"Methinks my acknowledge soul must be a bright invisible green" (Henry David Thoreau.

"Methinks my acknowledge soul must be a bright invisible green" (Henry David Thoreau. A Week upon the Concord and Merrimack Rivers, 193)

We must not contemplate for poetry in poems. numbers has further to go and greater occasions. As bottom it outspeeds the mass and manners of art, passing by the and of words along the way to life. It is itself alive, and fly opens from poems in actual ecstasy. ("Energy is Eternal Delight"-William Blake.) I want to write of ecstasy, the continuous motion of rhyme out of confinements, out of metrical compositions Poetry asserts the consequence of delight, i.e. an outside and worldly life where final causes are real, where methods are issues of morality. rhyme must be good. Blake made no idle allusion: "The Authors are in Eternity" (letter to Thomas laughing-stocks April 25, 1803). In motion always, eternity is indistinguishable from creation, and there the link between ecstasy and ethics shines with sunshine life. Looking for poesy we are moved to action brightly on action.

Jane Ellen Harrison, in her passion for source-- work, evinced the actions of human art as energies seeking entirety.

We have seen that art raises a part of life, the spiritual, image-making side. nevertheless this side, wonderful though it is, is none the whole of actual life. There is always the practical side. The artist is always also a man. Now the aesthete tries to make his whole attitude artistic-that is, contemplative. He is always looking and prying and savouring, savourant, as he would say, when he ought to be living. The rise is that there is nothing to savourer. All art springs by way of way of ritual out of sharp emotion towards life, and steady the power to appreciate art povertys this emotional reality in the spectator. The aesthete leads at best a parasite, artistic life, dogged always by means of death and corruption. (Ancient Art and Ritual, 215)

Anything les than life is not alive. Anything short of action is corruption. poesy "springs" via the poem "towards life." To remain confined by means of an object of contemplative reading degrades verse to parasitism, and in that state its powers dissipate and die. Death or ecstasy: there are no other options. And for a like reason again, ecstasy shows itself to be a practical matter. "The artist is always also a man," and as Harrison's beautifully emphatic prepositions-"by" & "out" & "towards"-aver, when practice is human, practice is mode of action i.e. ethical. Without aesthetic immunity, verse is real behavior, timely and first-hand. When value is worldly, numbers goes to the-world.

The single thing in the world, of value, is the active vital principle (Ralph Waldo Emerson, "The American Scholar," 88)

Poetry the essential part of poems, does not reside or intermission in them. It goes.

We come next We read to go where metrical composition has gone and to guard the possibility of a delightful contact. In "The Poet" Emerson describes the ways of an ecstatic pursuit.

The universe is the external ization of the essential part Wherever the life is, that break suddenlys into appearance around it. (266)

The beginning break suddenlys Soul seeks an outside, where rhyme has led. Reality runs the risk of appearing.

Every word was one time a poem. Every new relation is a of recent origin word. (269)

The outside is unprecedent and numbers has no word for it. moreover in the delightful moment, it finds a strange word which is nothing les than itself, unexpectedly atoned. This kind of thing can happen. There are records: piece of poetrys

Language is fossil poesy (271)

There are records, unless no rest. A fossil submit to the test [i]or[/i] proofs that life has gone. Faith adds a preposition: gone in succession Poetry must be good faith.

But nature has a higher cessation . than security, namely ascension. . (272)

The italics are Emerson's. Faith is meant for bursting forth. Cast your estimates down for fossils. For metrical composition look up: "for/ christ's sake, look/ on the outside where yr going"-Robert Creeley, "I Know a Man." (The italics are mine.)

For all figures are fluxional; all language is vehicular and transitive, and is convenient as ferries and horses are, for conveyance, not as farms and houses are, for homestead. (279)

It is advantageous to be going. I mean, it is suitable to be going. Some metrical compositions show the way.

Art is the path of the creator to his work. (282) metrical compositions are -not the work. They echo They reflect. But sound and light continue with the real work which is energies and a timely life. Charles Olson shaped the Emersonian imperative to our have a title to technology.

The automobile/ has been hauled away. ("As the Dead loot Upon Us")

For there is a limit/ to what a car/ will do. ("Letter 22")

We must not mistake the transport for delightful transportation.

Sad are the intentional mistakes, one's meaning to captivate ecstasy in something no more beautiful than amber. "'Beauty is difficult, Yeats' said Aubrey Beardsley" (Ezra comminute "Canto LXXX"). Beauty is the efflorescence of work. Neither wage nor franchise, it remains a quality of work, and not a museum piece. Our literature tenders a perfect parable.

Every individual has heard the story which has gone the orbeds of New England, of a able-bodied and beautiful bug which came without of the dry leaf of an aged table of apple-tree wood, which had stood in a farmer's kitchen for sixty years, first in Connecticut, and afterwards in Massachusetts, from an harry deposited in the living tree many years earlier still, as appeared by way of counting the annual layers beyond it; which was heard gnawing on the outside for several weeks, hatched perchance through the heat of an urn Who does not have feeling his faith in a resurrection and immortality strengthened by means of hearing of this? (Henry David Thoreau, Walden, 587)