Interest In Poetry Research Articles

Ezra Pound and Margaret Cravens: a tragic friendship, 1910-1912

Ezra Pound met Margaret Cravens in Paris in 1910 during one of his most creative and formative periods. Margaret Cravens, of Madison, Indiana, had come to Paris several years earlier to study piano and was drawn to the young Pound out of a shared interest in poetry and the arts. Their friendship began when she offered Pound generous financial support, which continued, unknown to anyone else, until June 1912, when she committed suicide in Paris, one year after her father's suicide in Indiana. Pound was deeply affected by her death, as was the poet H. D., who had recently come to know her. Pound's letters to Cravens, extensively annotated, are published here for the first time; her suicide note to him is also included. Ezra Pound and Margaret Cravens contains photographs and previously unpublished material by Pound and H.D., as well as an excerpt from H.D.'s autobiographical novel Asphodel, in which Cravens figures prominently. This portrait of a friendship provides insight into the literary achievements of Pound and H.D. and tells the unknown story of Margaret Cravens's tragic life.

An Invisible Partnership and an Unlikely Relationship: William Stanley Braithwaite and Harriet Monroe

As they try to determine both the development and the nature of twentieth-century American poetry, historians and theorists often cite as significant such diverse considerations as Walt Whitman's influence, French literary innovations, Ezra Pound's insistence that the poet's role be reinterpreted, or the work of the little magazines to make poetry more accessible to the general public. Some credit Harriet Monroe (1860-1936) and her Poetry: A Magazine of Verse with the creation of a poetic renaissance ultimately world-wide in its scope. Yet, at a particular moment in American literary history, William Stanley Braithwaite (1878-1962) proved more important than Monroe. Arguably Braithwaite initiated this renewed interest in poetry, but literary historians have been lax in recording his contribution. Partly because of the current re-canonization of American literature, Monroe has lately received close attention; for reasons not difficult to discern, however, Braithwaite continues to be misunderstood. Perhaps no Afro-American critic ever wielded as much power as did Braithwaite; yet his work remains buried in his many anthologies of magazine verse; his name, virtually unknown to American literary historians. One does not wish to minimize Monroe's contributions, but her work takes on added dimensions when one compares it to that of Braithwaite. Furthermore, given the present interest in race and gender studies as well as in critical theory, Braithwaite's work assumes other dimensions. Not only did he create a new climate for American poetry, he also reconstructed and redefined the American poetic canon by broadening the base of authors to be considered long before this activity became a popular academic exercise. A few years after Braithwaite began his work in Boston, Monroe began hers in Chicago. In their efforts to find new audiences for poetry, they, without consciously attempting to do so, pioneered the mainstreaming of women and Afro-American writers. Had they known also that in less than a century her sex and his race would be considered significant factors in literary production, they may have treated these two issues more explicitly, but both of them while highly supportive of women and Afro-American poets saw gender and race as accidental, extrinsic matters. Conceivably, Braithwaite and Monroe might have formed a mutually fruitful partnership. Or, had they known what the future would say (or not say, as the case may be) about their work, they might have minimized their disagreements. Much of their initial animosity probably grew out of those regional distinctions that were more apparent in the latter nineteenth century and early years of the twentieth. By all historical accounts, Chicago was viewed as an upstart town, where such terms as

Psychiatry and Literature

This small volume is extraordinary. Written by a varied group of important thinkers, from pathologists to psychiatrists with special interests in poetry and the performing arts, psychiatric writers, and writers with deep psychoanalytic insights, it is a gold mine. However, just as everyone is not equipped to go prospecting, this book is only for those with these special interests and willing to put in the time and effort to grasp what is offered. I am saying that it took time and effort to obtain the rewards herein. Thomas Szasz, with his usual offbeat approach, offers some valuable ideas, noting that "psychiatrists use different explanations to account for the behavior of mentally healthy and mentally sick persons." I must confess that this is the first time I realized this, and he is right. He also considers "art" and observes that<i>intentionality</i>, or deliberate effort, is the necessary requirement for art. It

Framing and polyphony: readings in Hellenistic poetry

‘Then babble, babble words, like the solitary child who turns himself into children, two, three…” Beckett.In this paper, I intend to discuss three central Hellenistic poems: Callimachus'Hymn to Zeus, Theocritus'Idyll11 andIdyll7. Each of these poems holds a privileged position in the discussion of the Hellenistic era as well as in each poet's corpus. I am certainly not offering here what could be called complete or exhaustive readings of these works – that would be far beyond the scope of a paper of this length; rather, I want to focus on a key point of interpretation in each poem. In theHymn to Zeus, I am going to investigate the language of truth; inIdyll11, the poem's structure of frame and song; and inIdyll7, the poem's programmatic force. There are two aims in this strategy: the first is to investigate the topic of the ‘poet's voice’ in Hellenistic poetry. The three poems and the three topics of my discussion are linked in the concern for how a poet places himself within his poetry – ‘Who speaks?’, as Roland Barthes put it. The interest in poetry and how a poet relates to his poetry is a constant and fascinating theme through these works, and each of the topics I have chosen to discuss will illuminate this interest from a different aspect. Secondly, through a consideration of these three key moments of interpretation, I shall be arguing for an increased awareness of the complexity and subtlety of Hellenistic poetry. I intend to show how critics' approaches and decisions with regard to these nodes of interpretation, which may be regarded as paradigmatic, have led to a worrying oversimplification of Hellenistic poetry. I hope to show in some measure how the intellectual complexity which makes these poems so hard to read and to criticize, can also be a source of their continuing interest and delight for us.

Style in W. C. Williams and Charles Ives

William Carlos Williams has, over the last twenty years or so, come to be seen as part of a broad aesthetic movement rather than as an idiosyncratic, isolated voice. He has been linked with Yeats, Eliot, Thomas, and Stevens in the development of a of reality1 and with photography and painting in the teens and twenties; and, of course, he has been widely recognized as a major source for contemporary poets. But Williams' ties to music have been slighted. His poetry is musical as often as visual in its orientation; counterpoint is one of his own common descriptions of his verse and a term unavoidably used by his critics. Musical analogy in Williams clearly deserves some study, but even more interesting is his relationship to composers of his day. Mike Weaver has noticed Williams' interest in George Antheil,2 but there has been little analysis of the similar styles developed in music and literature early in the century. The similarities between Williams and Charles Ives are especially clear. Although Ives and Williams were almost exact contemporariesboth lived to eighty years, Ives dying in 1954 and Williams in 1963they were not significantly aware of each other. Williams may well have heard of Ives through his contact with George Antheil and other composers, but I know of no evidence that Ives's music held any importance for him. Ives had no interest in poetry, especially recent poetry; he thought it was sissy and (like Williams) sought an art that was muscular and direct, thinking poetry full of European ideals of prettiness and grace. So there is no question of direct influence,

Poets and Princepleasers: Literature and the Court in the Late Middle Ages by Richard Firth Green

sion: a rejection of passion for a higher, spiritual love. And if Wood is right about Troilus, both establish a connection between the individual’s subver­ sion of reason by misdirected desire and the political ills of an entire society. Vox Clamantis serves Wood well, but not nearly as well as the Confessio might have done had he been a less cautious scholar. But the author warned the reader that the study is “introductory,” so he should not be seriously faulted for what he has not done. What he has done with considerable success is to reveal Chaucer’s skilful and coherent manage­ ment of the poem’s elements, suggesting at the same time a number of new critical directions which can profitably be pursued. donald f . chapin / University of Western Ontario Richard Firth Green, Poets and Princepleasers: Literature and the Court in the Late Middle Ages (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1980). ix, 253. $20.00 Prolific of texts, barren of genius, the fifteenth century seems to promise little to those whose interests in poetry extend beyond the archival. But the fifteenth century led toward the sixteenth century as well as away from the fourteenth, and Poets and Princepleasers has much to offer those who are in any way interested in the progress of English literature after Chaucer. The English literary renaissance was not simply transplanted from Italy, and it has become increasingly clear in recent years that many of the more puzzling questions about the genesis of Elizabethan attitudes toward poetry will only be answered when we have a better understanding of late medieval attitudes. Such sixteenth-century studies as H. A. Mason’s Humanism and Poetry in the early Tudor Period and John Stevens’s Music and Poetry in the Early Tudor Court have suggested the need for a better understanding of the courtly context of late medieval literature — the suggestion is implicit, for example, in Mason’s provocative assertion that the study of Wyatt’s court lyrics belongs to sociology rather than to literature — but the textual focus of these studies precludes any detailed exploration of the ways in which the court served to promote and define literary activity. Poets and Prince­ pleasers, by reversing the direction of approach and starting not with the literary texts but with the structures and concerns of court society itself, provides a valuable complement to existing critical studies. The first half of the work is an impressive exercise in historical recon­ struction. Green’s concern here is “to convey some idea of the kind of house­ hold in and for which the late medieval poet worked” (100). To do this he 491 draws on a wide range of materials — court literature, chamber accounts, household ordinances, library inventories, records of seigneurial establish­ ments, chronicles, middle-class correspondence, and, where the English records leave parts of the canvas unfilled, the (probably) analogous prac­ tices of the French and Burgundian courts. What emerges from his account of the royal household — the familia regis, and its inner circle, the camera regis — is a portrait of a disciplined and at the same time highly competi­ tive society, one that was large enough to provide considerable variety of occupation and opportunity — by the 1470s the familia of Edward IV numbered about 600 — and one that was for most of its members virtually self-enclosed, a “complete environment” demanding an almost total commit­ ment. One’s place in the familia was determined largely by service and patron­ age — the twin realities underlying the conventional formulae of the “modesty topos” — and literacy was an important qualification, not only for the increasing number of laymen meeting the court’s clerical needs, but also for those who aspired to admission to the camera regis. The camera, com­ prising those who had daily contact with the king, was the cultural centre of the familia. For its members the writing of poetry was a fashionable though not an important activity, and it was often the recipient of literary (and other) work written either as a commission or for presentation. Letters, however, were more than matter for entertainment. By the late fourteenth century instruction in both “nouriture” and “lettrure” — the latter extending to...

After Symbol-Picking

found of arousing student interest in poetry and of evoking class discussions about it. As a teacher of literature, I have often been a participant in exchanges similar to the one below. The scene is a college classroom and the course a survey of American literature. INSTRUCTOR. Beyond the obvious, literal meaning, does anyone find any symbolic overtones in the speaker's references to apple-picking? (The students quickly cast their eyes downward and begin to scribble furiously in their notebooks. Finally, out of the corner of his eye, the instructor detects a hand raised to a semi-vertical position just above a desk top.) Yes, Miss Jones? (Relieved, the other students cease writing and peer at Miss Jones.) MISS JONES. (hopefully) Well, I think Frost may be referring to the plight of the migrant farm-worker in California. (She crinkles her nose and flashes the instructor a winsome smile.) INSTRUCTOR. That's no commonplace reading, Miss Jones. Does the poem offer supportive evidence for your interpretation? We've said that the meaning of a symbol must lie within the poem, not outside it.

On the Matter of Literary Surveys

VIABLE DEPARTMENTS define their subject, and having done so create an introductory course that previews the undergraduate curriculum. Unfortunately, we in English do not now have such a definition. The combined bulk of survey texts in English and American literature illustrates the problem. It is absurd to expect anyone, much less an introductory student, to read and understand all that material, though many teachers apparently subscribe to the notion that excerpts from The Fneric Qzeene and Blake's prophetic books can be read in slapdash fashion. Most teachers follow some kind of selection process in teaching such texts, as their whims or specialties direct. It is foolish to impose so much bulk upon a student and call this mass a survey. A strictly chronological or historical organization makes no sense at all in literature, where the difficulty of comprehension increases prettv much in direct proportion to distance in time. We should change our principle of organization. Re-doing the survey actually implies a drastic revision of the whole philosophy of literature and its place in our society. Since this reorientation involves a challenge to many academic assumptions, I will briefly summarize the basis of my theor!r before outlining the plan itself. The first and most fundamental change was to think of a survey in the context of the modern world, the cultural revolution that began around 1500 and continued into the twentieth centurv. The last major poetic statement on the end of this era was, of course, The Waste Land. The central problem, as I saw it, was to find a thematic principle that would give the flavor of this era. Following Erich Fromm, I took psychology as the center of my interpretation, with his theme of alienation resulting from the breakup of the Middle Ages. Following Whitehead (Science and the Modern World, Ch. 5), I took the Romantic revolution as the pivotal point in this modern world. When the Romantics challenged the Baconian illusion of scientific infallibility and inviolability by a balanced interactionism, the mind of man became the dominant interest in poetry, then in fiction, and now even in science itself. This revolution in consciousness, with its option of dynamic ordering in aesthetic as well as psychic experience, gives the counterthrust to a restricting scientism and sets up the tensions that have dominated the modern world. I will begin my description of the new survey in English literature by stating the three premises that underlie the course structure. Because of space, I will

Tibullus 1. 7: A Tribute to Messalla

T HE central problem in the interpretation of Tibullus 1. 7 is to determine the meaning of the hymn to Osiris and its relation to the rest of the poem.1 A secondary problem is to account for the exceptionally large number of literary allusions and echoes from other poets.2 The solution that I should like to propose is that both the hymn and the literary echoes are used as tributes to Messalla. Tibullus has artfully complimented his patron by equating him with the god Osiris.3 He has included the literary allusions as a tribute to Messalla's interest in poetry. The poem as a whole thus is not only an acknowledgment of Messalla's achievements as a general and an administrator, but also a compliment to his intellectual interests and his connoisseur's knowledge of Roman and Alexandrian poetry. In order to show that this is the case, I shall discuss first Messalla himself and then the poem in which Tibullus praises him.

William Hume-Rothery, 1899-1968

William Hume-Rothery was born on 15 May 1899. His hyphenated surname reflects his immediate ancestry; his grandfather, William Rothery, was a clergyman of advanced views, who married Mary Hume, an authoress, with whom he shared an interest in poetry. Mary was the daughter of Joseph Hume, who died in 1855. He was a Member of Parliament, of radical persuasions, a Freeman of the City of London, one of the founders of University College London, and was concerned in the development of the British Museum. He became a Fellow of the Royal Society, and was one of the movers of the 1832 Reform Bill. There is evidence that he was economyminded, particularly in relation to the Privy Purse, which did not particularly commend him to his Sovereign. William and his wife, who took the name Hume-Rothery, lived for some time in the North of England, but eventually, at about the time of William’s resignation from the Ministry, moved south to Cheltenham. Their son, Joseph Hume Hume-Rothery (our William Hume-Rothery’s father) was born in 1866, and lived at Cheltenham until his own marriage to Ellen Maria Carter. Joseph never went to school; he was educated by tutors, and it is a tribute both to him and to them that he took First-class Honours in Physics at London University (1886), became a Scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge, and was 16th Wrangler in 1890. He then read Law and was called to the Bar in 1893. After his marriage, Joseph and his wife moved to Worcester Park, Surrey, and it was here that William Hume-Rothery was born. Finding his work as a patents lawyer somewhat uncongenial, Joseph and his family returned to Cheltenham, where their son William, with two young sisters, spent most of his childhood

The Peripatetics as Literary Critics

STUDIES OF AN INTERPRETATIVE KIND in which the Greeks tried to understand and evaluate their heritage can be traced at least as far back as the fifth century B.C. Sophocles said to have written a work the Chorus;' Hippias of Elis seems to have studied Homer in some detail;2 and, as the scholar whom this collection intended to honour has maintained, Aristophanes' Frogs is the most important critical document we possess from the fifth century.3 But it was the fourth century which witnessed a conscious and intensive attempt by the Greeks to approach their own literature critically. Whether Plato could have written a dialogue like Aristotle's On Poets one cannot tell (for all we know, Aristotle's dialogue may have been written while he was under the influence of Plato); the fact that he did not, and it to his great successor that we must look for the true beginning of systematic interest in poetry by the Greeks. I propose here to pass over the founder of the Peripatetic school and his immediate successor4 in favour of a closer look at other members of the School who shared the master's interest in a formal approach to poetry. From the outset, the Peripatetics' interest seems to have been largely biographical. But, as a discussion of a poet's life invariably involved s?me consideration of his works and often, too, a comparison with other poets, something genuinely involving literary criticism could hardly have been avoided. A glance at the fragments of what has generally been considered the forerunner of the later treatises, Aristotle's dialogue Ilepl ro7riwv, shows this to have been the case.5 In it Empedocles was described as 'O1.pPLK6S and powerful in diction, being great in metaphors and in the use of all other poetical devices.6 Some little space seems to have been devoted to the origin of the dialogue-form and the artistic, or mimetic quality of Plato's dialogues in particular., Euripides was criticized for an inaccurate detail in his Meleager and Homer's birth was discussed at length, if somewhat fancifully.8

The Autobiographical Element in "Sobre los ángeles"

At the end of 1959, there appeared in Buenos Aires Rafael Alberti's La arboleda perdida. Libros I y II de memorias. Alberti had published the first book of these memoirs in Mexico in 1948, but this closed with the day in 1917 when the poet's family left Puerto de Santa Maria for Madrid. The 1959 edition, more than three times as long as that of 1948, deals with the poet's life up to 1931, thus taking in the beginnings of Alberti's interest in poetry and the composition of all the books of his pre-communist period. It therefore offers to the student of Alberti's poetry a wealth of new and fascinating material.

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL ELEMENT INSOBRE LOS ÁNGELES

At the end of 1959, there appeared in Buenos Aires Rafael Alberti's La arboleda perdida. Libros I y II de memorias. Alberti had published the first book of these memoirs in Mexico in 1948, but this closed with the day in 1917 when the poet's family left Puerto de Santa María for Madrid. The 1959 edition, more than three times as long as that of 1948, deals with the poet's life up to 1931, thus taking in the beginnings of Alberti's interest in poetry and the composition of all the books of his pre-communist period. It therefore offers to the student of Alberti's poetry a wealth of new and fascinating material.

Edmund Taylor Whittaker, 1873-1956

Edmund Taylor Whittaker was born on 24 October 1873, the eldest child of John Whittaker and his wife Selina, daughter of Edmund Taylor, M.D. The family belonged to the district where the river Ribble forms the boundary between Lancashire and Yorkshire: his father, John Whittaker (1820-1910) was the youngest son of the first marriage of Henry Whittaker (1780-1853) of Grindleton near Clitheroe, who was the sixth of the eight sons of Richard Whittaker of Rodhill Gate near Grindleton. Several of Richard’s descendants were men of distinction in the late Victorian period, among them the Right Hon. Sir Thomas Palmer Whittaker (1850-1919), for many years M.P. for the Spen Valley division of Yorkshire, and Sir Meredith T. Whittaker (1841-1931), of Scarborough. His father on his marriage to his mother—whose father practised as a physician at Middleton near Manchester—settled in Southport. Though not well off, they were able to live on their private means: and there Whittaker was born. In childhood he was extremely delicate, and his time was spent almost entirely with his mother, who devoted herself to him and was in his earlier years his only teacher. As he grew older he grew stronger, and at the age of eleven was sent away from home to the Manchester Grammar School, which then dominated education in Lancashire. He was on the classical side, which meant that three-fifths of his time was devoted to Latin and Greek: in the lower forms, where the study was purely linguistic, he did well: but his lack of interest in poetry and drama caused a falling-off when he was promoted to the upper school, and he was glad to escape by electing to specialize in mathematics. Only after he had left school did he discover the field of Latin and Greek learning that really appealed to him—ancient and mediaeval theology, philosophy and science.

The Contemporaneity of the Lyrical Ballads

AFRUITFUL but unfrequented approach to the Lyrical Ballads is through the poetry of the magazines. The volume unquestionably belongs to 1798, and seen in relation to the popular verse of that day, its contemporaneous features are very striking. We have been asked to consider too exclusively the revolutionary aspects of the Lyrical Ballads. Revolutionary they unquestionably were, but not in every respect. Except that they were much better than other poems published in 1798, the Ballads were not such a "complete change" as some writers would have us believe.1 Even their eccentricity has been exaggerated. Actually, there is a conventional side to the Lyrical Ballads, although it is usually overlooked. It is by way of the general taste for poetry in the 1790's that this essay will approach the poems, and it will attempt to show that they not only conformed in numerous ways to the modes of 1798, and reflected popular tastes and attitudes, but enjoyed a certain popularity in the magazines themselves. The general interest in poetry during the last decades of the eighteenth century, also, is a phenomenon which is largely ignored, although it is relevant in a number of ways to the new poetry of Southey, Coleridge, Wordsworth, Byron, and Scott. Something is known of the popularity of such writers as Helen Maria Williams, Anna Seward, Erasmus Darwin, W. L. Bowles, "Peter Pindar," Charlotte Smith, Henry James Pye, Mary Robinson, and Mrs. West; but except for Bowles they are usually dealt with summarily as a deservedly forgotten generation. For most historians they are the "modern writers" whose "gaudiness and inane phraseology" were repudiated by the Advertisement and the Preface of the Lyrical Ballads. But critical as Wordsworth was of his contemporaries, he cannot be completely dissociated from them. He belonged to their generation, and he addressed himself to their audience. Moreover, he

Whittier and Some Cousins

THOUGH the letters here published for the first time' do not add striking information about the facts of Whittier's life, they have a certain interest because of their informality, and present the pleasant relationships of a group of Friends whose family ties meant much. Moses Austin Cartland, to whom most of the letters were addressed, was second cousin to Whittier on the Hussey side; Samuel Hussey was Whittier's grandfather; Phebe Hussey, Samuel's sister, was Cartland's grandmother. Other members of the Cartland family were Hannah, Caroline, Anna, Joseph, Phebe, and Jonathan, all of whom were typical Friends, interested in education, social betterment, and political causes. Moses, born in 1805, was pupil and then teacher, 1825-1834, in the Friends' Yearly Boarding School at Providence, now the Moses Brown School, where Caroline taught and Joseph and Phebe were pupils. Joseph and his wife, Gertrude Cartland, were principals of the School from 1855 to 1860, having been already associated with it before their marriage, one as teacher, the other as principal in the Female Department. Moses, Joseph, and Jonathan looked much like the poet, for each had the tall, spare figure, the clear-cut features, and brilliant eyes inherited, according to long family tradition only, from Stephen Batchelder, whose daughter married Christopher Hussey. In their young manhood Greenleaf and Moses were especially drawn together by their ardor for Abolition, their independence of mind in matters of political and ethical import, and their interest in poetry and journalism. Both were spontaneous writers of prose and verse, but Moses Cartland's work in these fields was secondary to his duties as

CULTURAL EDUCATION OF A PHYSICIAN

In an address delivered at the commencement of the Medical School of Harvard University at the Medical College in Boston, March 9, 1870 the Honorable Preston Peabody 1 spoke to the graduating class; he stressed particularly the importance of general culture: To your professional knowledge you need to add general culture as wide and thorough as your special studies and labors will permit. You owe this to yourselves, to your brethren, to your calling. You owe it to yourselves; for the man who confines himself to a single department, however noble it may be, sacrifices his own intellectual manhood; moves, not in a self-returning circle, but in a constantly diminishing spiral, and from year to year becomes less, and not beautifully less. You have a vital interest in poetry, literature and art—in all that is beautiful and grand in the works of God and man. You need them for recreation,

Evaluating the Leisure Reading of High-School Pupils

DO HIGH-SCHOOL pupils like to read books in their leisure time? Is their reading of fiction largely confined to lurid tales of the type featured in drugstore circulating libraries, or does it frequently include books comparable in quality to those found in highschool literature courses? Is there any genuine interest in poetry, biography, the essay, science, and other types of nonfiction? Has frequent attendance at motion pictures made the reading of published plays an uninviting occupation? Is there any evidence of an increasing appreciation of more mature types of reading materials as the pupils advance from grade to grade? As a means of securing reliable answers to questions of this kind, the Bronxville (New York) High School has, for a number of years, employed the plan of having pupils keep a continuous record of all books which they read, apart from those specifically required for class work. Throughout the school, but especially in the English classes, pupils are encouiraged to spend part of their leisure time in extending their acquaintance with worth-while books. The literature program consists of a common core of experience as represented by the reading and discussion of such books as David Copperfield, Giants in the Earth, Hamlet, and various anthologies of literature, supplemented by additional reading which the pupil selects for himself from a wide range of suggested books. There are no rigid requirements in regard to the amount or the character of the supplementary reading. To a large degree the pupil is free to read much or little; he is urged only to be quite frank with himself and his teachers in the statements which he makes concerning his reading. The record sheet on which the pupil records his leisure-reading experi-

Children's Interests in Poetry. Miriam B. Huber , Hebert B. Bruner , Charles M. Curry

Previous articleNext article No AccessEducational WritingsChildren's Interests in Poetry. Miriam B. Huber , Hebert B. Bruner , Charles M. Curry R. L. LymanR. L. Lyman Search for more articles by this author PDFPDF PLUS Add to favoritesDownload CitationTrack CitationsPermissionsReprints Share onFacebookTwitterLinkedInRedditEmail SectionsMoreDetailsFiguresReferencesCited by The Elementary School Journal Volume 27, Number 9May, 1927 Article DOIhttps://doi.org/10.1086/462103 Views: 1Total views on this site Copyright 1927 University of ChicagoPDF download Crossref reports no articles citing this article.

Children'S Interests in Poetry

Children'S Interests in Poetry