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I had the
genius of Thomson; I; too; could depict a 〃City of Dreadful Night〃 from
mere touch sensations。 From contrasts so irreconcilable can we fail to
form an idea of beauty and know surely when we meet with loveliness?
Here is a son eloquent of a blind man's power of vision:
THE MOUNTAIN TO THE PINE
Thou tall; majestic monarch of the wood;
That standest where no wild vines dare to creep;
Men call thee old; and say that thou hast stood
A century upon my rugged steep;
Yet unto me thy life is but a day;
When I recall the things that I have seen;……
The forest monarchs that have passed away
Upon the spot where first I saw thy green;
For I am older than the age of man;
Or all the living things that crawl or creep;
Or birds of air; or creatures of the deep;
I was the first dim outline of God's plan:
Only the waters of the restless sea
And the infinite stars in heaven are old to me。
I am glad my friend Mr。 Stedman knew that poem while he was making his
Anthology; for knowing it; so fine a poet and critic could not fail to
give it a place in his treasure…house of American poetry。 The poet; Mr。
Clarence Hawkes; has been blind since childhood; yet he finds in nature
hints of binations for his men