Word: rhymed
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...date (Through the Looking Glass, The Siren Song, The Chambered Nautilus, etc.). A joyous, spirited and perhaps abandoned opera it is likely to be, if Poetess Millay has written as she was wont. Of burning her candle at both ends for the "lovely light" it gave, she used to rhyme. She has raced barefoot at dawn through the Bois de Boulogne, and elsewhere. When she married Eugene Boissevain, Manhattan importer, in 1923, it was with a fillip at destiny's nose, for next day she was to enter a hospital for a grave operation...
First, his uncle, a hawklike French general, wedded him to the glorious cause of carving an African empire for La Patrie, with words that made Kipling's "Recessional" sound like a nursery rhyme. Then he was sent to a cavalry camp as a corporal, to fortify his stomach by sleeping near horses and to acquire respect for the Chinese puzzle that is French army discipline. It just happened that he could punch, ride, shoot, drill, sleep, spy, drink, disguise, obey, command and love-his-country better than any one else in that camp, and that his sense of humor...
Then, the people are charming, even though they flit in and out of the plot without rhyme or reason. They live in nice places, picnic and go trout-fishing whether at home or in the Pyrenees for financial reasons, have their jokes and family catch-words in a delightful idyllic existence. If a reader is reconciled to a purposeless book that smells of what the English country life should be (and the combination has refreshing elements) the flavor of "The Dinosaur's Egg" is sufficiently delicate to make one wish that such eggs were a staple commodity on the market...
...remark went, 'is no more a new form of poetry than sleeping in a ditch is a new form of architecture.' I think there is perhaps a great deal in that. In my own work I am inclined to adhere more to the conventional forms of meter and rhyme. I am proud to say that I am not one of those who thinks Tennyson beneath contempt or is bored at mention of the nineteenth century tury...
Already poets are springing up on all sides, each species composing "after his own kind", just as was predicted in the Scriptures. It may turn out as Emerson suspected, that "there are no common men". The Jester, simple fellow that he is, writes a rhyme "To a Playful Earthquake...