The Poet's Poet by Elizabeth Atkins
page 275 of 367 (74%)
page 275 of 367 (74%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
going on a magnificent quest to curse God on his throne of fire, and
finding--nothing." The poet's youthful zest in scandalizing the orthodox is likely, however, to be early outgrown. As the difficulties in the way of his finding a God worthy of his adoration become manifest to him, it may be, indeed, with a sigh that he turns from the conventional religion in which so many men find certitude and place. This is the mood, frequently, of Browning, [Footnote: See _Christmas Eve_ and _Easter Day._] of Tennyson, [Footnote: See _In Memoriam._] of Arnold, [Footnote: See _Dover Beach._] of Clough. [Footnote: See _The New Sinai, Qui Laborat Orat, Hymnos Amnos, Epistrausium._] So, too, James Thomson muses with regret, How sweet to enter in, to kneel and pray With all the others whom we love so well! All disbelief and doubt might pass away, And peace float to us with its Sabbath bell. Conscience replies, There is but one good rest, Whose head is pillowed upon Truth's pure breast. [Footnote: _The Reclusant._] In fact, as the religious world grows more broad-minded, the mature poet sometimes appeals to the orthodox for sympathy when his daring religious questing threatens to plunge him into despair. The public is too quick to class him with those whose doubt is owing to lassitude of mind, rather than too eager activity. Tennyson is obliged to remind his contemporaries, There lives more faith in honest doubt, |
|