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 waitingUntil 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. 