Canada -- Description and travel; Canadian poetry -- History and criticism
Arcady, or Canada, are they one and the same? The pipes of Pan echo
throughout the entire Dominion. The Poet--
"Born and nourished in miracles,"
writes his scroll by every shining lake, in the deep, dim interior of
the forest, on every majestic mountain height. He renders constant
service to the inward law, and it is the poet who is the real
historian of his country. It is he who immortalises her heroic
deeds; who paints her landscapes in unfading colours; who
crystallises her greatness into song. One line of the poet's may
outweigh a volume of descriptive prose.
"His instant thought a Poet spoke
And filled the age his fame."
It would be a marvel if the Canadian colour and atmosphere did not
produce a choir of singers, if not, {246} indeed, a nation of poets.
Nor can national poetic feeling be measurably restricted to the
comparatively few greater poets in any land or literature; to the
supreme masters in the lyric art. The greatness of Wordsworth,
Landor, Shelley, Keats, Coleridge, of the Brownings, Tennyson, and of
Swinburne, does not detract from, even though it overshadows, the
charm of a score of the lesser poets, each of whom has his individual
place. Had the lives of Browning and Tennyson been of the
comparatively brief duration of Stephen Phillips, how much of their
noblest work would have been unwritten? Had not Wilfrid and Alice
Meynell, with angelic goodness, rescued Francis Thompson from
destitution, what might not the world of poetic literature have
missed? It is not alone by the standard of Dante, Shakespeare,
Goethe, or Petrarca that the art of poetry should be estimated. To
no inconsiderable degree the number as well as the quality of the
poets of a nation are typical of the national inspiration.
The fact that Canada, as a country that looks back to hardly more
than a century and a half of organised life and whose literary
expression has been almost entirely within the past half century,
should have produced a body of poetry that has just claims to being
considered national literature is as impressive as it is interesting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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