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The Poems of Sidney Lanier by Sidney Lanier
page 42 of 312 (13%)
But that only made his range of poetic thought wider as his outlook
became larger. The world is opening to the poet with every question
the crucible asks of the elements, with every spectrum
the prism steals from a star. The old he has and all the new.

All this a man of Lanier's breadth understood fully,
for he had a large capacity and he sought a full equipment.
Perhaps the most remarkable feature of his gifts was their complete symmetry.
It is hard to tell what register of perception, or sensibility,
or wit, or will was lacking. The constructive and the critical faculties,
the imaginative and the practical, balanced each other. His wit and humor
played upon the soberer background of his more recognized qualities.
The artist's withdrawn vision was at any need promptly exchanged
for the exercise of that scrupulous exactitude called for in the routine
of the law-office or the post-office clerkship or other business relations,
or for the play of those energies exerted in camp or field. There,
so his comrades testify, the most wearing drudgeries of a soldier's life
were always undertaken with notable alacrity and were thoroughly discharged,
when he would as invariably return, the task being done, to the gentle region
of his own high thoughts and the artist's realm of beauty.

But how short was his day, and how slender his opportunity!
From the time he was of age he waged a constant, courageous, hopeless fight
against adverse circumstance for room to live and write.
Much very dear, and sweet, and most sympathetic helpfulness
he met in the city of his adoption, and from friends elsewhere,
but he could not command the time and leisure which might have
lengthened his life and given him opportunity to write the music and the verse
with which his soul was teeming. Yet short as was his literary life,
and hindered though it were, its fruit will fill a large space
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