After the line scans and the rhymes are proved should come the effort to put the thought clearly. It is often hard to say what one means in prose. It is harder in verse. In fact, one of the greatest difficulties any verse maker can overcome is the tendency to be obscure in his meaning.

With the surmounting of this obstacle comes simplicity of diction; to present the thought without superfluous words; to avoid the threadbare phrases and to put the idea in a new way and yet in plain speech. How far the verse maker will go in clearness and simplicity depends largely on his natural good taste and discrimination. The better he is able to appreciate the work of others the better his own will become, and this appreciation, though it cannot be created, can be cultivated as well as good manners. To-day more than ever before good reading is one of the prime essentials to good writing.

Stevenson has recommended imitation as a road to originality and few have disagreed with him on this point. It is undoubtedly easier to write a sonnet if one is familiar with Wordsworth or to write a ballade if one has read Dobson. At the same time to be of value the imitation must be done broadly and systematically. The artist does not learn to draw by copying Gibson heads nor the verse maker to write by diluting Kipling. An imitation should always be made with the idea of reproducing some one quality which the imitator wishes to develop in himself; the verse maker should copy not one style but many, and aim at methods rather than mannerisms.

For a first step in imitation it is well to select a subject akin to the original and follow the author’s construction and trend of thought as closely as possible. For instance, there is a sonnet on Milton—write a companion sonnet on Shakespeare or Dante. Match stanzas to Washington with similar stanzas to Lincoln or Cromwell or any other character who can be treated in the same general manner. Gray’s “Elegy in a Country Churchyard” suggests other elegies in other churchyards.

One may even parody a poem—not broadly, line for line in the American fashion—but in the more delicate Calverley way, which applies the spirit and meter of the poem to a lighter subject. One must imitate before one can originate, but haphazard imitation leads nowhere.

In conclusion it may be said that verse making is no mystic art hidden from the many. It is to be acquired by any one who is willing to work at it steadily and consistently. First, a start in the right direction, and then practice—practice—practice.

Nothing “dashed off” or “turned out,” but every composition saved from the wastebasket made—

Correct in construction,
Clear in thought,
Simple in diction.