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Updated: June 23, 2025
This occasion presented itself to Madame de Tecle and M. de Camors in the form of an unpoetic incident. It occurred at the end of October. Camors had gone out after dinner to take a ride in the neighborhood.
"No, not exactly that, though politeness slides into it unawares: it is a very humble quality, a very unpoetic quality; a quality that many dull people possess; and yet without it no fairy can fascinate mortals, when on the face of the fairy settles the first wrinkle. Can you not guess it now?"
They never descended to the ravine, because it was so unpoetic, a treeless, shallow, dull, unterrifying spot. Yet it skirted the hills, dominated the surrounding country; and people lying flat in the channel at its summit could survey the locality for a mile round without being seen themselves. Alexander Alexandrovitch was a married man.
For every day he, Kenny, lingered in selfish penance on the road, he must pay in a widening of distance between Brian and himself. Kenny quickened his sagging foot-steps. Drenched and hungry, he felt himself better able to see the thing in sane and unpoetic light. It came to this: Would Brian prefer the rags of romantic loitering to the speed, train or otherwise, of eager affection? Surely not!
I was obliged in order to catch my train to leave during the prayer, and the last view I caught of the service as the train went by the shops was a sight of the great crowd pouring out of the tent and forming in open ranks while the coffin was borne out by six of the women. It is a long time since I have seen such a picture in this unpoetic Republic."
A fire of jokes and jeers, of saucy questions and more saucy retorts of what, in fact, in the humble and unpoetic, but expressive vernacular, is called "chaff" is kept up with a vigour which seldom flags, except now and then, when the but-end of a song, or the twanging close of a chorus, strikes the general fancy, and procures for the morceau a lusty encore.
It is a fine spirit, Baron, and the American gospel though perhaps you may not like it the more on that account." "You are an American." Sydney blushed and laughed, her sweet, rich laugh. She was glad to be a little farther away from tragedy. "Shall I tell you my plan? You will see how I am practical! My salvation lies in the unpoetic shape of cattle." "Cattle?"
A little indulgence of the fancy does you no harm even though you may be all wrong; very likely the skipper of the glad-looking vessel is tipsy, maybe he has just been rope's-ending his cabin-boy or engaging in some equally unpoetic pursuit; still no one is harmed by idealizing a little, and so, by your leave, we will not alter our crude romance of the sailor-men.
There is something rude, strange, and unpoetic about him at first sight that is sure to give most readers of poetry a shock.
We can supply good verses for all these if we take pains to search, and if we eschew ignorant and unpoetic modern doggerel as we eschew poison. Besides the nursery rhymes, we have Stevenson, with his "Wind," "Shadow," and "Swing," Christina Rossetti's "Wrens and Robins," her "Rainbow Verses" and "Brownie, Brownie, let down your milk, White as swansdown, smooth as silk."
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