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of communicating by such signs an authentic spiritual experience. We cannot separate the tares from the wheat by distinguishing a naturalistic from a symbolic laflguage. It is not by an intellectual or categorical activity that we can judge of the intensity of any artist's vision. We cannot judge except by our own response; and whether or not we can respond, will depend on our own state of grace. The critic is the measure of his own critique.
MOUNT AUBURN
BY ELIZABETH J. COATSWORTH
In the whole graveyard there is not a nymph
To rustle through the yellow fall of leaves,
Upon a tomb a pitying angel grieves,
And pigeons wrapped in Tyrian purple shawls
Forget the shrine of Cyprus in the sea
To sit upon the headstones gloomily.
Only the yellow trees are casual
Of all the meager dust they stand above—
And still ignoring death, shout "hail!" to love.