Albatross Book of Verse [antikvár]

í PREFACE The reader may well demand an explanation for this compilation. In its first edition it was known as the Albatross Book of Living Verse, and the title was altered only becaxise some had mistaken it for a book devoted entirely to contemporary verse. The selections in this volume are living poetry in the sense that they have persisted in spite of changing times and shifting tastes. Thus (even in the . section devoted to modern verse) they seem to possess the quality ,. ' which implies permanence. Furthermore, they contain that vitahty which is independent of form and fashion. It should be said, at the outset, that the compilation does not pretend to include all the poetry which is the chief power of English literature. It does, however, aim to present, within the confines of a small volume, such verses as have stirred the imagination of countless readers differing in temperament and traditions, verses whose essential quality is acknowledged by the caught breath and the quickened pulse. Analysis may rationalise the reaction to such poems, but recognition is spontaneous, requiring no knowledge of metres, mannerisms or technical devices. Poetry is a language that tells us, as Edwin Arlington Robinson phrased it, " something that cannot be said. And it seems to me that poetry has two outstanding characteristics. One is that it is, after all, undefinable. The other is that it is eventually unmistakable." Robert Frost extends the implications when he says, " It is absurd to think that the only way to tell if a poem is lasting is to wait and see if it lasts. The right reader of a good poem can tell the moment it strikes him that he has taken an immortal wound— that he will never get over it. That is to say, permanence in poetry, as in love, is perceived instantly. The proof of a poem is not that we have never forgotten it, but that we knew at first sight we never could forget it." The intent of this book, then, is immediate and intuitive instead of analytic. I have not attempted to draw the line between " experimental " and " traditional," realising that the revolt of one period is often the convention of the next. In general my tests have been Palgrave's: " That a poem shall be worthy of the writer's genius; that colour and originality cannot atone for serious imperfections in clearness, unity or truth; that a few good lines do not make a good poem; that popular estimate is serviceable as a guide-post more than as a compass; above all, 5