Yon full-orbed fire shall cease to shine.
Here, again, are lines in which the rhythm demands an accent on impossible syllables.
But ah winged with what agonies and pangs.
Swiftly before me nor care I how vast.
I see visions denied to mortal eyes.
Uplifted longer in heaven’s western glow.
But these are trifles. Mr. Mathews is young and we take it for granted that he will improve. In the meantime what does he mean by spelling lose, loose, and its (the possessive pronoun) it’s—re-iterated instances of which fashions are to be found passim in “Wakondah”? What does he mean by writing dare, the present, for dared the perfect?—see stanza the twelfth. And, as we are now in the catachetical vein, we may as well conclude our dissertation at once with a few other similar queries.
What do you mean, then, Mr. Mathews, by
A sudden silence like a tempest fell?
What do you mean by “a quivered stream;” “a shapeless gloom;” a “habitable wish;” “natural blood;” “oak-shadowed air;” “customary peers” and “thunderous noises?”