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Your letter has followed me about and has at last found me. The one act piece seems to me good fun, really amusing and shrewd. But, as I've told you, I know very little about plays. The sonnets seem good "literary verse" but as you know I don't care much for that kind. Poems about artistic achievements seem to me unnecessary—all except Alfred de Musset4's Ode—no Stanzas to Malibran5. There is so much verse about artistic impressions now a days. At it's best it seems to me poetry-once-removed. And usually it's just plain wood.
Now in "Omens"6 you get somewhere and start from
somewhere. It has a ring in it, a tune of its own, says more than the words say. In
short, it seems to me real poetry and very individual.
That is the sort of thing I like to read. And "Rain,
Rain!"7 is just as good. It's a splendid bit. They both arrive[?] arrive, come
across. I don't think the two sonnets stand a ghost of a chance beside these two
lyrics. There's a fine wild out-of-door flavor about the latter, and I congratulate
you.
I was in New York8 for part of October doing an article9 for McClure's10 on the new plays. Now I am working hard in Pittsburgh2 and hope not to go back to Bank street11 until January 1st. I shall see you there before the winter is over, I hope. I'm sorry you had to give up your lovely home. Mr. B Johnson12 is still abroad. I'll be glad to meet Mr. Untermeyer13 sometime when you are in New York. A thousand good wishes, and don't forget to send me the review you spoke of.
Faithfully W. S. C.