Milford High School - Oak Lily and Ivy Yearbook (Milford, MA)

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20 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. merit’s treatment of them was ungenerous. Reformers endeavored to improve their condition by instigating legislation, yet a poem written by Kipling accomplished more than their best efforts. He pointed out the value of the soldier. “It’s Tommy this an’ Tommy that; an’ chuck him out, the brute; But its ‘saviour of his country’ when the guns begin to shoot.” The latter line shows the hypocritical attitude of the nation towards its de¬ fenders. Thousands read the poem; thousands were impressed by it, and the British Tommy can thank Kipling for his improved condition. Children in the schools are inspired by poetry to patriotism while the soldier’s heart quickens at the words of the poet when set to music. Whittier’s poetry caused us to abhor slavery while the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” cheered our soldiers as they sought to abolish it. We are touched by the faith of the dead soldiers in “Flanders Fields” and the strength of the soldier’s courage in Seeger’s poem “I have 5 Rendezvous with Death,” while Amy Lowell’s “Bombardment” fills us with horror at the barbarity of war. In every walk of life we are influenced by what we read and through this, the poet can inject into thousands his knowledge, his ideals, and his nobility of char¬ acter. Yet despite the evident good that the poet has wrought, and the benefit he has been to mankind, he does not receive the appreciation that is his due. Living in an age of intense industrial activity where a man is judged by the material ef¬ fects he can produce, we are inclined to misjudge the poet. The word itself sug¬ gests to us a long haired individual with dreamy eyes and unstable emotions; a dab¬ bler unwilling and unable to do manual labor. Unless he acquires a fortune by his pen, we regard him as a failure. Because he writes sonnets t o a flower, we regard him as a weakling and as a rule we scorn him if he treasures his books. If he sings the praises of nature, he is out of his head. Reward comes only after death. This opinion we must recognize as a misconception. A glance at the lives of the great poets reveals the incorrectness of this view. Let us review the life of Milton. A man of genius working zealously for art and country, struck blind in the prime of his career and dying the greatest poet of his age. Although warned of his failing eyesight, he refused to neglect the pa¬ triotic duty he believed was his and continued to serve as secretary to the Com¬ monwealth until the Restoration, when he was able to take up his poetical labors. His eyesight, God’s most precious gift, torn from him, he did not despair or revile fate, but bent him self patiently to the task of seeing the light of God’s goodness through his darkness. Milton’s life is an example of the highest form of practical courage, the courage to fight against the temptation of despair. Many a man would have raged against fate and would have become a sour, miserable wretch, a canker to himself and to those around him. Or let us take Oliver Goldsmith, the divine vagabond. A man whom poverty tossed into all conceivable places and over all parts of Europe, and who never knew where the next meal was coming from or what his next shelter would be. Yet one whose faith in God and mankind never wandered. One who looked at ad¬ versity and laughed in her face; one whose company was esteemed by the wealthi¬ est and most cultured families of England. Alexander Pope, a cripple, poor as a church mouse, and sickly, wrote poems so b rilliant, so artistic that they have endured for years. This list of sorrows and struggles contains the names of many of our greatest poets. Their works are immortal because they were written with the blood of their own bitter experience. The poet’s existence is often a continued struggle with

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THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 19 So was born the poet. From that day till this his spirit has not left us. In every age, in every period of the world’s history, he chro nicled the joys, the suf¬ ferings, the success, and the downfall of souls and empires. He has clothed these chronicles with phrases of such beauty that his works have become imperishable. As Watson has said: “Captains and conquerors leave a little dust, And kings a dubious legend of their reign; The swords of Caesar, they are less than rust; The poet doth remain.” The poet has preserved for us a vivid picture of Egypt’s grandeur and of Babylon’s splendor. Homer’s “Iliad” has vivified for us the heroic and noble ideals of the Greeks. Cicero, Virgil, and Horace have bequeathed to us Rome’s mighty civilization. Rome fell, thrones trembled, but the works of its poets re¬ mained invincible to strife and time. And what has the poet striven to accomplish through all these ages? .Since the beginning of time, the object of the poet has been to reveal to the world the ideal relation between God and man, and between man and man. He points out to the world the beauties of nature and of life which its dull senses cannot perceive. He must study the mistakes that men have made and prevent their recurrence. To him falls the lot of convincing humanity that faith is rewarded and that sin is punished. It is his duty to impress the world with the existence of the Deity that “shapes our ends.” Truth depends upon the poet for its definition, for it is his duty to differentiate between the right and the wrong. To fulfill this purpose, the poet cannot be an ordinary man. He must be of a different clay; of a more durable, finer clay. Imagination must be an integral part of him. He must have the ability to project himself into the characters of others and to feel emotions foreign to his ex¬ perience. A poet describing Death must visualize the agony of the dying man. When he writes of love, he feels the joys and pangs of it; he imagines and experi¬ ences every delicate heart-throb and fancy of the lovers. His imagination must be limitless, extending even to the attempted visualizing of the supernatural. Has any poet as yet visited Heaven or Hell? Yet Dante described to us a symbolical Inferno, while Milton’s “Paradise Lost” leads us to celestial realms. In this they succeeded by the exercise of their extraordinary imaginations. It enabled them to grasp and conceive the broadest and noblest of conceptions. Still these qualities do not constitute all the essentials of the poet. Strength of imagination and vastness of conception are useless unless accompanied by an aptitude for expression. “For true expression, like the unchanging sun, Clears and improves what e’er it shines upon.” Words,—he must have thousands of them, know the shades of meaning of each of them, for the form of expression embellishes the thought. Like a crude lump of gold, a thought represents value, but how much more does it signify when the gold is fashioned into an artistic object such as a vase or a chain. Then the value is evident and likewise is the thought more impressive, more significant when expressed in the beautiful language of the poet. The poet has proved time and again that “the pen is mightier than the sword.” Poetry and literature in general have been important factors in the moulding of public opinion on important subjects. Fifteen or twenty years ago, the English Tommy, or private soldier, was held in little esteem by the people and the govern-

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THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 21 life at its worst, and it is pathetic to consider that from the unhappiness and trials of many authors has come the poetry which, as Keats has said, must “be a friend To soothe the cares and lift the thoughts of man.” Millions are poor, millions are diseased, millions suffer at the hands of fate, but only the superman, only the man who is above the ordinary, extricates himself from the mire. Such a man is every great poet. The poet with his love for the aesthetic is God’s sympathetic listener. To him God is not obliged to perform miracles to prove his existence; for the poet under¬ stands it through the beauty of nature’s creations. Just as he perceives God’s hand in the lowdiest of insects, and plants, and trees, so he recognizes the divine guid¬ ance in Fate’s operations. As such he accepts them, as he would an eruption of the earth or a tidal wave. He bows with resignation to Fate’s commands and proceeds to do his best for the world. And to-day, in the twentieth century, at a time when civilization is supposed to be at its highest, we need the poet more than ever before. The struggle for hu¬ man existence is becoming harder every day. With the advent of every new soul the ratio between consumption and production is disturbed. Man can no longer feed himself with his two hands, so he employes machines to aid him, and still he must toil harder and harder to keep himself alive. Such a struggle is a fatal one; for in the pursuit of material well-being spiritual welfare is neglected. Long con¬ tinued labor deadens the aesthetic senses, and when these are dormant, people be¬ come sordid in their deeds and thoughts. The more sordid they become, the nearer to the animal they approach and this approach marks the decline of civilization. Ancient culture flourished only when the people had sufficient leisure to in¬ dulge their sense of the aesthetic. In “Cargoes” John Masefield shows us in a few well chosen verses the contrasts of three stages of civilization: Quinquireme of Ninveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and s-weet white ivine. Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus, Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores With a cargo of diamonds, Emeralds, amethysts, Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores. Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack, Butting through the channel in the mad March days With a cargo of Tyne coal, Road rails, pig lead. Firewood, ironware, and cheap tin trays. The last stanza gives us the true picture of this sordid, commercial age; dirty steamers loaded with coal, timbers, cheap tin trays, symbols of utter necessity, of ceaseless exertion and toil.