... “creature of poignant thirst
And exquisite hunger” ...
—the splendid sexual diapason in the sestet of the sonnet celled “The Kiss”—or, again, to “the flame-winged harp-player.”
... “thou art Passion of Love,
The mastering music walks the sunlit sea.”
Perhaps I have said enough to illustrate my indication as to the opening metaphor in your sonnet. Apart from the incongruity of the image, it has no logical congruity with the collateral idea of Fear. The sonnet itself turns on a fine emotion in your mind: let that emotion shape a worthy raiment of metaphor and haunting cadence of music, not as the metricist desires but as the poet au fond compels. Yes, both in sonnet-writing and in your terza-rima narrative (cultivate elision here, also fluent terminals, or you will find the English prosody jib at the foreign reins) you will find G. useful. But the secret law of rhythm in a moving or falling wave, in the cadence of wind, in the suspiration of a distant song, in running water, in the murmur of leaves, in chord confluent upon chord, will teach you more—if you will listen long enough and know what you listen to.
I hope I have not discouraged you. I mean the reverse of that.
Your friend,
William Sharp.
I add here a letter of criticism and encouragement sent by F. M. to another young writer, in the previous summer, to the nephew of William Black the novelist: