Abstract

T HE poetry of Jones Very seems pure. It seems alarmingly (or boringly) simple. True, Very chronicled a psychomachy: self and will versus God and Providence; but God's victory was assured. The chronicle lacks drama. Here is a warrior we envy-or endure. So consistent, so uncomplicated! If that is how we read Jones Very's verse, we are not, I believe, reading what Very wrote. Or rather, we are reading one Very. There were several Verys: the Hellenist, the belletrist, the preacher of the Gospel,' the martyr of the Holy Ghost, the enthusiast and prophet, the nature poet. And each of these Verys was articulate. The critics are not alone in reducing this compound of many simples. The poet's image of himself was reductive, as were the testimonials of Ralph Waldo Emerson, William Ellery Channing, William P. Andrews, and James Freeman Clarke.

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