaa R. . c m A ni 9 P la k r, eason in the ” of - Aus ices of the Ger h tters , Pour Len ures Prearnted Under the p - trude O arke Whittall Poctry and Literature Fund (Washin¢tnn m v cl 0mm p 10

In Purtuit of tbc Pugitivet / 23 magazine implied a separation from the rest of mankind that became a perpetual theme of their poetry

b u And if an alien , misera ly at fe d W v ith those my generation , I ha e reason To think to salve the fester of my treason v u u A se en of friends exceeds much m ltit de.

So ro R t w te ansom in his first poem , and so he and the o hers u t l v contin ed to wri e, in a most e ery poem and essay they con tributed to the nineteen numbers of Tbe Fugitive in the next r three and a half yea s . The common theme was the alien ation t u of the artist from his society, in this case a par ic lar society , " the American South : TH E FUGITIVE flees from noth ing - S u faster than from the high caste Brahmins of the Old o th , m the opening state ent declared . Against it ran the counter " u v theme of brotherhood within the gro p , the se en of friends , a theme not so often stated as implied . The bond of r friendship that first d ew them together, and the practice of v v r poetry that strengthened it, were e ident in e e y page of the i t magaz ne, and nowhere more than in the edi orial policy , v which chose poems by ballot, and refrained from gi ing first m the i place to any single me ber, passing ed torship from one u u poet to another thro ghout th e co rse of the magazine. As an editorial in th e sixth issue declared :

We difi erentiation l v have no of ranks or tit es , and e en i - u u u cl ng to an old fashioned , ro ndabo t method of gro p u action in doing the chores of p blication , with the very idea of securing the blessings of liberty against the possible

sus picion of a tyranny .

u u effort at In a conspic o s anonymity, the members decided u Tbe u itive to choose pseudonyms for the first two iss es of F g , though their better judgment soon brought them to reveal At l their identities . any rate, the old iterary game of pen m filli u i na es added a p for the local p bl c, as one of the later Fugitives has testified

24/ In Pursuit of tbe Fugitive:

di v v splayed a wit that was present in e ery line, fla oring the elegant mannerism of his speed with the sav ing grace of u u - h mor, and adding a s btle self irony that seemed to mock the

o . e r i i apparent morbidity of the p em Cl a ly, an orig nal vo ce was in u u speaking here, and it was to speak again s bseq ent issues Tbc u itiv R u of F g e. ansom was the one member of the gro p v u tu the who had arri ed at f ll ma rity when magazine began , and " lle : l who fi d its pages with some of his finest work Philome a , " " " ' h W D u Conrad at Twilight, Bells for j o n hiteside s a ghter , " " " i M u Capta n Carpenter, Old ansion , Bl e Girls, Tom , ’ Son Tom the Piper s , Piazza Piece , and many other poems bearing the unmistakable stamp of his style were printed in Th u itiv u e F g e . No wonder some readers tho ght all the poems u man o in the first iss es had been written by one , wh se real name was Ransom ! But R u if ansom was the major poet of the F gitive period , him l other poets were emerging to challenge , and some a ready ' ’ o u D gave pr mise of sto t competition . avidson s and Tate s epi " grammat ic skill was shown in such epitaphs as Lines for a " " Omn is Moriar u had Tomb and Non , tho gh neither as yet ' u M M au ca fo nd his distinctive voice . errill oore s inexh stible acit v v u t the r p y for sonnets was e ident in e ery iss e af er fi st, and li his if he lacked the po sh of the others , the deftness of touch and casualness of his mann er were welcome antidotes to the v t u u il solemn gra i y of m ch F gitive verse . Besides these sk led a the pr ctitioners, two new poetic discoveries were made in u ti the to course of F gi ve publication . Among first win the prizes that began to be offered in 1 92 3 were Robert Penn . W u R W arren and La ra iding . arren was then a sophomore at

- u u Vanderbilt, a red haired , gangly yo th from Kent cky , and he — became the youngest member of the Fugitive group younger v e en than Tate, who in discovering him recognized him as " ' v W the most gifted pe rson I have e er known . arren s talent u u was precocio s , and he responded at once to the enco ragement 1 92 5 b f The of the older poets , so that by he was a le to of er

“ " ' 1 ‘ n B u T om Tom Son Later versio s of l e Girls and , the Piper s , n newly titled, appear in this editio .

2 6/ In Pursuit of the Fugitives " r a Fugiti ve such a classic poem as Ta ace in a C owd. L ura Ri i o ss i v l u d ng, then the wife of a pr fe or at Lou s i le, Kent cky , was ahnost as impomnt a disoovery as em an d she ln d the dininction of becoming the on ly femin ine member of the

ri i av e e o g nal and mature, and g e freshn ss and spontan ity to ve im e r e ry in which they appea ed . The Fugitive was un ique among li ttle magazines of the time in that it was devoted exclusivel to oetr and included , y p y, no prose except for occas ional short editorials and reviews The

ea l o contribu sp k for itse f . On the few occasi ns when one of the to s — u l R n v e —did ff his v e r us a ly a som, Da idson , or Tat o er i ws in pm e ths e m on the mbject announced early in 1924 " re n o t ) mnnin u the p se t state of p e ry For example, a g arg ment was conducted on th e uestion o f oetic form w ith Ran q p , som generally defending the English tradi tion of meter and mm at wh ich he had become such a skillful raetitioner y e p , and Tate defen din S cu a b g the new school of ymbolists, parti l rly as re resented b liliot an d Hart rane Tate was willin to p y C . g " assert that an indi vidualistic intellectualism is the mood of " ou a e and to ar ue that the common s oken lan ua e was t g , g p g g not a sufhcient no rm for the modern oe who must p g recognize, ' ' v is he said, that the poet s ocabulary prod igious, it embraces " the en tire ran e o f co nsci s Thou Ransom was re g ou ness . gh sistant to modernism s eciall to free verse as a new fomi m p y , he ' ' " had to admit that the lmagists had abolished stilted platitudes “ " and n im clichfi ow n v v en se t ental , and his poetry ga e e id ce of t he Symbo list infiuenoe on poetic diction that Tate so v igorous ly def And it was n a f az that ended. i late issue o the mag ine Ransom made his first defin ition o f one of the key terms of " em oe i t l i mod p t c s yle, irony , ca l ng it the rarest of the states of mind is u v m has , because it the most incl si e ; the whole ind e iv v ea be n act e in arri ing at it, both cr tion and criticism, both ’ e b po try and science . Thus the tenor of critica l argument in T e Fugitive was not preponderan tly for either trad itionalism or

In Pursuit of ré e Fugitives [27 m but t u odernism, rather formed a dialec ic that concl ded, in the l r u D fina issue, with a st ong arg ment by avidson for the new

i u . S . . u experiments in poetic techn q e by T Eliot , E . E C mmings, “ and Wallace Stevens : The strangest thing in contemporary " " r v v v i poet y , he obser ed , is that inno ation and conser atism ex st " side by side . Both the dialect ic and the poetry ended officially in Decem 1 92 5 u ber, , with a brief anno ncement in the final issue of " " b u it v T e F g i e that the magazine was being suspended . The reas on given was not lack of either the financial or the creative bu i u but . contri resources to cont n e, a simple lack of time The tors had become so busy with their own work that they were u r u i v nable to carry on the one o s job of edit ng a magazine, e en " though No Fugitive dreamed in the beginn ing that our maga " zine would meet with the success that it has . All that could be “ promised for the future was that The Fugitives will continue to hold their frequent meetings for the discussion of poetry and

philosophy , for as they said with characteristic independence, " we were holding these meetings for years before the thought u e l of p blication was ent rtained , and we sha l go on holding u them after p blication , for the time being , has stopped . 80 ended one of the most successful little magazines in u America , which had acq ired fame in spite of the provinciality of its origin , and which had certainly improved the taste of the r R age for good poet y . As ansom said later, looking back

That was a group effort beyond anything I have ever taken

part in . Its quality was rare and fine as a piece of coopera tion ; I do not mean to be passing a judgment on the poetic

u u . u t u su o tp t That was no better than it sho ld be, ho gh I p pose it was good enough not to leave us looking foolish i v after so much pa ns . They were the best days I ha e ever 1 2 had .

Pos tsc ipt to Tbs Fugiti ve : Clippings and Comment Coll ected by M rrill Moore 1 1 e , p . .

28/ In Pursuit of tbe Fugitives II. M W AT LARGs

BY T H E Antbology of Verse was published in 1 28 that had once been so d osel asso 9 , y ciated had broken u an d some o f the most active members p, e elsewherch - in had gon Tate to New York, where he was volved with a much larger and more heterogeneous group of r W l i as write s, and arren to Ca iforn a and then to Oxford a

R S o . u ive hodes ch lar The F git s were no longer together, but the sense of the compact between them remained alive and con ha defin ed in tinned to aftect them. This sense w as er s best . p p t to v 1 24 a letter from Ta e Da idson in 9 , when the magazine was still being published and the group was gathering regu larly at the Frank borne on Whitland Av enue in Nashv ille to ’ e r i m r ad and c itic ze one another s poe s . Tate wrote, in response to a new book of poems by Davidson :

It is the occasion for a renewed consciousness of the mean v ing of our compact, that co enant which was more sign ificant than either of us could guess on the day of its almost casual u making. For my part, its significance is q ite separate from v any idea of the greatnes s or immortality [we may achie e] . As ou sa it is the life of adven ture an d I sa that the y y, , y reason of this is that it is the life of th e soul; an d it is tbe life of the soul despite the incidental fmstrations we meet and the merely human foibles we display and the temporary i un rs fl ‘l' ms de tanding of the esh that we may suffer .

i v u The Fug ti es were first of all a gro p of friends , for whom t e v c u v poe ry s r ed as a means of human inter o rse , a kind of erbal sacrament shared with one ano ther that for a few ears was , y

‘ ca e on n . pabl of c stant re ewal Once the magic had worked, the " r w f me became success membe s ere ree to go their own way . So ful i e e e bus n ssmen , some b came editors and critics, a few b came n ti m a onal and international men of letters, and some si ply went

t u te ou Cam The u iti ve rou 163. Let er q o d by L ise in F g G p. 9.

In Pursuit of tbe Fugitives [29 a ut on being teachers , c rrying the tr hs discovered in the pursuit l u of poetry into the teaching of iterat re , enabling them in time to bring about something like a revolution in the study of their

u e t . e s bj c For, once they l arned how to interpret poems from the v inside, they were able to interpret e ery other experience in u terms of the primary experience of poetic tr th , and by this v means render special ser ice to modern letters , in relation to the u S u niversity , to the o th , and finally to the world .

u t v A . The F gi ives and the Uni ersity

THE close relation betw een the Fugitives and a particular un i versity in the South might lead one to believe that they set " u u i themselves p from the start as niversity poets , with offic al u Su h sponsorship and a ready a dience . ch was ardly the u v u but The ni ersity had bro ght them together, it took little interest in th em or their magazine until after they had won

their fame . The only official action taken toward them was by " En lish D S u the head of the g epartment , a o thern Liberal of the " old school , as Tate described him , who invited them all to u l nch and urged them not to publish a magazine . They went n ahead with it, anyway , knowi g they were on their own , and u u u u pro d eno gh of their independence to anno nce in one iss e, Of course Tbc Fugitive has no sort of connection with any " u v ffi instit tion whate er . They won their way to o cial recog a v u as ition by recei ing the recognition of other poets, j st any u u poet or gro p of poets has had to do in the twentieth cent ry , " ' " when art for the artists sake has seemed to be the unwritten u r le . u Once having gained their fame, however , they co ld hardly

avoid sharing it with Vanderbilt , for the connection between

them and the university remained close and friendly . Happily " e u for them , th y stayed o tside the walls , as far as any formal but f i sanction was concerned , they had a vast ef ect on the ntel

lectual life within the walls . The literary tradition of Vander the u i bilt began with F g itives , and what rema ns of it sti ll v v v thri es on the resources they left behind . Being as in ol ed as

30/ In Pursuit of tbe Fugitives th wem whh aflas eas of a m us fifh as tud im smdents q — p p , md ahamni their example con tinued to stimulate the acadfi c mind lon after the rou had dissolved with Rans6m teach g g p , ing there for another decade M ore go ing to Kenyom an d Dt Vidson boldin g a nujor professorsh ip until his retit ement

mmmon inclim tion u By , amounting to principle, the F gi " " tives have retained their amateur stams et have become the , y most respected group of university poets in America Not

and poets they have added luster to the names of numerous American aa demies as far-flun as Califomia Louisiana State , g , , Y ew n M Havin been d S a ee i c e . e , Pr n eton, inn sota, and Kenyon g a oet first ead i en o ed a reincarnation as editor W p , j y , arren im ndm Tbe S outbem Revi w R m K n n R vi w g e , anso e e yo e e , and Tate spen ding a distinguished period editing Tbe S e m ei sa u i v e Re ew . l t is not too mud i to y that the F g ti es have helped to nn ke the American un ivers ity a fit place for pe and dtis is a valuable role in deed in a time when the university has bccome the principal patron of the arts . lt is no less true that the un iversity has been as nmch a

a h as far as th e are con Per aps , y cerned the univerait is the $outh at least the art of it that , y , p lm seemed most mdurin g.

F d South B . The ugitives an the

r to a lear So n armn c lilre this has to be said, in o der m lre c

there can be no doubt, as mnch as R n efiers Englander, or obi son j a t ei o ie i : firs , th r l yalt s were m xed nothing faster than from the high

hare md in all nibeequeruissues they continued to argue

In Pursuit of tbe Fugitives / 3 1 u i s the point . There was at first no conscio sly regional b a in their poetry ; in fact they quarreled publicly with what they took to t v S u be the restric ive iew of outhern cult re, as expressed in an editorial in Poetry magazine that seemed to call for a Southern ul t u W poetry that wo d be nos algically and q aintly local. hen a M u v Tbc H rriet onroe disclaimed s ch a iew in her next issue , " Fugitive editors explained that we fear to have too much stress laid on a tradition that may be called a tradition only when u looked at thro gh the haze of a generous imaginat ion . They " " made it clear that they were against both atavism and senti " Sou mentality in thern writing, vices that were all too familiar in the moonlight and magnolia school that had arisen in the S u War u 1 24 o th after the Civil . In an editorial in the j ne, 9 , " u The u iti v D v iss e of F g e, a idson listed among the Fallacies of " Modern Poetry the assumption that A Good Poet must have " Local Color . He went on to explain

S u Frost has written of New England , andb rg of Chicago, but whatever is good in their poetry is good not merely u beca se they wrote of specific places . Place is incidental ; u v l t it is s bordinate ; it may e en form a definite imi ation , and

perhaps does in the case of much American poetry . At the a - u u i sub best , it is merely pict resq e addition , not the nner f stance o poetry .

Perhaps the best evidence that the Fugitives were not senti l but S u u i menta ly , critically, o thern is to be fo nd in the r poetry, where the ironic tone cuts through the veil of myth surrounding v the scenes and characters , and re eals the age and decay that u u n u R m are cr mbling the Old So th i to r in . anso wrote of the " " Anti ue v S q Har esters that peopled the outhern landscape, looking like figures from a tapestry rather than real farmers " " a i with a field to plow , and he made of his C pta n Carpenter ur S uh u e a fig e of gentle mockery, a sort of o t ern Don Q ixot u u but his who co rageo sly weakly defended code of honor, until finally there was nothing left of him but a carrion for the " " " kites ; and he pictured himself in Old Mansion as an in

3 2/ In Pursuit of tbe Fugitives

' Tate s Southern v ersion of The Was te Land shows man trapped i but u iv v in t me, honoring the past nable to l e by it, a ictim - u u of his own self conscio sness, tempted like Narciss s to em but v to brace his own image and drown , too stoic to gi e in the r v e despai he feels in the presence of e il and d ath . u u There is m ch in F gitive poetry , in fact, that directly parallels the experience so powerfully expressed in that other S u W u great writer of the modern o th , illiam Fa lkner, who was e u v v v q ally se ere in criticizing the land he ne er ceased to lo e . ’ " To place Tate s Ode beside such novels as Sartoris or The S ound and tbe u F ry, written at almost the same historical t moment , is to see how s rikingly they portray a common ex erience : S u 06 p that of the o th in crisis , too weak to throw a outwom the old shell of the past , so ent ngled in an tradition u is u that the only choice left to the sensitive individ al s icide, a choice actually taken by Quentin Compson and Bayard Sar ' u v v v di e toris in Fa lkner s no els , and i idly imagined by spokes ' u man in Tate s poem . Only the tragic grande r and sympathy of the portrayal in each case relieves the hopelessness of the u human sit ation . To place Faulkner beside the Fugitives is only to recognize the dominant roles they have played in the Renaissance of S u u modern o thern literat re . Between them , the spoils may be u v u u u o almost eq ally di ided . If Fa lkner is nq esti nably greater u u v v as an isolated geni s , the F giti es ha e been greater as a v u u r ci ilizing instr ment in So thern letters . The e is no novelist u u S u the eq al of Fa lkner anywhere in the o th , and there are no poets who can compare with the Fugitives in sustained v u u achie ement . If Fa lkner is the prize example of the nat ral talent, or what might be called the rewards of illiteracy, the u u F gitives are the prize examples of the t tored talent, or the W rewards of literacy . hat binds them together as artists and men is loyalty to their native region , in spite of its decadence, n and adherence to the old ideal of Jeffersonian Agraria ism . u A This is not to identify the F gitives with the grarians , u which would only lead to confusion . The F gitives and the

Agrarians were two separate schools , one of which was ex

3 4/ In Pursuit of the Fugitives d uaively lin rnrt e other just as exclusively social and po ’ liticak lh e Agr-arians were not organized un til after the T u itives l ad disbanded and then the included O g i , y nly four e e s —al e ma o r n —o f v u u : R m mb r b it j o es the pre io s gro p ansom , Davim ate d u rem Th e Southem Agn nanx whose iu ”! Tak M Stand aroused so mudi criticism symp s m e y , "o " mactionar social document must be understood in the as a y , context of the De res s ion solutions to the p years, when radical

Th e A rarians were olitical idealists of the South who tried g p , to take a broad view of the common redicamen t and who p , believed as jefiers on had believed that hunn n mlmre has its grass roots in agriculture : destroy the in timate relation between man md namr their ar umen t ran and ou destro the fer e g , y y

society was too deeply rooted in Southern life an d character to be a sily od gmwm and when the crisis of the ltmerican industrial s stem came it was natural for 50utherners to turn y , to what they thought was the one sure way of sustaining life

al sta in fact the had o osed the re ional a roach to i ; , y pp g pp o t bm in becomin the dis p e ry ; g responsible critics of society , y v e ona As Tate u it for the whole Fu i co ered their r gi l bias . p t g

Th ey were willin g to draw upon all the resources of poetry diat the knew for it was obv ious that their sectionalism y , , if xi e it e st d. and their nationalism, if that existed, would

be profoundly scctional in that it was supported by the preju

What is most Southern in Fu itive oetr is not A rarianism g p y g , but a qaecial compom d of local qualitiea some o f which are

i c M m xviii an s n e , L (J ,

In Pursuit of tbe Fugitives [35 l historica , some geographical , and some temperamental . Among ul u the historical , one wo d incl de the many Classical references , the Greek names and Latin phrases , that so richly season this r u poet y . The F gitive poets, like the little girls in Katherine ' 01d Mo talit Anne Porter s story , r y, seem to have been brought " u u p in the belief that one sho ld always have Latin , or at u u e least a good classical poetry q otation , to depend pon in gr at " Bu u or desperate moments . t the historical would also incl de the broad perspective from which these poets v iew the con temporary world :

Where we went in the boat was a long bay n A slingshot wide, walled in by toweri g stone u ' Peaked margin of antiq ity s delay, And we went there out of time ' s monotone

' So M e t i begins Tate s The editerran an , wi h a majest c sweep of space and time that seems to place one above the looking down from a great height . Again ,

We are the children of an ancient band t u Broken be ween the mo ntains and the sea,

W - writes arren , seeing his westward moving race in a more u v tragic Exod s to the Promised Land , which they can ne er u m S S ut u u q ite reach or clai . outhern poetry , like o hern c lt re , l e v . S . is h a y with the historical sense, which as T E iot defined it in a famous passage

compels a man to write not merely with his own generation but in his bones , with a feeling that the whole of the litera ture of Europe from Homer and within it the whole of the literature of his own country has a simultaneous existence “s and composes a simultaneous order.

” “ Tradition and the i ndividual Taleng Selected Essays (New B 4 : arc u c . . York H o rt, ra e, p v

36/ In Pursuit of tbe Fugitives Th e m a phical element is equally prominent in this " o t not as uaint local color or ainted backdm but as p e ry, q , p p, a felft nelation to the lan d:

Are the most used-up thing on earth (or in the waters under the earth ) Having no mo re color nor predilection Tlun s oom talks too wet for the fxre, A ribbon rottin on the b re g y , ' A man s face as weathered as straw

' ' the sumrner flare an By s d winter s flaw .

It must have bem just mdi a stanza that inspired so exotic a “ ' oet W teven Mr Ransom s s are p as alh ce S s to exclaim : . poem “ rn ose ‘0 Re i t m p d of Tennessee. ad ng through a collec ion of Fu itive oetr one realizes anew that the Soufli has a reli ion g p y, g of ph m a mysfique of lw h that is impossible to defin e by an means eme t oetr . Southem ers s ecialize in local deities y p p y p , and can raise a wild bear into an ima e of God as in Faulkn er s g , Tc m or can enetrate dee into the wildemess as in , p p ,

Men have found lmagea carved in bird-shapes there an d faces

Moulded into the great kin d look of gods .

‘ Rlis same Southern lov e of plaoe is what forms half its tem erament for the slow ness e p , of mot ion and spe ch , the indolence “ " md drawl as well as the hot- o ro ert ies the . blo dedness, are p p f dim te instills in all the races of the South . 1h e other half o

Use Sa athern tern em nen however is not a matter of cli p e , with the feudal character of Soud\ern mate, but lus to do in rtl liten eas of rnannu ¢ e anciety ; it eornes out the cm y po . " " “ w R n m: n ss m to C John Cro e a so Ten e ean. Ho age j ohn rowe

ew n m Lvl Au s Se t . 368. I m am, S M , ( Q p p

In Pursuit of the Fugitive: / 37 v re erence for the aged and the dead , the sense of stability and permanence in human values—all vestiges of an older order of h t ings . It does not matter that the South failed to establish this " " old order in the New World for more than a few genera ~ tions , at most ; what matters is that the feeling for a hieras l chical social order remains , ike the love of the land and the faith in God , as a kind of essential rightness , to betray which u wo ld be to betray oneself, and to lose heart completely

u ur o a eth . Tr e, it is said of Lady, she g But ou see , if y peep shrewdly , she hath not stooped ; u v v Take no tho ght of her ser itors that ha e drooped , For we are nothing ; and if one talk of death Wh e u r y, the ribs of the arth s bsist as frail as a b eath but e If God w arieth .

C . The Fugiti ves and the World

1 T . H E MEANING OF FUGITIVE

G i u o e THOU H the poets dropped the r pse d nyms , after two issu s Tbc u itive ve i di of F g , and re aled the r proper names , ey left “ the name of their magazine undefined . It seemed to be a us u secret among , tho gh no one knew what the secret was , R ” e . v ansom said many y ars later That it was a secret , e en to r u u i members of the g o p, points to the esoteric nat re of the r a comp ct , and links them with the Imagists before them , and rl S i u still ea ier, to the French ymbolists , the orig nal gro p from But v fur which all mod ern poetry has sprung . it points e en u u r all ther , to the necessary mystery s rro nding poet y in places

u u u . S and times , indicating its ltimately religio s so rce idney u e Hirsch was wrong in many of his fancif l etymologi s , no u but i u do bt, he was right in his primary nt ition that poetry is c to s W a sa red art, an attempt always tran late the ord of God into the words of men , and it was he who invented the name ‘7 i i i R. u ll : V Uni u t ves Reun on . R F g , ed . P rdy (Nashvi e anderbilt 1 2 2 versity Press, p . .

3 8/ In Pursuit of tbe Fugitives “ Fu iv What meant b it was robabl best ex lain ed git e. he y p y p ’ by Tate ho put it that l Fugifi ve wu quiw dmply a poa : die Wmdm or even the Wandering Jet e Outcasg the ’ l ‘ man who carries the secret wisdom of the worldf Their belief that poetry was something more than a pastime or divers ion that it was tml a divine a llin ave a dimension , y g, g to theis work that made even the most trivial poem seem some how to parfid pate in die imiversal human expes ience pasain g

Beaidea the eeoteric sense of the term u v there was F giti e, ab o what might be called the emergen t sense z that defined by flie poa ns themwad v n lt is dl is sense di at now gives fullest ma n in g to the woedj n the light of nearly half a cenmry of ' " acmmulated poeh a its emergen t sense the term T ugitiv e " " becomes one of the rime e uivalen ts . p q for modern man For, on ra i e e u ex eri c t ry to the r d sire to r cover an older, comm nal p — ence of men living together on the lan d th ey loved call it the " " " " " " S ut A e a Old o h. the Golden g , the G rden of Eden, what — you will the pull of modern experien ce forced them to ex re ma of s i u p ss recurrent i ges i olation and al enation. The F gi tives lilee m i i , other odern artists , have had their Ex stent al moments of da air and have been brou ht to faoe loneliness p , g u a esm anent human condition lt is to foun d in the earli p . be a m d"

As wear nomads in th is desert at las t y , Bo rn e in th e lost t process ion of hese feet .

' it a a v S u v n appe rs ag in in Da idson s anct ary, and e e more " elo entl u W t q y , in his late , fine trib te, Lines rit en for Allen " on his S t v s e Tate ixtie h Anni er ary , which sp aks of

el es us. d iberate exil , whose dry rod ' Blossoms ath vvart the Long Street s serv ile rage And tells what il rinu e reens the Tenn p g g g easee sod. u " 11 , p y 1 2 2 tor. ria a " 9 , p. 79 .

In Pursuit 0] 36: Fugitives / 39 The weary nomads and the deliberate exiles are other u u names for the F gitives , who co ld not flee from the common u M ' fate of man in this cent ry . ost convincing of all is Warren s " " r u w Ballad of Billie Potts, a sto y of o tlaws in estern Ken u k t c y told to him as a child , which has essentially the same ’ u 5 Le Mal n t ndu the plot as Cam s e e , strange Existential drama u cu of a m rder oc rring in eastern Europe . Whether they have u n u but i s a common so rce one can o ly g ess , there no mistaking r the similarity of cha acter and theme, for both are parables of the Prodigal Son in reverse : they show that when human v identity becomes lost, man becomes a prey to man, and e en parents may be brought by unforeseen circumstances to murder

their own child . " To stress the Existential meaning of the name Fugitive is u r S u only to s ggest that the poet y of the modern o th , like the S u u fiction of the modern o th , has been as m ch an expression of v W the age we li e in as the literature of an y other region . hat gi ves Southern writing its special perspective is the sense of the w S u distance, in time and space , bet een the o th as a last u u remnant of E ropean fe dal society, with a landed gentry and e a peasantry still rooted to a single spot of arth, and the largely undifferentiated mass society of the modern industrial ized me

tr0 o lis u u u . n p , with its restless and ha nted m ltit des Fleei g from v u u ul u a anishing c lt re into a relatively c t reless world , the Southern writer has experienced a profounder se nse of shodr — than many of his contemporaries except for those expatriate u v Americans like Eliot and Po nd , who made the long oyage W l v from the New orld to the Old , and who have i ed in a different kind of exile during their distinguished and contro versial careers .

TH E G V AS DV D L 2 . FU ITI ES IN I I UA S

Y E T it would not be fair to stress too much the common theme of their poetry , and ignore the achievements that each u u has made as an individ al poet . For the gro p fostered indi v idualit u y , in spite of its nity , and each main member has been

40/ In Pursuit of tbe Fugitives

e R e v wh n ansom sp aks , so that e en when his manners are most l , . R u i a l e egant he is still slyly smiling ansom is the tr e Classic st , ways polishing and perfecting his poems by a slow proces s Af v u re ision ntil they attain inevitability ( for the most recent

" ’ e v i e proof, compare the arlier ersion of Tom, Tom the P p r s " " " Son i u Men with The Van ty of the Bright Yo ng , which is i v u printed for the first time in th s ol me) . Yet he confides that " ’ l W u r his most perfect poem, Bel s for John hiteside s Da ghte , was v written in a couple of days, and not a word of it has e er

. om S u been changed C forted by his gentle irony, the o th may be seen almost accommodating itself to the harsh realiti es u u at of the modern age, tho gh not witho t a backward look the s i e lo t felicit es of an arlier age . D v s the Not so with a idson, who seem able to bear loneliness " of exile better than the loneliness of the crowd . H is Lee in " the Mountains is a hero who accepts defeat proudly and c calmly , and who retires from the battle to a pla e of contempla u v e u i i tion, a ni ersity s at in the mo nta ns of Virg n ia, where he " remembers the lost forsaken v alor and waits for death to i all u t e come and cla m him . Davidson , who of the F gitives of v i mained nearest the place their concla e, rema ns the most v S u the his con inced o therner, least ironic in loyalty to the " " " Sanctuary of the Southern wilderness and the H ermi tage u e n b ilt by his forefathers . Yet there is an arnest ess in his tone, there is a stubborn strength in the hard contours of his poetry a e s that c nnot a ily be dismissed , and he has a gift for narrative v a erse that is rare in the modern age, shared only mong the ' u W D - l u F gitives by arren . avidson s ballad like sty e is the res lt of long schooling in the oral tradition of the Southern moun

h s . tains, a tradition w ich he has often praised in his pro e essays a l u He accepts isolation stoic lly , ike a man long acc stomed to

u u to u . solit de, sed the silence of the mo ntains and the woods v r He was once, howe er, the main cementing fo ce of the u u F gitives , and has paid the gro p its most memorable poetic " tribute in Lines Written for Allen Tate on his Sixtieth v Anniversary , which recalls the fer or of conversation in the " ' old days when that hous ehold s Oaken being spoke like

42 / In Pursuit of tbe Fflgiliver M ed l re Of au the Fu ifiv Davidson has sta ed a p y . g a y d a a t m the spoken m difiomwhich unites

' His children and His children s children forever

Unto all generations of the faithful heart .

Tate on the other hand is the convinced cosmo olitan the , , p , " " Banerner m ng Smuhernem who w as most strongly drawn to ward Bliot and Poun d and who cornpetes with them in the " i i v s Ode to th e complex -ophistia t on of h s er e . His Con " federate Dead stan ds at the cen ter of modern Southern oetr p y, ” — yet its theme as he himself has explained it in the class ic ' — m y of self-analyfi a N arcissus as Narcissus is not South demuctive self-lov e that is the so le ern mbstitute for the d n v v Tate w a who le eration u re u pti e lo e of God . as gen yo nger n Rm som v n t u tha and Da idso in his at it de toward the world, the one av owed modern ist w ithin the rou fou ht hard g p, who g for a new oetic st le an d in his oetr did not shrin k from p y , p y obsa irit or rofuodit bein ossessed of a keen in telli ence y p y, g p g that leaped from image to image an d insight to insight with out recourse to lo ical transition Both obscurit an d rofuodit g . y p y only natural that be should mov e toward religious mysti ci sm i n " his later oetr culminatin in The Seasons of the Soul p y, g , ' which cornpares as a Christian meditation with Eliot s Arb ' u u r “ u i d udt y and Fo r Q a k . Tate s So thern Symbol sm mainstream of modern poetry thao any if the long autobiographical poem that ’ " hegan with T he Swimmers is ever completed (he says only ' w diat he ho es to fin ish it some da e p y) , it may well be th finest exam le of sustained rem im o p r in English p etry, not simply an imitation but a te-creation of the verse form of ' ivine om d Dante s D C e y, which has been the despair of so ’ m oe our u u v d lan . any gifte p ts in g age Tate s serio sness, e en when it is moa obsrure is never a retense but an actual , p , wrestlin with an t i t le at its bect stands g the gel . His poe c s y

In Pursuit a] 16: Fugitive: / 43 " somewhere betw een what he has called the angelic imagina S e r u tion ( that of Poe or helley , which l aps di ectly pward " i i n toward the infin ite) , and the symbol c magi ation (that of e Dante or Eliot, which moves from earth to h aven by percep ffi u tible stages of finite experience) . Tate is the most di c lt of u v the F giti es , and probably also the most central , for in his R poetry the traditional and the modern , the omantic and the as C i u Cl sic are inextricably intertwined , in a rich h arosc ro of " " l v meanings , a tone at once ga lant and gra e . " u v W Then comes The Kent cky oice of arren, which is , in ' " ” W u v S . comparison with Tate s , the most estern of o thern oices Warren is the one Fugitive whose experience incorporates the

frontier, as well as the town , the plantation , and the farm, and his v erse possesses a kind of rustic v itality that the other Fugi tives D v R i (except a idson ) lack. He competes with ob nson f n Jef ers in his mastery of the long, controlled li e, best suited for v narrative, and he writes with a prose realism ery near the

naturalistic American fiction he knows so well . It is significant " " Sin : S r S that one of his poems is titled Original A ho t tory , " " and his Ballad of Billie Potts is the nearest thing to a novel

in free verse ; at his best , he combines the swift pace of fiction

with the intensity of poetry . As Tate predicted soon after meet ’ — ing Warren : That boy s a wonder has more sheer genius than any of us ; watch him : his work from now on will have — ‘9 War what none of us can achieve power . The power of ' r u : l Els i/ m ren s poet y is often omino s his finest col ection , o m on tbe Sam Tbeme u t the P e s e , shows a preocc pa ion with " u g ilt of man , with the Crime that all men try to conceal " " the u u from themselves , and with predestined P rs it of man

ur . by the omnipresent , relentless f ies of his own conscience W u u has u v arren , the yo ngest of the gro p, been the most F giti e

all th e . of them , and in this sense most modern Yet there has ' u t always been in Warren s poetry a strong co nter heme , ex " e pressed unforgettably in his classic arly poem, Bearded " Oaks :

l’ ' Lettei D A 17 1924 u u C , to avidson , pril , ; q oted by Lo ise owan

Tb: u tive rou . 1 50. in F gi G p, 9

44/ In Pursuit of tbe Fugitives We live in time so little time And we learn all so painfully ’ Th at we can slaare this hour s tenn ' ' To ractic tor eterni p e ty.

" a To a li ttle Girl One Year in a Ruined m sterpiece, , Old. P " orteess, which contains mch lin es as

R n n ecog itio explodes in delight. a lec i i You le p li spray , or l ke l ght, and which ends with a resolution of all aradoxes in a eaoe p , p the more appreciated for the struggle by which it has been

For fire flames but in the heart of a oolder fire.

v i u u v All o ce is b t echo caught from a so ndless oice .

i v v . He ght is not depri ation of alley, nor defect of desire B t defines for me fortuname that o in which all o s u , , j y j y should rejoice

' Warren s career as a poet has always been overshadowed by his gm t popuh r mccess u a nov ehsc but it is not too mudi to hope that in time the immortal part of him will overtake the morfi l ar and he will be known a ain as the oun eat p h g y g , mo t v a i and m v the u v . s ers t le, ost igorous of F giti es e e i u v B side th se tower ng figures, the other F giti es seem

v i . dwarfed ; yet they too ha e the r separate strengths Indeed . it is remarkable how ably the minor Fugitives kept up the high an e r st dard set by the major on s . Fo emost among them was Merrill Moore whose roduct ivit as a oet was so reat that , p y p g a in olre at meetin s He seemed to be the it beume stand g i the g . nearest thin a oetr -ma i wh ich could be tumed on g to p y ch ne.

In Permit 0] 1b: Fugitive: [45 0 6 to u and at will , and he used amaze the gro p by bringing v at least a dozen poems to e ery meeting, while the others were u u str gg ling to prod ce a single one . He wrote in a sty le that was almost instantaneous ; his poems can be read about as u M q ickly and effortlessly as a newspaper . ost of the many u but tho sands of sonnets he wrote were not worth keeping, on w as u the sheer law of chance, he bo nd to score a hit now and u l n then , and he did . Eq a ly spontaneous, and o ly a little less u R l prolific , was La ra iding , who wrote in a tight y controlled v free erse like the Imagists , and who became an honorary u u on F gitive, winning several of their prizes . Tho gh she went a v l u to g in prominence among British poets , she e entua ly t rned her back on poetry and renounced her own poems as inade

quate expressions of the truth of human feelings . The other u u as W St v F gitives , s ch Jesse ills, Alec Brock e enson , and S v v v tanley Johnson , wrote too little to ha e a distincti e oice, but the few good poems that each produced during the Fugi tive period prove how widely poetic inspiration was shared at

' the time when the Fugitives worked together to create modern Southern poetry of enduring excellence.

Wuw m

x O ford , Ohio

DEAD BOY

u u The little co sin is dead , by fo l subtraction, A u ' green bo gh from Virginia s aged tree, u And none of the co nty kin like the transaction ,

u i . Nor some of the world of o ter dark, l ke me

A u ul boy not bea tif , nor good , nor clever , A u u n black clo d f ll of storms too hot for keepi g, ' — A sword beneath his mother s heart yet never W oman bewept her babe as this is weeping .

A pig with a pasty face, so I had said , S u kin ned n q ealing for cookies , by poor prete se u But W . i t u ith a noble ho se the l t le man q ite dead, I ' u see the forbears antiq e lineaments .

The elder men have strode by th e box of death u i u To the wide flag porch , and m tter ng low send ro nd u 0 re t ! The br it of the day . friendly waste of b a h

Their hearts are hurt with a deep dynastic wound .

a He was p le and little , the foolish neighbors say ; first- u r The fr its , saith the P eacher , the Lord hath taken ; ' But this was the old tree s late branch wrenched away,

v i th e . Grie ng sapless limbs , the shorn and shaken

THE VANITY OF THE BLUE GIRLS

l u u v Twir ing yo r bl e skirts , tra eling the sward u n Under the towers of yo r semi ary , Go listen to your teachers old and contrary

Without believ ing a word .

50/ John Crowe Ramon: Tie the white fillets then about your hair And think no mo re o f w hat will oome to pas s ' ' l han bhiebirds that go walking on the grass r And thatterin on the air g .

a i e u i Pr ct se your b a ty, blue girls, before it fa l ; And 1 will cry with my loud lips and publish

lt is so frail.

For l oould tell you a story which is true ; l know u a lady with a terrible tong e, Blear e es fallen from blue y , — All her perfection s tarnished yet it is not long ince v er than f ou S she was lo eli any o y .

THE VANITY OF THE BRIGHT YOUNG MEN ‘

Grim in my tight black coat as the sleazy beetle

A familiar only to books

Going alone to ass embly but always pushing Bm w n rmrpfl m Glaring with co ld grey eyes at w hom l was brushmg Who would if they could with theirs ;

[0610 Crow Ra ma / $l But walking afternoons in our green forest And wasting for my miracle Should a blackbird sit on my arm and mutter the barest Prelude to a mighty oracle ;

Passing once by luck of my chances and choices Under those Druid trees Whose leaves were ears and tongues translating voices Stitched in the wind s wheeze ;

Against me the counsels of Spirits not being darkened But talking each to each Till I slowed my stride in the shrubbery and hearkened Unto phrases of English speech ;

i tu ot One say ng, This boy who gs at the tether is her Than he and they suppose " But one, Yet sired and dammed by a father and mother " And surely acknowledges those ?

A Su our C l but third , ppose man was a hange ing knows not Yet bears himself as a Prince " Of a far kingdom and should return but goes not ? Fifteen long winters since ”

' But like a King and subject to a King s condition I towered and marched right on e v Not stooping to avesdrop even for re elation , u And q ick that talk was gone,

And prompt I showed as the bell ' s last throb appointed In the loud and litten room di e i t Unhailed by the love that leaps to Heir Ano n ed, " " u u ! H sh , O h sh , he is come

5 2/ [ol m Crow e Raflrom CONRAD IN TW ILIGHT

' Conrad Gonrad aren t ouold , , y To sit so late in your mouldy garden ? And I think r w i w Con ad kno s t ell, Nursin his knees too rheum g , y and cold

To warm the w raith of a Forest o f Arden.

Na tral ia in the badt of his g neck, hm llin w ith mch mia ma His gs fi g s , His feet dipping in leafage an d muclc ’ v Conrad l ym e forgouen as thma.

'

Conrad s house has thick red walls ,

’ The lo on Conrad s ha rth is blazin g g, Sl e tea are served ipp rs and pipe and , Butter m d toast are mean t for pleas ing ! ’ Still Conrad s back is not una irved

' And here s an aummn on him teasin . , g

Autumn days in our section Are the most used-up thin g on earth (Or in the waters un der the earth ) Having no mo re color nor predilection

Than co rnstalks too wet for the fire, ribbon rottin on the b re A g y , ’ A man s face as weathered as straw ' w ' By the summer s flare and inter s flaw.

[obit Crow: NECROLOGICAL

The friar had said his paternosters duly

An d u u v sco rged his limbs , and afterwards wo ld ha e slept; But u u u with m ch riddling his head became nr ly, u He arose, from the q iet monastery he crept .

D the awn lightened the place where battle had been won . — The people were dead it is easy he thought to die e but i These d ad remained , the l ving all were gone, the u Gone with wailing tr mps of victory .

The dead wore no raiment against the air, ' Bartholomew s men had spoiled them where they fell '

In defeat the heroes bodies were whitely bare ,

The field was white like meads of asphodel .

Not all were white ; some gory and fabulous Whom the sword had pierced and then the grey wolf eaten ; ' But re the brother asoned that heroes flesh was thus . a u t - Flesh f ils , and the post red bones lie wea her beaten .

v The lords of chi alry lay prone and shattered . The gentle and th e bodyguard of yeomen ; ' — but t Bartholomew s stroke went home little it mat ered ,

Bartholomew went to be stricken of other foemen .

Beneath the blue ogive of the firmamen t Was u a dead warrior, cl tching whose mighty knees Was t a leman , who with her flame had warmed his ent, ' For him enduring all men s pleasantries .

Close by the sable stream that purged the plain

Lay the white stallion and his rider thrown ,

The great beast had spilled there his little brain ,

And the little groin of the knight was spilled by a stone .

54/ John Crowe Ransom ' ' I he youth poas eas ed him then of a crooked blade Deep in the belly of a lugubrious wight; He fin ered it wel an d it was cunnin l g L g y made ; But stran e a arams was i f a g pp t or Carmelite.

Then he sat upon a hill and bowed his head As under a dddlq and in a deep surmise So still that he likened hi mself un to those dead

Whom the kitea of Heaven so licited with sweet cries.

JANET WAKING

Beautifully Janet slept e She e Till it was de ply morning . woke th n u - e And tho ght about her dainty f athered hen , it To see how had kept.

Only a small one gave she to her daddy Who would have kissed ead l mrl of his shining baby;

No kiss at all for her brother.

owChudr u ! y, old Ch cky she cried, Running across the world upon the grass ' h i . a To C ucky s house, and listen ng But las,

Her O xudry had died .

It was a transmogrifying bee ' Came droning down on Chucky s old bald head

d ut the oison . lt scarcel bled An d sat an p p y , But how exceedingly

[obn Crowe Rmrom And purply did the knot Swell with the venom and conunun icate Its rigor ! Now the poor comb stood up straight Bu u t Ch cky did not .

So there was Janet

Kneeling on the wet grass , crying her brown hen (Translated far beyond the daughters of men ) u To rise and walk pon it .

And weeping fast as she had breath " us W ! Janet implored , ake her from her sleep An d would not be instructed in how deep

Was the forgetful kingdom of death .

PIAZ Z A PIECE

— I am a gentleman in a dustcoat try ing u are an d To make you hear . Yo r ears soft small

And listen to an old man not at all , ' They want the young men s whispering and sighing. But see the roses on your trellis dying And hear the spectral singing of the moon ; u v v o For I m st ha e my lo ely lady s on ,

I am a gentleman in a dustcoat trying .

— I am a lady young in beauty waiting

u i . Until my tr elove comes , and then we k ss But what grey man among the Vin a is this Whose words are dry and faint as in a dream ? Sir screw ! Back from my trellis, , before I

I am a lady young in beauty waiting .

56/ John Crowe Ram om

' own And at last with my happier angel s temerity , Did d i I ang the r brazen knocker against the door, r To beg thei dole of a look , in simple charity , i Or crumbs of history dropp ng from their great store.

But — it came to nothing and may so gross denial, W i ul the re h ch has been deplored d y with a beating of b ast, v r Ne er shorten the ti ed historian , loyal To acknowledge defeat and discover a new quest

i The old mistress was ill, and sent my d smissal By one even more wrappered and lean and dark Than that warped concierge and imperturbable vassal ' Wh ou o bids y begone from her master s Gothic park.

a i u ru u Emph t cally , the old ho se c mbled ; the r ins W u l e e v o ld litter , as a r ady the l a es , this petted sward ; And no annal ist went in to the lord or the peons ;

The antiquary would finger the bits of shard .

But re l on ret ating I saw myse f in the token , How loving from my foreign weed the feather curled On the languid air; and I went with courage shaken

t u . To dip , alas , in o some nseemlier world

PHILOMELA

u Procne, Philomela, and Ity l s , u u tale Your names are liq id , yo r improbable i htin Is recited in the classic numbers of the n g y e. but our u l i Ah , n mbers are not fe ic tous , us It goes not liquidly for .

3 8/ Jobn Crow e Ransom Perched on a Roman il an d dul a od ro hized q y p p , The nightingale descan ted un to Ovid; Shc has even a eared to the Teutons the swilled pp , and grav id ; At Fontainebleau it may be the bird was gallicized Never was she ba tized p .

e i us a u Fl e ng the hawk her h b nd ; q erulous ghost, She wanders when he sits heav on r st y his oo . U rs l tte herse f in the original again , un r The t amlatable refrain .

’ ' to l Not these shores she came this oth er l hrace, En viron barbarous to the royal Attic; How could her delioate dir e run democratic g , Delivered in a cla adless boun dless public place To m inordinate race ?

I ernoctated with the ford students once p , And in the uadran lea in the cloisters on the Cher q g , , , Preoocia ssl knocked at anti ue doors a ar y q j , F l uch hems of the hiero han ts atuous y to ed the p , Sidr of m y diss onance .

I went mfi to Bagley Wood l climbed the hill; Even the moon had e ofi in a twinklin slant d g, I ar the a ul i ral owl an d a few be lls tinklin he d ep d g, was no mo re l in da to un fulfil There vil a ous y ,

the darkert wood where Philomela sat Up from , s What then ailed me ? Her fairy mm ber m ed. ca cious but the failed me My ears are called pa y , Her classia registered a little fiat ! v l at I m md enommss y sp .

[also Crowe Ra m / 59 l hi Phi omela, P lomela , lover of song, us I am in despair if we may make worthy, A bantering breed sophistical and swarthy ; e u u l u Unto more b a tif l , persistent y more yo ng, v Thy fabulous pro inces belong .

AMPHIBIOUS CROCODILE

In due season the amphibious crocodile Rose from the waves and clarnbered on the bank ot e v his i a And cl h d himself, ha ing cleansed toes wh ch st nk u Of bayous of Florida and est aries of Nile.

had And if he had not water on his brain , R d emember what joys were his . The complete lan lubber In a green mackintosh and overshoes of rubber Putting his umbrella up against the rain — For fear of the influenza sleeking his curls Prowling among the petticoats and the teacups Visiting the punchbowl to the v erge of hiccups

Breaching his promises and playing with the girls.

At length in grey spats he must cross the ocean. So i ? f th s is Paris La ayette, we are here . but u Bring us sweet wines none of yo r French beer.

And he weeps on Notre Dame with proper emotion.

R u is the C This is the ive Ga che, this Hotel rillon. W v u ? here are the bra e poil s They are slain by his French .

60/ [obn Crowe Ransom And mddmly he cfi q l wan t to see a trench ! Up in the North eventmlly he fin ds one

Which is all green slime an d water; whereupon lewd Nomlgie tremors assail him; with stran gled oaths He flea me would be kicking ofi his clothes ’ v - t a u And re erting to his pre O xris i n mother s n de.

n W Fleet r Next on the g nd tour is estminstermnd St eet. mbs s r s r e His E y m e ent him to King Geo g . Who is the gen tleman whose teeth are so large ?

le the renowned e . Tha is hh . Crocodi a sthete

To lmow fingh nd ra lly one must try the country And the week-end parties ; he is permaded to straddle d A yeflow bes st in a red ooat on a flat sa dle . r Much too gymnastical are the finglish gen t y .

Sure a an d da with Balliol ly Sootch so the men . Bot wben old Crocodile rises to spu lr at the Union He is too miserably conscious of his bunion And f r m toes too large o the s esthetic regi en .

It is too too possible be has wan dered far u From the simple center of his r gged nature. I wonder su s he if I am the sort of cr& ture , y , live b o ve afi aires de coeur? To y pr jects, tra l ,

‘ G ooodile ooders the marr in of a w ife p y g , She hs s a res dy-made fortune and ready -made family; Th e lsd is not a oem but she is s homil y p y, But a u a durms of the virtuous lif he hs tes the rect ng l r e.

r u Soberly C ocodile sips of the E charist. But as he meditates the obscene complexes v u s And infinite in ol tions of the sexe .

Crocod ile sets up for a psycho analyst.

[0611 Crow Ramon / 6l Great is his learning . He learns to discuss ’ ' W Wh o W W Pure being, both the ho s and hat s hat, f u B A firms that A is A , ref tes that is not . i u mud u This is a clean l fe witho t and m ss .

But who would ever have thought it took such strength To whitt le the tree of being to a point W - u v hile the deep sea rge cries Largo , and e ery joint Tingles wi th gross desire of lying at length ?

Of all the elements mixed in Crocodile Water is principal ; but water flows By paths of least resistance ; and water goes

Down , down , down ; which is too infantile .

r The ea th spins from its poles , and is glared u but By the fierce incessant s ns , here is news For a note in the fin e- print column of the Thursday Rev iews R u Old obert Crocodile is packed p and gone .

His dear friends cannot find him . The ladies write As usual but their lavender notes are returned

u . By th e U . S . Postmaster and secretively b rned

He has mysteriously gone out of sight .

Crocodile hangs his pretty clothes on a limb

And lies with his fathers , and with his mothers too, And his brothers and sisters as it seems right to do;

The family religion is good enough for him .

Full length he lies and goes as water goes , f He weeps for joy and welters in the lood ,

Floating he lies extended many a rood , And quite invisible but for the end of his nose.

62/ [ahu Cro we Ramon: Cs ptain Ct rpm ter rose up in his prime on his pistols and went riding out

T ll he f i ell in with ladies in a rout.

It was a pretty lady and all her tn in That played with him so sweetly but before ‘ An hour she d talren a sword w ith all her main

And w m f his s f t ined hi o no e or evermore.

Captain Carpm ter moun ted up one day And rode strsightway into a stranger rogue M loolred unchristian but be that as may a a r l u Th e C pt in did not wait upon p o og e .

The other sw ung s gainst him with a club And cracked his two legs at the shinn y part

And let him roll an d stid r like any mb.

C aptain Csrpenter rode man y a time From male an d female toolr he sun dry harrm “ ’ He met the wife of Satan crying I m

- The she wolf bids you shall bm no more arms.

Th eir stroloes snd counters whistled in the wind

I wish he had deliv ered half his blows

But where she should luve rmde ofi like a hind

’ Dae bitch bit oflhis arms s t the elbows.

And Ct ptain Carpen ter puted w ith his ears To s blaclr devil that used him in th is wise O j ems ere his thm ore an d ten years b Anotherhad pludred w t his sweet hre eyes .

[obn Crowe Ra nsom [63 Captain Carpenter got up on his roan And sallied from the gate in hell ’s despite I heard him asking in the grimmest tone If any enemy yet there was to fight ?

To any adversary it is fame If he risk to be wounded by my tongue ' Or burnt in two beneath my red heart s flame

Such are the perils he is cast among .

But if he can he has a pretty choice From an anatomy with little to lose Whether he cut my tongue and take my voice

Or whether it be my round red heart he choose.

It was the neatest knave that ever was seen Stepping in perfume from his lady ' s bower Who at this word put in his merry mien i And fell on Captain Carpenter l ke a tower .

I would not knock old fellows in the dust But there lay Captain Carpenter on his bad: His weapons were the old heart in his bust

And a blade shook between rotten teeth s lack.

The rogue in scarlet and grey soon knew his mind He wished to get his trophy and depart With gentle apology and touch refin ed ’ u Ca He pierced him and prod ced the ptain s heart.

God ' s mercy rest on Captain Carpenter now I thought him Sirs an honest gentleman Citizen husband soldier and scho lar enow

Let janglin g kites eat of him if they can .

’ But God s deep curses follow after those That shore him of his goodly nose and ears

64/ [obn Crowe Ram om

v v Lea e me now, and ne er let us meet, r Ete nal distance now command thy feet.

i u v Predicament indeed , wh ch th s disco ers v v Honor among thie es , Honor between lo ers. 0 u ! s ch a little word is Honor, they feel But the grey word is between them cold as steeL

At length I saw these lovers fully were come Into th eir torture of equilibrium ; ul h Dreadf l y had forsworn each ot er , and yet u They were bo nd each to each , and they did not forget.

as u And rigid two painf l stars , and twirled u u t Abo t the cl stered night heir prison world , u n ear They b rned with fierce love always to come , But honor beat them back and kept them clear .

v m ! Ah , the strict lo ers , they are ined now Bu u I cried in anger . t with p ddled brow Dev ising for those gibbeted and brave : Man u ou v ? Came I descanting , what wo ld y ha e

u out u a For spin yo r period , and draw yo r bre th, e ulum A kinder sa c begins with Death . Would you ascend to Heaven and bodiless dwell ? Or take your bodies honorless to Hell ?

ou v In Heaven y ha e heard no marriage is, u No white flesh tinder to yo r lecheries , Your male an d female tissue sweetly shaped

Su l u u . b imed away, and f rio s blood escaped

v ll u Great lo ers lie in He , the st bborn ones Infatuate of the flesh upon the bones ; S u t t prate, they rend each o her when they kiss,

. The pieces kiss again , no end to this

66/ [ai m Crow e Rans om But fi ifll u tched flaun s im in rbited p g o nice. Their flames w ere not more radiant than their ice. ' I dug in the quiet earth and wrought the tomb And nflde fllese lines to memo riae their doom

E PITAP H

’ ol ber s sight; Mu lder-cd lb li b Ib tall ull : ps and as y o sk . t Le M lie perilous and beautiful.

PAIN TED HEAD

By dark severance the apparition head Smiles from th e air a capital on no Column or a Platonic perhaps head On a canvas sky depending from nothing ;

Stirs up an old illusion of grandeur By tickling the instinct of heads to be Abso lute and to try decapitation And to play truan t from the body bush ;

But too happy and beautiful for those sorts Of head (homekeeping heads are happiest)

Of not dishono ring the faithful stem ;

Is nameless and has authored for the ev il Historian headhunters neither book Nor state and is di m -fore distinct from tart Heads with crowns an d guilty gallery heads Wherefore the extravagant dev ice of art Unh ousing by abstraction this once head Was capital irony by a lov ing hand That lcn ew th e no treas on of a head like this ;

Makes repentance in an unlov ely head For having v in egarly traduced th e flesh u Till , the h rt flesh recusing, the hard egg Is shrunken to its own deathlike surface ;

e And an image thus . The body bears the h ad (80 hardly one they terribly are two) Feeds and obeys and unto please what end ? Not to the glory of tyrant head but to

t u . The esta e of body . Bea ty is of body The flesh contouring shallowly on a head ' Is a rock -garden needing body s love And best bodiness to colorify

The big blue birds sitting and sea-shell flats th e And caves , and on iron acropolis To spread the hyacinthine hair and rear

The olive garden for the nightingales.

68/ [obn Ransom O Ibo Mississi i sbr ba rb sinister and o Ibo Obio f pp , f

e v il Tawny are the l a es turned but they st l hold, An d it is harven ; what shall this lan d produce ? ea hi a A m ger ll of kernels. runnel of juice;

e o . D clension l oks from our land , it is old Th o let eref re us assemble , dry , grey, spare, i l r And m ld as yel ow ai .

“ ' v I hear the croalr of a ra en s fun eral wing . The young men would be joying in the song

Of passionate birds ; their memories are not long. " " What is it thus rehearsed in sable ? Nothing . an d a l Trust not but the old endure, sh l be older scomful Than the beholder .

We pluck the spindling ears and gather the corn. " One spot has special yield ? On this spot stood " Heroes and drenched it with their on ly blood. And talk meets talk as ed roes from the horn ’ — are an r Of the hunter echoes the old m s a ts,

Ample are the chambers of their heam. H ere come the hunters, keepers of a rite; hourids lan lr mm o The horn , the , the c ursing by Straddled with archetypes of chivalry ; v t And the fox, lo ely ritualis , in flight ' Oflering his unearthly ghost to quarry ;

And v . the fields, themsel es to harry R u r . u u es me, ha vesters The treas re is f ll bronze W ou hich y will garner for the Lady, and the moon Could ti nge it no yellower than does this noon ; But u — grey will q ench it shortly the field, men , u ou Pl ck fast, dreamers ; prove as y amble slowly

Not less than men , not wholly .

u Bare the arm , dainty yo ths , bend the knees n u u u Under bro ze b rdens . And by an a t mn tone ou i v As by a grey , as by a green , y w ll ha e known ' Your famous Lady s image ; for so have these ; And if one say that easily will your hands M ore prosper in other lands ,

Angry as wasp-music be your cry then " r u hm Fo sake the Pro d Lady, of the of fire, o The look of snow , to the praise of a dwindled ch ir, Song of degenerate specters that were men ?

The sons of the fathers shall keep her, worthy of v What these have done in lo e .

u our a eth . Tr e, it is said of Lady, she g But ou not too see , if y peep shrewdly, she hath s ped ; u v v droo d Take no tho ght of her ser itors that ha e m . For we are nothing; and if one talk of death Wh r i ea y, the ribs of the ea th subsist fra l as a br th

If but God wearieth .

70/ Iobn Crow e Ransom Stanley Iobns on

A SONNET OF THE YELLOW LEAF

n n Gree be d the poplar trees by Cumberland , An d skyward lift white arms of sycamore ; And there we walked upon the meager san d While fast behind us d the door summer osed .

I analysed the wreckage of th e year ' mi t e u - u i The s t en l af, the leering b ck eye s b r al, Y dmo in 10 our p g cheeks ; when , , down there The river brought misfortunate memorial :

' I saw within the jet ting water s marge o u an d t Your s ft young face bl r out with age, af er ' in i u u Come wr kles in the m rror s q iet s rge, v v u To mo e the poplar lea es and me to la ghter .

But terror favored ur stare like the re stone yo g y , A trernor shook o uwe and the lor was on y myo pg g y g e. TO A PARK SWAN

a u I c ught yo r shadow in the deep pool, A u naked sword of bea ty in the dark. I And had read of the white swans at Coole, v And heard the printed oice of the Skylark.

The skies were lifted quick from this dull place; v Like Lohengrin I heard a sil er bell. ' I saw the maiden Leda s neat disgrace ; M v s — y ision beat historic wing and fell.

the i For what of the albatross and w ld swan, S kirting a black sea patch on a salty morn, — While I stand empty and the voices are gone ou u c And y cram pean ts and the white pop orn.

I v u ha e not known the swan song, tho gh my prayer Has beat with cygnet wings no slight emotion n ‘ l To find i anity itse f astare, A goitered goose upon a fostered

An d Eve S i S ? what of , em ramis, and appho — i It is enough the tale brings trag c hush. — There was a time but it was long ago !

Perhaps old Moses saw the burning bush.

72 Stanley [obm on

LINES FOR A TOMB

Recite the dangers chiselled on this face How I was clipped by scorn and maimed by lies ; How conscience hedged my soul ; law chilled my eyes; R cut opes my grace .

Recite therewith the flame of v ictories How out of blood and dust I gathered mirth ; And was content to find in flesh and earth S trange ecstasies .

But most recite what made me captive here, W u ' eighted with stone , wrapped in a sl ggard s peace, ' And ask of men if this is God s release hi Or only s fear .

LEE IN THE MOUNTAINS 1 865—18 70

W l a king into the shadows , walking alone Where the sun falls through the ruined boughs of loa ist ' fi Up to the president s of ce. Hearing the voices W Hut /J it i; Gen al Le e ! hisper, , er And strangely

Good mornin bo s . Hearing my own voice say , g, y ' l It i t lon ea . (Don t get up. Youare r y g th ll You will bane lon to wait Befo re e be . g

On tbere cold rtepr. The young have time to wait. ’ But soldiers faces under their tossing flags

Lift no more by any road or field ,

And I am spent with old wars and new sorrow .

Reprinted here from Tbc Fugitive for the first time. Wak ing the rocky patlg where steps decay And the ain t cracks and r p g m eats on the stone. lt is not General Leq young men lt is R v obert Lee in a dark ci ilian suit who walks, An outlaw fumbling for the latdua voice Com odin in a dm m w a fl g here no flg ies .

’ My father s house is taken and his hearth l e ft to the candle-drippin gs where the ashes Whid at - a dximney bra th on the cold stone. ' l can hardl remember m father s look l can not y y , Ans wer his voice as he calls farewell in the misty M nt a ou ing where riders g the r at gates . — — He m old then I was a ch ild his hand Held out for mine some da break , y snatched away,

And he rode out, a broloen man . Now let His lone rave kee mrer than c ress roots g p. yp , The vow l made bes ide him God too late Unseals to certain eyes th e drift f and a Of time and the ho pes o mm sacred cause. The fortune of the le es goes w ith the lan d Whose soos will keep it stilL My mother Told me much She sat amon the a n dles g ,

Fin erin the Memoirr now so e . g g , long unr ad And as my pen moves on across the page Her voice comes back a murmurin distillati , g Of old Vir mia times now faint an d g gone,

Th e hurt of all that was and cannot be.

Wby did my father write n know he saw History clutched as a w raith out of blow ing mist ton ues are loud and a lut of litt le souls Where g . g h ps at flie too much blood and the buming house

w ul v his sa but l shall not have mine . He o d ha e y. ' What l do is only a son s devoir

To l.et him e . a lod father. only sp ak The rest must pass to men who never knew But ( on a written page ) the strike of armies , And never heard the long Confederate cry Charge through the muzzling smoke or saw the bright

Eyes of the beardless boys go up to death . It is Robert Lee who writes with his father ' s hand

The rest must go unsaid and the lips be locked .

If all were told , as it cannot be told If all the dread opinion of the heart ul m Now co d speak, now in the sha e and torment Lashing the bound and trampled States

If a word were said , as it cannot be said

’ I see clear waters run in Virginia s Valley And in the house the weeping of young women Ri ses no more . The waves of grain begin . S The henandoah is golden with new grain . u R l The Bl e idge, crowned with a haze of ight,

u r . u Th nders no mo e The horse is at plo gh . The rifle R u u ’ et rns to the ch imney crotch and the h nter s hand . An d nothing else than this ? Was it for this That on an April day we stacked our arms ' Obed ient to a soldier s trust ? To lie u Gro nd by heels of little men , v e u ? Fore er maimed , def ated , lost , imp gned And was I then betrayed ? Did I betray ?

If it were said , as still it might be said If u run i it were said , and a word sho ld l ke fire,

Like living fire into the roots of grass , u u The s nken flag wo ld kindle on wild hills, e u The brooding h arts wo ld waken , and the dream S u tir like a crippled phantom nder the pines , And this torn earth would quicken into shouting Beneath the feet of ragged bands

76 Donald Davidron The pen Turns to the waiting pagq the sword

Bows to the rfi that a nkers and the silence.

Among these boys whose eyes lift up to mine

Da after da the courier with his summons y y,

Once more to mrrm der, now to mrren der all. Without arrm or men l stand but with know led e onl , g y I face wln t lon l sa w before others knew g , , ' Whm Pickeus mm stru med bach and I heard the

Cr of the Wildemess wounded blood with doom. y , y

At Richmond b the huddled fi re but still , y ,

The Presiden t shook his head. The mountains wait, I n id in the lon beat an d rattle of sie e , g g

l We sought the mm ntains and those peop e came . And Lee is in moun tains now be on d t , y Appomat ox, li sten ing loog for voices that never will spa k Again ; hearing the hoofbeats come an d go an d fade Without a stop without a brown hand liftin g The ten t-fla r a bu le a ll at dawn pm g , Or ever on the long wh ite road the flag '

ackson s uidr bri ades . I am alone i q g ,

Tra ed consen tin talren at last in mountains. pp , g, O

lt is not the bu le now or the lon ro ll beatin . g , g g fl e simple strolre of a dn pel bell forbids ll lo Th e hun fing dm reca s the nely mind. Ymmg mm the God of your fathers is a iust And merciful God Who in this blood onre shed

ll da s On your green altars meamres out a y . And measures out the grace Whereby alone we live: i And in His might He wa ts, u Brooding within the certit de of time , To bring this lost forsaken valor And the fierce faith undying An d the love quenchless m v To flower a ong the hills to which we clea e, u u u To fr it pon the mo ntains whither we flee, v Ne er forsaking , never denying ' His ch ildren and His children s children forever u Unto all generations of the faithf l heart .

SEQUEL OF APPOMATTOX

A whisper flies to the empty sleeve braidless t Pinned on the coa , And a rumor flushes the scarred young cheek u Of a man in buttern t .

The riders go past fenceless fields .

They meet by the m ined wall . And the gaunt horses c mp and stray

While voices mutter and drawl .

The crow starts from the blackberry bush, ’ But the window less house won t tell. v t Darkness watches the ra ished ga e.

No hand swings the fallen bell.

Till roads are white with columns Of phantom cavalry That move as by the dead ' s cool will

Without guns or infantry .

78/ Donald Davidson And the hoofbeats of many horsemen Stop and call from the grave : Remember l was our master , y ; Remember ouwere m v . y y sla e.

’ At midn ight a town s four comers Wake to the whistles keening ; The march of the dead is a long march. Certain i m a ts e ning.

Something for grandfathers to tell

Boys who clamor and climb . And wer ou tbere and did ou ride e y , y Witb tbe men of that old time?

TWILIGHT ON UNION STREET

In o the c ol of morning Andrew Jackson came, ou A y ng man riding on a horse of flame, Tom the reins to a hladr bo y , and strode i - oo u k- u H gh b ted and q ic oathed to co rt and code.

Of a sultry noontime General jackson stalked , ss il A grimne that put s ence where men talked . The fluttering of the gossips thinned and fled ; ad rson They knew where General J left his dead.

And now the twilight . History grows d im . traflic no him The leads, we more follow ;

he i u . In bronze r des, sal ting james K Polk, ’ His horse s rump turned to us in the smoke.

Donald Davidson / 79 ON A REPLICA OF THE PARTHENON

Why do th ey come ? What do they seek Who build but never read their Greek ? The classic stillness of a pool Beleaguered in its certitude By aimless motors that can make Only incertainty more sure ; And where the willows crowd the pure Expanse of clouds and blue that stood u b u Aro nd the ga les Athens wro ght, S - a u hop girls embr ce a plaster tho ght, ’ u And eye Poseidon s loins ngirt, And never heed the brandished spear ' Or feel the bright -eyed maiden s rage Whose gaze the sparrows v iolate; But t the sky drips its spec ral dirt,

to v . And gods , like men , soot re ert

is m n air. Gone the ild , the sere e

The golden years are come too late. u u v u P rs e not wisdom or irt e here, But i n what bl nd motio , what dim last Regret of men who slew their past i i Raised up th is bribe aga nst the r fate.

80/ Donald Danidt on

SANCTUARY

You u t m st remember his when I am gone , u s — ou l And tell yo r son for y will have tal sons, l And times will come when answers wi l not wait. Remember this : if ever defeat is black u Upon yo r eyelids , go to the wilderness e u u In the dr ad last of tro ble, for yo r foe ou are Tangles there, more than y , and paths strange ur To him , that are yo paths , in the wilderness , u ' And were yo r fathers paths , and once were mine.

You u l m st remember this, and mark it wel — As I have told it what my eyes have seen i And where my feet have walked beyond forgett ng . But tell it not often , tell it only at last W u u v hen yo r sons know what blood r ns in their eins . the And when danger comes , as come it will , Go as your fathers went with woodsman ' s eyes

cu u u . Un rsed , nflinching, st dying only the path

ou u . First , what y cannot carry , b rn or hide b Leave nothing here for in: to take or eat. u ou u B ry , perhaps , what y can s rely find

If good chance ever bring you back again . v ou Le el the crops . Take only what y need A - little corn for an ash cake, a little ' - Side meat for your three days wilderness ride. u u Horses for yo r women and yo r children,

ou u v . And one to lead , if y sho ld ha e that many Do u Then go . At once . not wait ntil v You see bi; great dust rising in the alley .

Then it will be too late . W ’ Go when you hear that he has crossed ill s Ford. Others will know and pass the word to you '

o A hoo t ow l s u . tap on the blinds , a cry at d sk

8 2 Donald Davidron Do not look back Youcan see your roof afire When ou rmch hi h roun d Ye d not k y g g . t o loo . Do not urn n t t Do o l . . ook back

Go further on . Go hi h Go dee . g . p

The lin e of this rail -fence east across the old -fields e a - t L ads to the c ne bot oms . Back of that, e-oak A whit tree beside a spring , the one l i Chopped with three blazes on the hil ward s de. ' ' I here pick up the trail l think it was buflalo h A pat once or an Indian road . You follow it three days along the ridge ea ff Until you r ch the spmce woods . Then a cli re where the trees are thidtest B aks, , and you look o ov a i Int a c e, and right cross , Ch lhowee

ou . Is suddenly there, and y are home at last Sweet sprin gs of mountain water in that cove

Run . u always Deer and wild t rkey range . u o Yo r kin, kn wing the way, long there before you Wi v ll ha e good fires and kettles on to boil ,

B u h o lter m o g she s reared and thick beds of balsa . Th ere in tall timber youw ill be as free As were your fathers once when Tryon raged li u R l In Caro na h nting egu ators , - W Or Tarleton rode to hang the old time higs . Some tell how in that valley young Sam Houston v l n his Oo- -te Li ed o g ago with brother, loo ka, Read ing Homer among the Cherokee ; And others say a Spaniard may have found it ’ n n u Far from De Soto s wa deri g t rned aside,

And left his legend on a boulder there . And some that this was a sacred place to all Old Ind ian tribes before the Cherokee n Men v Came to our eastern mountai s. ha e found Irm ges carved in bird -shapes the re and faces

Moulded in to the great kind look of gods .

Donald Davidson / 8 3 e Th se old tales are like prayers . I only know This is the secret refuge of our race a Told only from a f ther to his son , u u t u vow A tr st laid on yo r lips , as ho gh a

To generations past and yet to come . ' blufls v ou There, from the abo e, y may at last all ou Look back to y left, and trace His u u d st and flame, and plan yo r harrying ou u e If y wo ld gnaw his ravaging flank , or smit u u ridc H im in his gl t among the smo ldering s. ui ou lie Or else , forgetting r n , y may u On sweet grass by a mo ntain stream , to watch The last wild eagle soar or the last raven

Cherish his brood within their rocky nest, u Or see , when mo ntain shadows first grow long,

The last enchanted white deer come to drink.

HERMITAGE

W itten in Memo o And w Davidson 4 ion e r r ry f re , P e S ontbwest i inia and o Bed o d Caunt T nn ssee of V rg f f r y, e e

D d u R I . escen ing Chestn t idge

Now let my habitude be where the v ine u T mbles the sagging rails , and the late crow u Alone can challenge , whom for co ntersign u I open these ncrafty hands, u Unweaponed now , to seek pon the hill S tones where no filial tribute can be lost , ' Above the bones not laid in stranger s lands, But their own earth commingles with their dust

84/ Donald Davidson n fi To say for what beholde , to ful ll The unuttered vows ;

To hear the great wind in the twilight boughs Whirl down the sapless nations and the cold For their long-withering moment which conceives No more the great year that their dreams foretold ;

To walk where autumn heaps their promises n a to e And, unrege erate by false f ith, tr ad World -gazing prophecies as leaves to leaves ;

To let the sibylline fragments fly;

Then slow descen ding by the hidden road To mark the clearing and to kn ow the hearth Where one smoke stan ds agains t the frosty sky v And one axe rings abo e the frosty earth .

II . The Immigrant

I a nnot see him plaimthat far-o flsire Who the this western h l notched first oak on i l, And the bronze tablet cannot tell what fire — U rging the deep bone back to the viking wave v Kindled his immigrant eye an d dro e his will. But in the hearthside tale his mmo r grows As voice to voice into the folle chain melts kin ose And clamor of danger brings the lost cl .

’ Ih e the n links stave b stave. runes run on . so g y I summon him the man of flints and elts , p , The valle -rim Alert with gun an d axe. y l buflalo- Up ifts the wanderer on the path ,

First of the host of all who came like him,

fmm and CIII CI l a . Harried croft P . g en and str th

Donald Davidson / 85 - il. Now where the beech mast falls , no pibrochs wa Th e claymore rusts forgetting once how red

Cu . u The dew lay at lloden Old fe ds fail , And nev ermore the axe sings on the wall S ince age on age we fled , S u ince we together, Gael and Ga l , u u Palatine, H g enot , came in company l And washed the old bitter wars in the sa t sea.

III u -S . In Bl e tocking Hollow

m u Traveler, rest . The ti e of man r ns on ; Our home is far across the western wave

Back of whose steeps , forsaken and foregone, v v Lost continents ebb we ha e no power to sa e. The unendin g cycle breaks against this strand

Where blue tidewater laps our greener land .

us e And once the Virginian voyage brings cl ar, The hoodless eagles of the new -world skies u us u Towering , nshackle , and the n mberless deer u u i Confo nd the m sket , and the wild geese r se, H urling southward with inv incible wing

Omens unriddled for our journeying .

R u u o gh pilgrims, faring far , whose Hesper s S u v tooped by the piney woods or mo ntain co e, Or whom the Buffalo Gods to the perilous Lift of the Great Divide and the redwood grov e Spoke on and bid lay down from sea to sea

The sill and hearthstone of our destiny .

S v our u i a al ing wo nds, from the moody k ngs we c me, And even while kinsmen ' s shoulders raised and set u u us The first log tr e, betho ght of a name e our un re ret To s al the firm lips of g ,

86/ Donald Davidson Recite then while the inv iolate hearth -flame leaps llion fell u e ll How , and, ho nd at knee, r ca t ni v - Pla o c con erse. Let di e screech owl keep W the fat atch where maize crowds the forest wall. High by me talking waters grows the cane ; Wild b the salt-lick her the o y ds f rest game.

And let the graybeard say when men and maids “ Corne for bis blessing : This I leave to you! n dream came on th ese lades The India me in g , - r- And so me strange bird o beast word named me new.

Peace be to all who keep the wilderness. old Cms ed be the daild who lets the freeh pass.

LINES WRITT EN FOR ALLEN TATE ON HIS S IX TIETH ANNIVERS ARY

Th e sound of guns from beleaguered Donelson ’ - Up riv er flowed again to Ben folly s hearth . Year to familiar year we had heard it run W - dr out : orld round and ba , till Lytle cried Earth Is d but better is lan d and bes t goo . , t - v ea A land s ill fought for, e en in retr t For how else can Aeneas find his rest ' ” And the child hearken and dream at his grandsire s feet ?

" You said : Not Troy is falling now . Time falls And the v ictor lodcs himself in his v ictory

Donald Davidson / 87 Deem ing by that conceit he cancels walls

To step with Descartes and Comte beyond history . ' But that kildee s cry is more than phylon or image us For , deliberate exiles , whose dry rod Blossoms athwart the Long S treet ' s servile rage

And tells what pilgrimage greens the Tennessee sod.

So ou v i , Allen , y have kindled many an e en ng

When the creed of memory summoned us to your fire . fireli ht I remember that blazon , remember the g blessing ' ' Ow sle s u e R y plifted h ad , ansom s gray eye , ' u W u ou The Kent cky voice of arren , ntil that h sehold s Oaken being spoke like a plucked lyre And we turned as men who see where a battle unfolds

u u And as now , once more, I see yo ng faces t rn ' W kildee s cr here the battle is and a lonelier y, Exultant with your verses to unlearn ’ The bondage of their dead times sophistry ; M S They know , by ississippi , Thames , or eine, W u v hat city we b ild , what land we dream to sa e, What art and wisdom are the part of men u u v And are yo r m sic , gallant and gra e .

— — Among th eseb if with shortened breath l come ' i Bearing an old friend s garland in these l nes , ' Sca rred but surv iv ing the Telch ins lance and bomb To join the long procession where it winds Up to a mountain home No marshals but the Muses for this day Who in other years did not veil their sacred glance Or from you look askance ou off And will not cast y when you are gray.

8 8 Donald Davidson

i Th s is the place, the shrine of the sage , Who v ut li ed his last days with bea y for wage . ' r u Here s whe e the tree was long ago h mbled, out n And a space points us where gra ite has crumbled. i to The river is empty , and a w nd sweeps the s nes; ' t The stars are not whiter than freeboo er s bones .

SONNET

' - If it be night then , when the screech owl s call ' Div ides at once the moon s beam and the oak ; r If it be night , then , and not noon , the st oke May from the mined bell not last of all i t D sjoin the ime . There will be wind at night S i And stars . mall cries of disembodied b rds, Remembered echoes of forgotten words u v m l h Yo r lips ha e fra ed , will linger, and no ig t Come to discov er whether There or Here u in I see the dwarf bl e iris the stones , u Or when , with a q ick terror in the bones, Dismembered constellations float too near i i And my two eyes , conc se as lightning , se ze

The dense geometry of Pleiades .

90/ Alec Brock Stevenson Allen Tate

NON OMNIS MORIAR

I ask you: Has the Singer sung The drear quintessence of the Song ? o e j ohn Ford knew m re than I of d ath , e John Ford to d ath has passed along .

I afi yoq as the Sin ger said

Marlowe wen t muttering to death WM he had with an d done song hmt.

And so l s eak no other wo rd p , as k u Nor where go the ja nty throng, For laughter frames the lips of death

Du th frames th e Singer and the Song .

DEATH OF LITT LE BOYS

W t e hen lit le boys grown patient at last , w ary , Su r h e ur r ender t eir eyes imm as ably to the night, The event will rage terri fic as the sea;

The ir bodies fill a crumbling room with light .

Thm ou l e r y wi l touch at the b dside , to n in two, Go ld curls now deftly intricate with gray

i i fi s Rep rinted here from TI» Fug t ve for the r t time.

Allen Ta e / 9l As the Windowpane extends a fear to you l all From one pee ed aster drenched with the wind day.

And over his chest the covers in the ultimate dream W ill mount to the teeth , ascend the eyes, press back — The locks while round his sturdy belly gleam Su t spended brea hs , white spars above the wreck

u u Till all the g ests, come in to look, t rn down r u f Their palms , and deli i m assai ls the clif ou u i Of Norway where y ponder , and yo r l ttle town R f eels like a sailor drunk in a rotten skif .

The bleak sunshine shrieks its chipped music then

Out to the milkweed amid the fields of wheat. There is a calm for you where men and women

Un roll the chill precision of moving feet .

THE MEDITERRANEAN

nem das n ens sex ma ne dolormn ? Q fi , g ,

Where we went in the boat was a long bay i l n A sl ngshot wide, wal ed in by towering sto e u ' Peaked margin of antiq ity s delay , ' And we went there out of time s monotone

Where we went in the black hull no light moved But u - the e v a g l l white winged along f ckless wa e, u but The breeze , nseen fierce as a body loved, That boat drove onward like a willing slave

92/ Allen Tate Where we went in the small ship the seaweed Parted an d ave to us the murmus in sho re g g , And we made feast and in our secret need Devw red the very plates Aen eas bore :

' ' Ihe reen coast that ou thunder-toss ed would win g y , , , Drop saiLand hasten ing to drink all night Eat dish and bow l to take that sw eet land in !

Where we feasted and caroused on the san dless

Pebbles aflectin our da of irac , g y p y, What prophecy o f eaten plates could landless Wanderers fulfil by the ancien t sea ?

We for that time might taste the famous age Eternal here yet hidden from our eyes When lust of power un did its stufiless rage;

in a wineski bore earth s aradise. They . m p

Let us lie down once mo re by the breath ing side Of Ooean where our live , forefathers sleep As if the Known Sea still were a month wide Atlantis howls but is no longer steep !

What countr shall we con uer what i y q , fa r land Unman our conquest an d locate our blood? ' We ve cracked the bemispheres with careless han d ! from the Gates of Hercules we flood Now,

Weaw ard e l the barbarous brine , w stward ti l Whelms us to the tired lan d where tasselin co m g , Fat beans ra es sw eeter than a . g p musc dine

Rot on the vine z in that land were we born. AENEAS AT WASHINGTON

I myself saw furious with blood u A Neoptolem s , at his side the black tridae, the u u Hecuba and h ndred da ghters , Priam

Cut . down , his filth drenching the holy fires

In that extremity I bore me well , u u A tr e gentleman , valoro s in arms , Distin teres ted u and hono rable . Then fled That was a time when ci vilization Run by the few fell to the many, and u a Crashed to the sho t of men , the clang of rms u u Cold vict aling I seized , I hoisted p u k The old man my father pon my bac , In the smoke made by sea for a n ew world — Sav ing little a mind imperishable u u If time is , a love of past things ten o s

As the hesitation of reced in g love .

(To the reduction of uncitied littorals We u bro ght chiefly the vigor of prophecy , Our hunger breeding calculation And fixed triM phs )

I saw the thirsty dove i In the glowing fields of Troy , hemp ripen ng u And tawny corn , the thicken ing Bl e Grass

All lying rich forever in the green sun .

I see all things apart , the towers that men

c . Contrive I too ontrived long , long ago u o Now I demand little . The sing lar passi n Abides its object and consumes desire

In the circling shadow of its appetite . r u The e was a time when the yo ng eyes were slow, firstlin Their flame steady beyond the g fire ,

94/ Allen Tat e I stood in flie raimfar from bome at nightfall B dse Potoma the reat Dome lit the water y q g , The my blood had built l knew no more While screecho wl whistled his new delight

Stuck in the wet mire Four thousa nd leagues from th e ninth buried city I thou ht of Tro what we had built her for g y, .

ODE TO THE CONFEDERATE DEAD

Row after row with strict impunity The headstones n e to n yield their am s the eleme t, The wind whirrs without recollecti on ; In the riven trougts the splayed leav es Pile up, of nature the casual sacrament To the sa sonal eternity of death ; Then driv en by the fierce scrutiny t eaven to their election the vast breath in , The a u h rumour f t y o g the o mortali y .

Autumn is desolation in the plot Of a thousand acres w here these memories grow From the inexhaustible bodies that are not ed row Dead , but fe the grass after rich row. Think of the autumns that have come an d gone ! m v a A bitious No ember with the humors of the ye r, W a u a v ith a p rtic lar ze l for e ery slab ,

Allen Tete [95 Staining the uncomfortable angels that rot

On the slabs, a wing chipped here , an arm The brute curiosity of an angel ' s stare ur ou t T ns y , like hem, to stone, Transforms the heav ing air Till plunged to a heav ier world below You shift your sea -space blindly a u l H ving, t rning ike the blind crab.

Dazed by the wind , only the wind e v u The l a es flying, pl nge

You know who hav e waited by the wall w The t ilight certainty of an animal , Those midnight restitutions of the blood You — i i know the imm t gable pines , the smoky frieze the u : ou Of sky, the s dden call y know the rage, u The cold pool left by the mo nting flood , u Z Of m ted eno and Parmenides . You who have waited for the angry resolution u u Of those desires that sho ld be yo rs tomorrow, You know the un important shrift of death And praise the v ision And praise the arrogant circumstance Of those who fall R u u ank pon rank, h rried beyond decision walL Here by the sagging gate, stopped by the

S i av eeing, see ng only the le es un i Flying, pl ge and exp re

u u T rn yo r eyes to the immoderate past, Turn to the inscrutable infantry rising — Demons out of the earth they will not last.

S l S u . tonewal , tonewall , and the s nken fields of hemp

N i u Run. Shiloh, Antietam , a vem Hill , B ll

96/ Allen Tm

And in between the ends of distract ion W u s en i lation u aits m te p , the patient c rse u s That stones the eyes , or like the jag ar leap u For his own image in a j ngle pool, his victim.

What shall we say who have knowledge ? Carried to the heart Shall we take the act v ? S l u u To the gra e ha l we, more hopef l, set p the grave ? In the house The ravenous grave ?

Leave now The shut gate and the decomposing wall u u The gentle serpent, green in the m lberry b sh, Riots with his tongue through the hush Sentinel of the grave who counts us all !

MR . POPE

When Alexander Pope strolled in the ci ty i Strict was th e gl nt of pearl and gold sedans . Ladies leaned out more out of fear than pity ' ' ' For Pope s tight back was rather a goat s than man s.

Often one thinks the urn should have mo re bones v u Than skeletons pro ide for speedy d st, urn l The gets hol ow , cobwebs brittle as stones

Weave to the funeral shell a frivolous rust.

And he who dribbled couplets like a snake Coiled to a lithe precision in the sun i ou Is miss ng . The jar is empty ; y may break

It only to find that Mr. Pope is gone .

98/ Allen Tal e What requisitions of a verity Pra npted the wit an d rage between his teeth One a nnot sa y . Aroun d a crooked tree A moral climbs w me h name should be a wreath.

LAST DAYS OF ALICE

mammoth but not fat, Declines upon her lost and twilight age ; Abov e in the dozing leaves the grinning cat Quivers forever with his abstract rage :

Whatever light swayed on the perilous gate o v F re er sways, nor will the arching grass, u t u a Ca ght when the world clat ered , ndul te

- In the deep suspension of the looking glass.

Bright Alice ! always pondering to gloze The spoiled cruelty she had mean t to say Gat es learnedly down her airy nose

no i . At th ng, nothing thinking all the day

Turned absent-minded by infinity v u u v She cannot mo e nless her do ble mo e. ’ The All-Alice of the world s entity her v Smashed in the anger of hopeless lo e,

for herse lf who as an earthl n Im e , y twai , Pouted to ioin her two in a sweet one ; No more the second lips to kiss in vain r e e th rou h the lass e The first she b ok . plung d g g alon

Allm Tal c [99 v Alone to the weight of impassi ity , n I cest of spirit , theorem of desire , W ou f the sea ith t will as chalky cli fs by , Empty as the bod iless flesh of fire :

All v space, that hea en is a dayless night, A nightless day driven by perfect lust v For acancy , in which her bored eyesight

S tares at the drowsy cubes of human dust . — We too back to the world shall nev er pass u u - Thro gh the shattered door , a d mb shade harried crow d t u i e Being all infini e, f nct on d pth and mass W u o ithout fig re, a mathematical shr ud — Hurled at th e air b lessed without sin ! o flesh us to Your w rath O God f our , return , Let us be evil could we enter in t t ! Your grace, and fal er on the s ony path

100/ Allen Ta u

No head knows where its rest is Or may lie down with reas on ' When war s usurping claws Shall take the heart escheat Green field in burning season ' n v To stai the wee il s jaws .

The southern summer dies Evenly in the fall : We raise our tired eyes

Into a sky of glass , u Bl e, empty , and tall Without tail or head Where burn the equa l laws For Balaam and his ass A v i e bo e the nvalid d ad , Wh o cannot lift their jaws .

When was it that the summer (Daylong a liquid light)

An d - a child , the new comer,

Bathed in the same green spray, Could neither guess the night ? The summer had no reason ; u Then , like a primal ca se It had its timeless day Before it kept the ' Of time s engaging jaws .

Two men of our summer world Descended wind ing hell And when their shadows curled They fearfully confounded The vast concl udin g shell : S i topp ng, they saw in the narrow Light a centaur pause his u And gaze, then asto nded d widi a notdied arrow,

M II. AUTU N

It had an autumn smell

An d that was how l knew

That as dow n a well : I was no longer young; M li s were numb y p and blue, The air was like fin e sand

' In a butch er s stall Or pumice to the tongue And when l raised my han d

I stood in the empty hall.

The round ceiling was high And the gray light like shale u Thin , cr mbling, and dry No rug on the bare floor Nor any carved detai l To which the eye cmrld glide I counted along the wall Door after closed door Through which a shade might

To the cold and empty hall .

v I will lea e this house , I said , There is the autumn weather v e Here , nor li ing nor d ad ; The lights bu rn in the town

f Then on the bare loor,

I walked years down Towards the front door At the end of the empy hall. — The door was false no key

Or lock, and I was caught In the house ; yet I could see I had been born to it For miles of runn ing brought Me back where I began . I saw now in the wall A door open a slit And a fat grizzled Come out into the hall

As in a moonlit street Men meeting are too shy To check their hurried feet But raise their eyes and squint As through a needle ' s eye

Into the faceless gloom, My father in a gray shawl Gave me an unseeing glint And entered another room ! I stood in the empty ball

And watched them come and go

From one room to another, — Old men , old women slow,

Familiar ; girls , boys ; I saw my downcast mother l in st reetd othes C ad her , u l Her bl e eyes long and sma l, Who had no look or voice For him whose vision froze Him in the empty hall

W T R III . IN E

- Goddess sea born and bright, Return into the sea

104/ Allen Tal e

The pacing animal Surveys the j ungle cove And slicks his slithering wiles To turn the venereal awl

In the liv id wound of love .

Beyond the undertow The rigid madrepore ’ Resists the winter s flow e u H adless, nageing oak

That gives the leaf no more . Wilfully as I stood Within the thickest grove e h I seiz d a branch , w ich broke

Drip down upon my toe We are the men who died

Of self inflicted woe , Lovers whose stratagem " Led to their suicide . I touched my sanguine hair And felt it drip above i Their brother who , l ke them, Was maimed and did not bear

The living wound of love .

P R G IV. S IN u Irritable spring, inf se Into the burning breast Your combustible j uice That as a liquid soul ' Shall be the body s guest i but t Who l ghts , cannot s ay To comfort this unease

Which , like a dying coal ,

1 06/ Allen Tm Reaching for the sun Of the lan d where l was born

Us with an ancient pun All dying for the hand Of the mother of silences.

In time of bloody war ? Who will know the time Is it a new sprin g nar i il Within me t ming ch l, u m Talking . or j st a mi e,

Thin Jack ~an do j illing seas Without the human will ? i Its up “s at the flood , Mother of silences !

It burns us each alone

Tm / 107 Come m , old wo an , save Your sons who have gone down Into the burning cave : e Come, mother, and l an At the window wi th your son And gaze through its light frame These fifteen centuries Upon the shirking scene W here men , blind , go lame

Then , mother of silences ,

S t peak, tha we may hear ;

Listen , while we confess That we conceal our fear; R us egard , while the eye Discerns by sight or guess W hether , as sheep foregather

Upon their crooked knees , W e have begun to die ; W u e hether yo r kindness, moth r, l Is mother of si ences .

THE SWIMMERS

C : Mont ome ount S ENE g ry C y, K n tu k al l 1 1 1 e c y, [ y 9

tu le : i Ken cky water, c ar springs a boy flee ng u u sun To water nder the dry Kent cky , u him in His fo r little friends in tandem with , see g

1 08 Allen Tare

We scuttled down the bank below a ledge And marched still - legged in our commo n fright ' Along a hog -track by the riffle s edge :

Into a world where sound shaded the sight Dropped the dull hooves again ; the horsemen came but Again , all the leader . It was night

Momently and l feared : eleven same u - n unmembered un Jes s Christe and made, W hose Corpse had died again in dirty shame.

v The bank then le elling in a speckled glade, We stopped to breathe abov e the swimming-ho le ; I gazed at its reticulated shade

R u l ecoiling in bl e fear, and felt it ro l Over my ears and eyes and lift my hair

Like seaweed tossing on a sunk atoll .

I rose again . Borne on the copper air A distant v oice green as a funeral wreath " Against a grave : That dead nigger there .

The melancholy sheriff slouched beneath A giant sycamore ; shaking his head He plucked a sassafras twig and picked his teeth

t We come too late . He spoke to the ired dead Whose ragged shirt soaked up the viscous flow

Of blood in which It lay discomfited.

A butting horse -fly gave one ear a blow l off f And g anced , as the sherif kicked the rope Loose from the neck and hooked it with his toe

1 10/ Allen Tal e Away from the blood —l looked back down the slope were one to r The friends g that I had hoped g eet. A sin gle horseman came at a slow lope

' And pulled up at the hanged man s horny feet; The sheriflnoosed the feet, the other end Th e stranger tied to his pouunel in a neat

' l - 1 S ip knot . saw the Negro s body bend And fish - i r v straighten . as a l ne cast t ans erse u u Yields to the c rrent that it must s btend .

The sheriff’ s Goddamn was a murmured curse Not for the dead but for the blinding dust That boxed the cortege in a cloudy hearse

And dragged it towards our town . I knew I must Not stay till twilight in that silent road ; S liding my bare feet into the warm crust , l ho pped the ston ecrop like a pantin g toad M l v u outh Open , fol owing the hea ing clo d That floated to the court -house square its load

Of limber corpse that took the sun for shroud . Th ere were three figures in the dying sun

Whose light were company where three was crowd .

My breath crackled the dead ai r like a shotgun ff As. sheri and the stranger disappearing , 1 run Th e faceless head lay still . could not

le w but o . A u Or alk , sto d lone in the p blic c aring i v all Th s pri ate thing was owned by the town ,

Though never cla imed by us within my hearing.

Allen Tm / m Merrill Moore

Gather noble death u And po r it on our land. Make the wooden walls W l e l manned .

With the ripe grain the t Fill ear hen pots . Gather all the grapes

And apricots .

Drive in the coarse swin e u v And kill the fat yo ng bee es . Scatter sweet spices v And bay lea es .

Brin g white fleeces And cloths of purple To lay at the feet

Of the Sybil.

1 12/ Merrill Mom

For somehow He managed entirely to omit m The most i portant facts in accomplishing it, Where He got the ladder to reach the stars l M And how he lighted them , especia ly ars, And what he hung them on when he got them

i u u . Eternally d stant, l mino s in the air

R R : GOD ITS R LITE ATU E THE , ITUAL

Something strange I do not comprehend Is this : I start to write a certain v erse But by the time that I come to its end Another has been written that is worse I Or possibly better than the one meant,

l ff . And certain y not the same, and di erent

— I cannot understand it I begin I A poem and then it changes as write, Never have I written the one I thought I v out I Ne er gone the door that came in , Until I am perplexed by this perv erse v Manner and behav ior of my erse .

’ I ve never written the poem that I intended

The poem was always different when it ended.

1 1 4/ Merrill Moore TO A TIRBD CLERK

Do not dc air thou h ou are cli ed with chains p , g y pp

tt ru in la l. Of pe y d dg g, c ngor and grime wi ll hea ' In lon eliness your city s bones of steel

Wil u reen o ten don ed i l r st, g ; only the cool ra ns Will whisper down old thunder- roads of trains; And centuries lo ng as today Nineveh counts Will fret the marbles of old soda~ founts W - o M m ds which now are hotel window w es.

a m m whm froa has t i e It y y , glittering h nn d The la w m h a e i firm ide, by w t r ng yellow N bronze an ned v M , shall note where mystery car es Your M r e i a s wo n name, and dr ad the r wiz rd sires,

l ' i As-i weir a - e h t smrves fo m n cked horses, w ile heir

M d hair are strung upon the wind .

Will: / l l ) THE WATCHERS

' e u Ben ath the s per market s neon glow , scufflin The goods high piled, the hands , the g di e u Beneath the asphalt of o tside street , coffin ed row The parking cars ; stone in a , i i hoe Holding the r tools, an arrow po nt, a . r u The dead sleep by thei pots of fig red clay .

il our . The h ls beyond , link with yesterday

a us l . That w tch now , once saw these ong ago

li v S Dark in the twi ght, green in aried pring, In Autumn ’ s war paint—soil too thin to plow l - H i ls that recall the tom toms whispering, u u You lifted p yo r feather crest of trees .

Chan geless abov e mound builder myste ries . What will you see five centuries from now ?

u . Yo r face is blown , an apparition , past R u u eno nce the night as I , and we m st meet r As wea y nomads in this desert at last ,

Borne in th e lost procession of these feet.

AUBADE FOR HOPE

Dawn : and foot on the cold stair treading or Thump of wood on the unswept hearth -stone is i u Comment on the margin of consc o sness , t thumb A dir y s mear by the printed page .

u - : h e Th mb smear nay , ot er, for the bless d light e u u Acclaim d th s , as a d cal progress by cur in The scared , wakes them that wallowed u m The nai ed faceless appetite of dream.

h u out t u All nig t, the ice so ght the rot en bo gh t i e In sleep hey heard . And now they st r , as ast Beyond the formal gleam of lan dscape sun tru l Has s ck the senatorial hooded hil .

Light ; the groaning stair ; the match afiame ' l The Negro woman s hand , horned gray with co d, —o h e t That lit the wood , merciless gr a eyes Blank as the sea— I name some things that shall

t o As voices speaking from a far her ro m, Mufiled e us i , besp ak yet for t me and hope For Hope that like a blockhead grandma ever

Above the ash and spittle croaks and leans .

1 18/ Robert Per m Warren E v madg iller i v n y the who l es in the ditch and grie es, e H aring the horns on the highway, and the tires scream

He tries to remember , and tries , but he cannot seem u v To remember what it was he buried nder the lea es.

neamed o r By the lag on, nea the carnivorous orchid , e e u skull Pirat s hide tr as re and mark the place with a , n lose the u ul The map. and roar in p bs with a skinf , In v a but De on or B rbados ; remember what they hid.

But ? r what was it But he is too ti ed to ask it. An old worm n mumbling her gums like incertitude ? u r who The pro d st anger asked the match by the park wood, Or the child who cros sed the park every day with the lunch basket ?

a no r ula u He c nnot say , form te the delicio s ' o t convo lunon e And sm o h of terror, like whipped cr am , m ut r u e e Nor the o h , o nd d and white for the lyric scr am W n v e u hich he e er h ard, tho gh he sti ll tries, nodding and

e u : ea w m His tr as re for y rs do n streets of conte pt and trouble, u e m Hugged nd r his coat, a ong sharp elbows and rows Of eyes hieratic like foetuses in jars

n ttin a e u . Or he nursed it u wi g, like a child sle p with a ba ble

Happiness : what the heart wants . That is its fond ’ an d e . Definition , wants only the p ace in God s eye Our flame bm ds in that draft ; and that is why He clutched at the object bright on the bottom of the murky n po d.

Robert Pm Wm m9 : u u Peace, all he asked past despair and past the nco th u Violation , he snatched at the fleeting hem , tho gh in error; u ' Nor gest red before the mind s sycophant mirror, his u Nor made the refusal and spat from the secret side of mo th .

u ou Tho gh a tree for y is a tree , and in the long D u u u ark, no sibilant t mor inside yo r enormo s u u Head , tho gh no wal ls confer in the silent ho se, u ’ Nor the eyes of pict res protrude, like snail s , each on its prong,

v be u r Yet en y him, for what b ried is bu ied u v - un By the c l ert there , ti ll the boy with the air g the v In spring , at violet , comes ; nor is e er known

To go on any vacations with him, lend money , break bread .

v u n And en y him , for tho gh the seaso s stammer

u field- Past p lse in the yellow throat of the lark, S i - t ll memory drips, a pipe in the cellar dark, u s And in its h tch and hole, as when the earth get warmer,

v i t i The cold heart hea es l ke a oad , and l fts its brow With that bright jewel you have no use for now ; W u u hile p zzled yet, despised with the attic j nk, the letter

v u an d u dr . Names o er yo r name, mourns nder the y rafter

ORIGINAL SIN : A SHORT STORY

i u Nodding, its great head rattling l ke a go rd , u stone And locks like seaweed str ng on the stinking , u ou v e The nightmare st mbles past, and y ha e h ard It fumble your door before it whimpers and is gone It acts like the old hound that used to sn ume your

moan .

1 20 Robert Perm Warren

You v v ha e mo ed often and rarely left an address , e th e e u And h ar of deaths of friends with a sly pl as re , s e 0 A sen e of cl ansing and h pe , which blooms from distress; But u u it has not died , it comes , its hand childish, ns re, u Cl tching the bribe of chocolate or a toy youused to treasure .

ou but It tries the lock ; y hear , simply drowse

There is nothing remarkable in that sound at the door. Later you may hear it wander the dark house Like a mother who rises at night to seek a childhood picture Or it goes to the backyard and stands like an old horse cold in

the pasture .

PURSUIT

u um The h nchback on the corner, with g and shoelaces , u u Has his own wisdom and pleas res , and may not be l red vu ou u To di lge them to y , for he has merely end red Your appeal for his sympathy and your kind purd’tases And wears infirmity but as the general who tum s u a Apart , in his famo s old greatco t there on the hi ll At u u l d sk when the rapt re and cannonade are stil , u u To m se withdrawn from the dead , from his gorgeo s alterns ; i Or stares from the thicket of his familiar pain , l ke a fawn ou u c is That meets y a moment , wheels , in imperio s inno ence

gone .

e W u Go to th clinic . ait in the o ter room Where like an old possum the snag- nailed hand will hump u u On its knee in m rdero s patience , and the pomp lum Of pain swells like the Indies , or a p .

1 2 2/ Robert Per m Warren And there ou will stand as on the Roman hill y , , Snrnned b ead i withdrawn aze and severe sha e y g p , Th e first harbarian v ictor stood to gape At the sacrificial father white- i a robed , st ll , An d even the fev erish old Jew stares stem with authority Tiflyou fed lflre one who has come too late or improperly

clothed to a art . , p y

' Ih e docmr will take ou now He is burl and clean y . y ; Ii sten in like lover or wo rshi er ben ds at our heart g, p , y ; But a nnot make out jmt what it tries to impart ; u n an So smiles ; says yo simply eed a ch ge of scene. Of soen of solace : q therefore Florida, Where Ponce de Leon clanked amo n th e lilies g , Where white sails skit on blue eavort like fillies and , And der l n lit the shoul g eams in the moo corridor . A dran e of ov : if ov IS a ro in u g l e l e g p g Godward, tho gh blind , No matter what crev ice crann chink bri ht in dark the ale , y, , g , p

tentacle fin d.

Its oolor passion but its n edt a question ; Consider even tin t girl the other guests shun On beach at bar in bed fo r she ma know , . , y 1h e secret ou are seekin after all y g, ; Or the child ou humhl i e y y sit by, exc t d and curly . ' That screams on the s ore at the sea s stmlit hurl burl h y y,

Till the mother calls i ts name toward n i h tfall . , g Till you sit alone : in the dire mefi diang off lrelan d in fury ’ f s ume tooth dawn less sea heave salt rimes the lookout s O p and , devout e e y . — Till you sit alone which is the beginning of error Behind youthe mus ic and lights of th e great hotel : S i a olut on , perhaps, is public, desp ir personal, mirro r But history held to your breath clouds like a . Th ere are man states and towns in a e y , them , and f c s,

Robert Perm WM / 1 23 But l meanwhile , the little old lady in black , by the wal , Who ou u admires all the dancers , and tells y how j st last fall u Her h sband died in Ohio , and damp mists her glasses ; She n bli ks and croaks, l ike a toad or a Norn , in the horrible

light , t e u ut small And rat l s her cr tch , which may p forth a bloom,

perhaps white .

THE BALLAD OF BILLIE POT TS

(When I was a ch ild I heard this story from an old lady who was a relative of mine . The scene, according to her version , was in the section of Western Kentucky known as Between the R ” Cu ivers , the region between the mberland and the Tennes

. r v the see Years later, I came ac oss another ersion in a book on u v R - In history of the o tlaws of the Ca e Inn ock, or the Cave R ock . The name of Bardstown in the present account refers to u Bardstown , Kent cky , where the first race track west of the u mo ntains was laid out late in the Eighteenth Century . )

Big Billie Potts was big and stout

In the land between the rivers . His shoulders were wide and his gut stuck out Like a croker of nubbins and his holler and shout Made the bobc at shiver and the black jack leav es

In the section between the rivers . u u u He wo ld slap yo on your back and la gh .

Bi g Billie had a wife , she was dark and little

In the land between the rivers , An d v cle er with her wheel and clever with her kettle, But she nev er said a word and when she sat

1 2 4/ Robert Pen n Warren

: e ! Big Billie said Git down , friend , and take yore ase u ou u ou his He wo ld slap y on yo r back and set y at table .

ou ( Leaning and slow , y see them move In massi ve passion colder than any love Their lips move but you do not hear the words Nor trodden twig nor fluted irony of birds Nor hear the rustle of the heart e t That, h ave and settle, gasp and star , Heaves like a fish in the ribs ' dark basket borne W ’ est from the great water s depth whence it was torn .

i v but Their names are l ke the lea es , are forgot — The slush and swill of the world ' s great pot ' o That f amed at the range s lip , and spilled i u un fuhilled L ke q icksilver across green baize, the e l Disparate glitter , gl am, wi d symptom , seed u : Fl ng in the long wind silent, proceed e - Past m adow , salt lick , and the lyric swale ;

Enter the arbor, shadow of trees , fade, fail . )

Big Billie was sharp at swap and trade u th e And co ld smell the nest where egg was laid , He could read and cipher and they called him squire

In the land between the rivers . And he added up his money while he sat by the fire

And sat in the shade while folks sweated and strove, For he was the one who fatted and throve t In the section be ween the rivers . " ou k u Thank y indly , sir, Big Billie wo ld say When the man in the black coat paid him at streak of day And swung to the saddle and was ready to go And rode away and didn ' t know

That he was already as good as dead , For at midnight the message had been sent ahead " Man . in black coat, riding bay mare with star

1 26/ Robert Per m Warren ’ Ih ere w ill be an en d but ou cannot y see it. Th ey will not nam their faoea to youthough youcalL Who ace a lo ic mercileas as li ht p g g , Whose law is their lon shadow on the rass g g , Sun at the back ace ass ; p , p , And passin g nod in that glacial delirium While the tight sky shudders like a drum An d speeulation ras ps its idiot nails Acmas the dr slate where oudid th e mm y y .

’ The m swer is m dse back of the book but di a e p ge is gone. randm mid ou t l u but And g y to el the tr th she is dead . heedlefi weir And , hairy faces fixed u a u s now v Beyond yo r c ll or q e tion , they mo e n at t Under the i f ua e weight of their wisdom , e for e u u n Pr cious but the pr cio sness of their b rde , S a d an d a e as as e ainted and g the hairy , who b ar t ou t t f knea His ory like b nd faggots , wi h s if ; And breathe the immaculate climate where The en la f i e luc t is l fted , lank b ard fingered , by no breeze, R a u ou m a es : apt in the f b l s co pl cency of fr co, vase , or frieze

And the tes dcla of the fathers hang dow n like old lace. )

Little Billie was full of piss and vinegar And full of a p as a maple tree A d u k id s —c e u n f ll of as a lop ar d p p, ' So one en u night wh the r nner didn t show up, " " alle t le s S u Big Billie c d Lit and aid , addle p, And nodded toward the man was taking his sup

With his beh un latd ied and his feet to the fire . " i v mo tr Big Billie sa d. Gi e A s a y , ' Fer th is feller takes the South Fork and Amos ll be B l s and o Than a dy or Bu ter , Am s is sly ' And slick as a varmint, and I don t deny

Robert Perm Wm [ 1 27 ' l lak bizness with Amos fer he s one you kin trust

In the section between the rivers , ’ And hit looks lak they s mighty few . " l u u Amos wi l split p fair and sq are .

Little Billie had something in his clabber -head

In addition to snot, and he reckoned he knew

How to skin a cat or add two and two . 50 long before the sky got red v O er the land between the rivers, He hobbled his horse back in the swamp An d squatted on his hams in the morning dew and damp An d scratched his stomach and grinned to thi nk How his Pap would be proud and his Mammy glad To know what a thriving boy they had

In the section betw een the rivers . i M He always was a good boy to his darl ng ammy .

u (Think of yo rself riding away from the dawn, Think of yourself and th e unnamed ones who had gone oodb e oodb Before, riding, who rode away from g y , g ye, ' bello u i And toward , toward Time s nw nking eye ;

- u And like the cicada had left , at cross roads or sq are, u The old shell of self, thin , ghostly , transl cent, light as u u r At dawn riding into the c rtain of nwhispering g een, Away from the v igils and voices into the green

W u e . orld , land of the innocent bo gh , land of the l af

Think of your face green in the submarine light of the leaf.

u u - Or th ink of yo rself cro ched at the swamp edge, Dawn - silence past last owl -hoot and not yet at day -verge

- u a . First bird stir , titmo se or drowsy w rbler not yet

You touch the grass in the dark and your hand is wet . ’ Then light : and you wait for the stranger s hoofs on the soft

trace, ' And under the green leaf s translucence the light bathes you!

face .

1 28/ Robert Per m Warren

’ ’ For Billie didn t trust the stranger s finger And didn ’ t admire the stranger ’s face ' And didn t like the climate of the place,

So ~ u he turned and high tailed p the trace, With blood on his shirt and snot in his nose ' An d his pee in pants for he d wet his clothes , the u And stranger j st sits and admires how he goes , " Wh u And says , y, that boy wo ld do right well Bardstown track

You a his but M fool s id Pap , his ammy cried To see the place where the gore-blood dried R u ’ o nd the little hole in her darling s hide. She wiped his nose and patted his head , But Pappy barred the door and Pappy said , "That bastard has maybe got some friends

In the section between the rivers , ' And you can t say how sich bizn ess ends ’ u u And a man ain t s re he kin tr st his neighbors, ' Fer thar s mortal spite fer him sweats and labors " v v E en here between the ri ers . ' as k t He didn t Lit le how he felt, " ' But u said , Two h ndred in gold s in my money belt, And take the roan and the brand - new saddle blubberen skeedaddle And stop yore and , And the next time you try and pull a trick ' ' Fer God s sake don t talk but do hit quick . 80 Little Billie took his leave And left his Mammy th ere to grieve And left his Pappy in Old Kain tuck And headed West to try his luck v And left the land between the ri ers , R M u For it was oll , isso ri ,

R M u . It was oll , roll , isso ri And he was gone nigh ten long year And never sent word to give his Pappy cheer

1 30/ Robert Per m Warren Nor wet en ink for h is Mamm dear p in y .

For tl l i n v o stafl Lit e Bi l e e er was much of a hand with a pen .

Th u ( ere is always another co ntry and always another place. e Ther is always another name and another face . are ou And the name and the face you, and y n e The ame and the face, and the str am you gaze into W w ill sho the adoring face , show the lips that lift to you ou e f As y l an with the implacable thirst of sel , As e u you l an to the image which is yo rself, set li u To the p to lip, fix eye on b lging eye, na u To drink of the stream but of yo r deep identity , But e l water is wat r and it f ows, Under the image on the water the water coils and goes

And its own beginning and its end only the water knows .

There are man y countries and the rivers in them - e an se e t Cumb rl d , Tennes e, Ohio, Colorado , P cos , Li tle Big

Horn ,

And R Mi so . oll, s uri , roll

But there is only water in them .

And in the new coun try and in the new place The eyes of the new friend will reflect the new face And his mouth will speak to frame The syllables of the new name And the name is you and is the agitation of the air M is the wind and the wind runs and the wind every

ou The name an d the face are y . The name and the face are always new re u And they a yo . t For hey have been dipped in the healing flood .

For they have been dipped in the redeeming blood . For they have bee n dipped in Time And Time is only beginnings Time is only and always beginnings And is the redemption of our crime ' our S u And is avio r s priceless blood .

For Time is always the new place,

~ And no place . a For Time is always the new name and the new f ce,

- - And no name and no face .

For Time is motion For Time is innocence

For Time is West . )

i Oh , who is com ng along the trace , W i histl ng along in the late sunshine, With a big black hat above his big red face And a long black coat that swings so (me ?

Oh , who is riding along the trace n v Back to the la d between the ri ers , With a big black beard growing down to his guts And silver mountings on his pistol -butts And a belt as broad as a saddle-girth And a look in his eyes like he owned the earth ? And meets a man riding up the trace And looks right sharp and scans his face " ' ’ Du if o ! And says , rn hit ain t Joe Drew “ ' reckin I hit s me , says Joe and gives a spit, ’ But u n fi er ou wh pped if I gg how y knows hit, ’ ' if n ou? Fer I m Joe , then who air y " : Wh And the man with the black beard says y, Billie ! " " ’

D : Wal I ll u d . And Joe rew says , be wh ppe

1 3 2/ Robert Penn Warren

u ou For you all luck, for all the ast teness of y r heart, An d would not step and would not st0p An d the clock ticked all night long in the furnished room And would not stop And the EI-train passed on the quart ers with a whish like a terrible broom

And would not stop And there is always the sound of breathin g in the next room And it will not stop th e e W l all ? And waitr ss says , ill that be all, sir, wi l that be And will not step " v W all l ? And the alet says , ill that be , sir, wi l that be all An d will not st0p v v all For nothing is e er all and nothing is e er , For all your experience and your expertness of human v ices and of valor u At the ho r when the ways are darkened .

u u u Tho gh yo r l ck held and the market was always satisfactory , u ur v u Tho gh the letter always came and yo lo ers were always tr e, u ou due u Tho gh y always received the respect to yo r position , Though your hand never failed of its cunning and your glands u u always thoro ghly knew their b siness, Though your conscience was easy and you were assured of your

innocence, You became gradually aware that something was missing from

the picture, ' An d u : Wh pon closer inspection exclaimed y, I m not in it at all !

Which was perfectly true .

Th erefore you tried to remember when you had last had what v ou had e er it was y lost,

But it was a long time back. r u An d you decided to ret ace yo r steps from that point,

But it was a long way back .

1 34/ Robert Pen n Warren lt was nevertheleas absolutel essential to make the fi rt , , y e o , And since you had never been a man to be deterredby difi mlt

For thcre is no lao p e like home. )

He joked them an d he teased them an d he had his fun And they never guessed that he was the one ' ’ Had been Mammy s darling an d Pappy s joy When he was a great big whid cering boy ln the w v land bet een the ri ers , And he jingled his pockets and he took his sop And patted his belly whid i was full nigh to pop And wiped the buttermilk out of his beard And took his belch an d up and reared Back from the table an d cocked his chair

’ ' And a id z flld ma ain t ou ot an fresh drinken water this m y g y , ' ‘ ” here ain t fresher n a hoss puddle ? " ' And the old woman said : don t outake the oun Pappy, why y y g ga rdenn n down to the sprin g so he lcin git hit good and fresh ? t And the old woman gave the old man a straigh look. She gave him the bucket but it was not empty but it

h the stars are shinin an d the meadow is O , g But uncler the trees is dark an d night

la the land between the riv ers .

Oh on the trace the fireflies , spark But under the trees is ni h t an d dark g , And way off yon der is the whippoorwill And the owl ofi yonder hoots on the hill But under the trees is dark an d still

And the leaves hang down in the dark o f the trees And there is the spri ng in the dark of the trees

Robert Pmn WM / 13 ) And there is the spring as black as ink And one star in it caught through a chink v Of the lea es that hang down in the dark of the trees,

And the star is there but it does not wink. And Little Billie gets down on his knees And props his hands in the same old place To sup the water at his case ;

And the star is gone but there is his face . " oreself i l Just help y , Big B l ie said ;

Then set the hatchet in his head . They went through his pockets and they buried in the

dark of the trees . ’

fi ered un . I gg he was a ripe , the old man said ’ ' but ou u uh a bin Yeah , y wo ldn t done n t e hadn t fer me,

old woman said .

l (The reflection is shadowy and the form not c ear , u For the ho r is late , is late, and scarcely a glimmer comes here u Under the leaf, the bo gh , in its innocence dark ; And under your straining face you can scarcely mark

The darkling glea m of your face little less than the water dark .

But perhaps what you lost was lost 10 the pool long ago When childlike you lost it and then in your inn ocence rose to go u v After kneeling , as now, with yo r thirst beneath the lea es e v And y ars it lies here and dreams in the depth and grie es , More faithful than mother or father in the light or dark of e the l aves .

But u after, after the irref table modes and marches, After waters that never quench the thirst in the throat at ch es p , ’ After the sleep that sieves the long day s dubieties ' u t And the cricket s corrosive wisdom nder the rees , u e After the r mor of wind and the bright anonymiti s ,

1 36/ Robert Perm Warren

th e The creak of saddle or the plop of the hoof, For a long time now Joe Drew ' s been gone An d left them sitting there alone W u hile the dark o tside gets big and still , ' For the owl doesn t hoot off there on the hill An u l y more and is q iet, and the whippoorwi l ls quiet in the dark of the trees and still In the land between the rivers . And so they sit and breathe and wait An d the i breathe while n ght gets big and late, And neither of them gives move or stir ' ' And she won t look at him and he won t look at her. ’ e but : He do sn t look at her he says Git me the spade.

She grabbled with her hands and he dug with the spade Where the leav es let down the dark and shade In w the land bet een the rivers . She grabbled like a dog in the hole they made, But u stopped of a s dden and then she said , " t I kin pu my hand on his face . They light up a pine-knot and lean at the place Where the man in the black coat slumbers and lies With trash in his beard and dirt on his face ;

- - And the torch flame shines in his wide open eyes . Down the old man leans with the flid-tering flame "

: . And moves his lips, says Tell me his name " ’ ' Ain t Billie, ain t Billie, the old woman cries , ' wuz Oh , hit ain t my Billie , fer he little And helt to my skirt while I stirred the kittle An d called me Mammy and hugged me tight " And come in the house when hit fell night . But the old man leans down with the flickerin g flame " And croaks : But tell me his name . " ' u Oh , he ain t got none , fer he j st come riden ’ From some fer place whar he d bin biden ,

1 38/ Robert Per m Warren ' And ain t ot a name an d ne ver had g none, But Billie m Billie he had one , y , , And hit wuz i Bill e, hit wuz his name . " But the old man croaked : Tell me his

But Biflie had onq an d he wuz little And oflen his chin l would wipe the spittle And wiped the drool and kissed him thar And oounted his toc and kissed him wlur

The littleb lack mark wuz un der his tit, Sha ed lak a d over under his left tit p , ' With a shape fer luck and I d kiss hit And the old man blinks in the pine-knot flare And his mouth comes o en like a fish for air p , " "

Then he sa s fer ot. y right low, l had nigh g " Oh l kissed hirn on his little luck- , spot ’ And l kissed and he d laflas lak as not

” The ld man : o said Git his shirt open . The o ld woman opened the sh irt and there was the birthmark

nnder the left tit. lt w a as sh ped for luck.

’ The bee ( knows. and the eel s cold ganglia burn , And the sad ha d liftin to the lon return g g . ' ' l lxr u h na lsticed coil o g bnn l deepa in the great unso . a ie e navi ator without C rr s its knowledg , g star, And under di e sta ure in its clamo rous toil m p , ’ R ie goose hoots no rth where the starlit marshes are. fi n n lmon heaves at the fall wan derer ou , and , , y Heave at the reat l s a g fa l of Time, and gorgeou , gl m ln the owed ul a an d an er and outra e lflce dew p m g g , ln our lun e to the thun derous stream y p g . fl ing. and plunge Back w me silence back to the ool back , p ,

To the hi i e s a . gh pool, mot on l s , and the a dre m And wanderer back ym . ,

Robert Pm Warren [1 39 Brother to pinion and the pious fin that cleave Their innocence of air and the disinfectant flood And wing and welter and weave The long compulsion and the circuit hope

Back , And bear through that limitless and devouring fluidity u The itch and h mble promise which is home . ou And y , wanderer , back, i For the beginning is death and the end may be l fe, i fi the m i i For the beginn ng was de nition and end y be defin t on, our t And innocence needs , perhaps , new defini ion, And the wick needs the flame But the flame needs the wick.

And the father waits for the son . u The ho r is late, i v in The scene fami l ar e en shadow,

The transaction brief, ou And y , wanderer, back, v i d After the stri ing and the w n s word, To kneel in v Here the e ening empty of wind or bird, To kneel in the sacramental silence of evening At the feet of the old man Who v is e il and ignorant and old , To kneel W th e i k u e r ith l ttle blac mark nder your h a t, W u hich is yo r name, W u hich is shaped for l ck, W hich is your luck . )

1 40/ Robert Pen n Warren

Our feet once wrought the hollow street Wi th echo when the lamps were dead our At windows , once headlight glare D ur ist bed the doe that, leaping , fled.

I do not lov e you less that now a The c ged heart makes iron stroke, Or less that all that light once gave u u now v The grad ate dark sho ld re oke.

We live in time so little time e u And we l arn all so painf lly, That we may spare this hour ' s term

To practice for eternity .

T T IR R TO A LI LE G L, ONE YEA OLD , IN A RUINED FORTRESS

To Roxanna

l . SlROCCO

- u u ou sea e . To a place of r ined stone we bro ght y , and r aches

o - Rorra: hawk hee l ll. fortress , , lion paw , clamped on a hi ‘ lifl - i . Sea c A h ll , no , and crag cocked , the embrasures command

ing the beaches ,

R u il . ange easy, with most fastidio s mathematic and sk l

' Pbilr m me ecit : S i the - ao p f he of pa n , black browed, the uished g , u For whom nothing prospered , tho gh he loved God.

1 42/ Robert Penn Warren ms m gru t smmheon of stm e once u duwbfidgq have

lo n in the moat under arba e at moat-brink rosemar g . g g ; , y

Sun blaze and cloud tatter it the , is sirocco , the dust swirl is

v air i i l O er the bay face, mounts l ke gold gauze wh r ed ; it traverses the blaze blue of water . W v e ha e brought you where geometry of a military rigor sur vives its own ruin ed world,

R em l . Giannutri . os ary, thist e, clutch stone Far hangs in blue air Ear u e the e to that bl en ss h art aches, on o And the exposed approaches the last gold of gorse blo m, in he r t i o . s cco, shakes

n. cuufis CRY

White goose by palm tree palm ragged among stones the o white leander,

- oa n u i e . And the she g t , brow , nder p nk Ol ander, waits l do not tlsink that an thin in the world will mov not oat y g e g ,

Goat droppm’ gs are fresh in the hot dust; not yet the beetle;

the sun beats ,

under blue shadow of u n v blue braidin mo ntai , o er g a sh dow, gull hangs white ; whiter than white against mountain

ull extends motionlw on shelf of air on substance of g ,

ull at an e e-blink will into the astonishin statement g , y . , g of sun asa , p

Robert Pm Warren [1 43 All v ua night, next door , the defecti e child cried ; now sq ts in

the dust where the lizard goes . obbo u v ff r her The wife of the g sits nder ine leaves , she su e s,

eyes glare . v u e The engaged ones sit in the pri acy of bem sement, h ads : bent the classic pose . u the v u Let the beetle work, the g ll comment irrele ant ang ish air of ,

But at your laughter let the molecular dance of th e stonev dark l l ’ g immer ike joy in the stone s dream, ’ in l obbo obbo r i And that moment of possibi ity, let g , g w fe, us all t : ! and , and , ake hands and sing redeem, redeem

T H E C LD X D R III . HI NE T OO

u The child next door is defective beca se the mother, S v u u e en brats already in that p rlie of dirt, l did l o Took a pi l , or something to herse f she thought w uld not u h rt,

But it did , and no good , for there came this monstrous other.

. u i u i The sister is twelve Is bea t f l l ke a saint .

S u v c e . its with the monster all day , with p re lo e, alm yes u ciao l - Has ta ght it a trick , to make , Ita ian wise. k i She s i It croo s hand in that greet ng . miles her sm le without

taint .

an d u o I come, her triptych bea ty and j y stir hate ’ — — in Is it hate my heart . Fool, doesn t she know process u u Is not that joyo s or simple, to bless , or nbless, The malfeasance of nature or the fil th of fate ?

u Can it bind or loose, that bea ty in that kind, Beauty of benediction ? I trust our h0pe to prevail

144/ Robert Penn Warren

The scent and sun -honey of air

Is too sweet comfortably to bear .

ouu I carry y p the hill . u In my arms yo are sweet and still . We u approach yo r special place, And I am watching your face u To see the sweet p zzlement grow,

And then recognition glow . R ecognition explodes in delight. You leap like spray , or like light . D ' espite my arm s tightness , You e - t l ap in gold gli ter and brightness. You i fish -flas h leap l ke a in bright air, '

out. And reach Yes , I m well aware u That this is the spot, and ho r , ou u For y to demand yo r flower . When first we came this way the Up from beach , that day

That seems now so long ago, We moved bemused and slow ' u In the season s p lse and flow . u Bem sed with sea , and slow W u u ith J ne heat and perf me,

We u ou . pa sed here , and plucked y a bloom So here you always demand u u Yo r flower to hold in yo r hand, u And the flower m st be white, For you have your own ways to compel

Observ ance of this ritual .

You hold it an d sing with delight. u our h And yo r mother , for own del ig t, the u Picks one of bl e flowers there,

To put in your yellow hair . our That done, we go on way

. Up the hill , toward the end of the day

1 46/ Robert Pen n Warren But the season has thinned out.

ba ed e below the shmat From the y g ,

Of a late bather reaches our ear, Coming to the v in eyard here

By more than distance thin ned. is in shadow the wind The bay ,

Nags the shore to white. The mountain prepares the night. By the v ineyard we have found w rthil white No bloom o y , And the few we have found Not disin tegrated to the groun d

- d. Are by season an d sea salt browne

a will have to do. It is ruin ed, h t Somewhat better the blue blmsom fare.

We ro e Were not for perfection . p ce d - fi Past fins -home or sloughed o M dx od Past cm led leaf and y p , And the blue blom m will nod

' With your ha d s drum gold nod.

Warren / M7 And in that image let u u Both past and f t re forget, u e In clasped comm nal ase, u Their br te identities .

The path lifts up ahead o ra u To the r c , s pper, bed . ' We v mo e in the mountain s shade . But the mountain is at our baclc

- e i ff . Ah ad , cl mbs the coast cli track v l The al ey between is dim. l ff Ahead , on the c i rim , o a The r cc clasps its height.

It accepts the incipient night. u J st once we look back.

u h ul . On s nset, a w ite g l is black v u It hangs o er the mo ntain crest.

It hangs on that saflron west . u It makes its o tcry . th It slides down e sky . l East now , it catches the ight. i it Its black has gone aga n wh e, ’ And over the room s height

It gleams in the last light . u ur It has s nk from o sight. l ff Beyond the c i is n ight.

e It sank on unrufll d wing .

We hear the sea rustling .

u all i It will r stle night, darl ng .

1 48/ Robert Pen n Warren

’

u u e . The sky s dream is enormo s , I lift p my ey s u t u - In s nlight a tat er of mist clings high on the mo ntain mass . u u The mo ntain is nder the sky , and there the gray scarps rise l Past paths where on their appointed occasions men c imb, and

- v Past grain patch , last apron of vineyard , last terrace of oli e, u s v r Past chestn t, pa t cork gro e, whe e the last carts can go , l Past camp of the charcoal maker, where coals g ow in the black v hi e,

r u . The scarps , g ay, rise p Above them is that place I know .

e e s The pines are there , they are large , a d ep r ces , S bo v helf a ve scarp , encla e of rock, a glade Benched and withdrawn in the moun tain o u under the ’ e u p ak s d ress . — — We came there your mother and I an d rested in that severe

shade .

- - a v : Pine blackness mist tangled , the peak black bo e the glade gives - u i On the empty threshold of air, the hawk h ng del ght d u l —ah Of istance nspooled and bright space spil ed , the heart thrives We stood in that shade and saw sea and land lift in the far

light .

- u . Now the b tterflies dance, time tattered and disarrayed t ' u I watch them . I think how above hat far scarp s s nlit wall M u a ist threads in silence the darkness of bo ghs, and in th t shade

- u e . l l . Condensed moist re gathers at ne dle tip It glitters, wi l fa l

I a nnot interpret for you this collocation You i l v u v Of memories . w l li e yo r own life, and contri e The u e but v s lang age of your own h art , let that con er ation ,

v u ou u . In the last analysis, be always of whate er tr th y wo ld live

1 50/ Robert Pen n Warren

Tbe Dance 0 Beat o. B : B. Ru 193 . ] rooklyn l . bin, 9

R m C oem: About God. : anso , John rowe. P New York Henry Holt,

19 19.

Cbillr and Fem . : A 192 4 . New York lfred Knop f,

Two entlemen in Bonds . : A K 1 27. G New York lfred nopf, 9

Selen ed P oemr. : A 194 3 . New York lfred Knopf , Selected oem: and d P (revised enlarge edition ) . New York A 1 963 . lfred Knopf ,

A . Mr. o e and Otber Poemr. Y : Mi B Tate, llen P p New ork nton, alch,

1928 .

' - Poemr: 1 928 1 3 1 . : 1932 . 9 New York Scribner s, b e iterran ea a t b o r T c M d n nd O er P em . New York : Alces fis

1936 . Press, '

elect ed oems . : c 1937 . S P New York S ribner s, The Winte S ea Cumm t M s : Cumm r . ing on, as ington Press, 1 44 9 .

’ - Poemr: 1 92 2 1 947 . : Sc 1948 u New York ribner s, (reiss ed, D n 1960. : Al S l with additio s, Paperback edition , enver an wa low,

W Tb olden Mean and th r oem and Ridley ills . e G O e P : (a

Tbe u itive . 192 3 . parody of F g ) Nashville,

- W R . Tbirt rix Poemt : A arren, obert Penn y . New York lcestis Press,

1 93 5 .

Eleven Poemr on toe Same heme . oon : T Norfolk, G New

D t n 1942 . irec io s, - elect ed Poemr [ 23 1 943 . : c u B S , 9 New York Har o rt, race, 44 19 .

Pr mirer: oem 1 —1 6 : R m u o : 5 4 5 . P 9 9 New York ando Ho se,

1957 .

- You Em erorr and Others : oem: 1 95 7 1 960. , p , P New York

R m u 1960. ando Ho se, W oem l : V il U i i : Ear and 14 310. ills, Jesse . P ! Nashville anderb t n vers ty

193 . Press, 9

B. Magazines

b u i i 2 2- D m 1 2 u um T e t ve. A 1 9 3 . s F g Nashville, pril , 9 ece ber, Po r vol e , i um n neteen n bers .

1 3 4/ A Selected Bibliography Y Source 11. M s

A. Books

u M. The Pu itim : A Critia l Arrount h Ba b ry, j ohn g . C apel Hill

iv s i Q rolina Press 1 8. Un er ty of North . 93 Renaissance in tbe M : A Critical Hittory of tbe U tera

196 3.

Co n uin . Ti e u itive rou : A iterac Hirtor . B an, Lo F g G p L y y aton

of r C r i re s 1 8 . No th a ol na P s . 93

Ti e Ten et t ee. r : Ri h 1 46 1 48. New Yo k ne art, 9 9

Still Rebelr Still Yan kee: a d Oroe Bi r t . B R u , r g aton o ge

of r s 1 38 . Geo gia Pre s, 9

’ Vu derbilt Un iversn P es 1963 y r s, . u i : m iw at nd i - P Re n on Va erb lt Ma 1 6. E M , y 3 3 , 93 d,

R. R. Pu . s v : V n b U i ess 1 3 . rdy Na h ille a der ilt nivers ty Pr , 9 9 ' : b outb and o n i B v I ll Take N) Stand T e S t e Ag r an Tradition . y Twel e Soubernera New York: 1

Torehbook.

Ne R. T b ut Alta m ira : A Stud a l ée Wo b o All n w K. h y i r f e

Tate. D r: A Sw 1 6 . enve lan allow. 9 3

“core i The u itive : Cli in : a d Com e-t . B n 1 M . st . , err ll F g pp g o o , 939 Warr n Poenicke Klaus. Robe t enn : Kunrt w rl und Kriti trbe , r P e

Ba a . 1930. — ' m n . V orll : Bod . : Sa ibncr a 1 . w y New York , 938

M M Th M m Counm: V rita r ol tbe Modern Sout b. S att : Universir of W s t n Press 196 3 e le y a hing o , .

Cultural Settin . r : D u ed D i 196 1 . g New Yo k o bl ay olph n, obu Crm t oa M ne li : Universir of M M L I Ra . in apo s y ’ Niom ou l reas. 1962.

A Selerted Bibliogrupby / 13 3 A tone , . wall act t on . : Mini on Belch 1 2 Tate llen S j New York , , 9 8 ( i u b Ann A c U i M re ss ed y rbor Paperba ks, n versity of ichigan

Press, e erro Daui n r. : M B l 1929 . [ fl New York inton, a ch, React iona B uo : on oet and Ideas ry y P ry . New York : Scrib ’

19 36 . ner s,

Tbc Fatberr. : u m 1 38 u New York P tna , 9 ( reiss ed as paper D : Al back. enver an Swallow, Rearo i Madne n n t t . : u m 194 1 . New York P tna , On tbc U mi t o oetr l : . : 1 48 . f P y New York Swal ow, 9 Tb o rl Demo e o n n . C : Re ner 1 3 3 . F r hicago Henry g y, 9

i t Ame ican Poetr. S f c c S x y r elected, with pre a e and criti al e W : A . t Con 1 34 . not s, by llen Tate ashing on Library of gress, 9 The Man o ette i tbe Modern World f L r: n . New York M d B 1 3 3 . eri ian ooks , 9 ollect ed ua D : A l 1 C B r. 3 . y enver lan Swa low, 9 9 W R ob ro : Tb M in o a rt r . n B wn e Ma . arren, obert Penn l g f y New

: 5 : C r 192 . York Payson la ke, 9 Ni bt ide Milflin 1 R . B : u 39. g r oston Ho ghton , 9 ’ At H eaven : at e . : u B c 1 4 3 . G New York Harco rt, ra e, 9 ’ l b Men : 1 4 A l t e Kin : . u B c 6 . g New York Harco rt, ra e, 9 i h : Tbe C rru: in the Attic and Ot er Stories . New York Har

u B c 194 7 . co rt , ra e,

World Enou b and ime : R m u 1 0. . 93 g T New York ando Ho se,

B other to Dra onr. : R m u 1 3 . r g New York ando Ho se, 9 3

Band o An el: . : R m u 193 3 . f g New York ando Ho se,

S e re ation . : R m u 1936. g g New York ando Ho se,

elected Erra r New : R m u 1938 . S y . York ando Ho se,

Tbe Cave. New : R m u 1939 . York ando Ho se,

Wildernet r : R m u 196 1 . . New York ando Ho se,

lood : R m u 1964 . F . New York ando Ho se,

B. Essays and Articles

M u D D n . n u , avidson , o ald The Tha kless se and Her F gitive Poets rl A : U Soutbern Writer: in tbe Modern Wo d. thens niversity of

- eo 1938 . P . 1 30. G rgia Press, p " Saturda Re vi w o Fletcher h u . m y , y f , Jo n Go ld Two Ele ents in—Poetr e t er v 27 6 6 . ure l Au . 3 6 Lt at , ( g , br m P C A C o . Ul h . C r T Hoff an , . J ., has . llen, and ar lyn F ric hapte on

1 36/ A Selected Bibliograpby