
Their free verse was no form at all, yet it made history.

Too much is demanded by the critic, attempted by the poet.

I am a lady young in beauty waiting
Until my truelove comes, and then we kiss.

The arts generally have had to recognize Modernism - how should poetry escape?

And how can poetry stand up against its new conditions? Its position is perfectly precarious.

And a wandering beauty is a blade out of its scabbard.You know how dangerous, gentlemen of threescore?May you know it yet ten more.

And yet what is Modernism? It is undefined.

It is a miracle of harmony, of the adaptation of the free inner life to the outward necessity of things.

But we moderns are impatient and destructive.