They are but the scenery of the play, and have much less to do with the poetic character than has been imagined.
Neither Mexico nor Switzerland has produced any remarkable poet.
I do not think a Poets' Convention would help the matter.
In fact, the matter needs no helping. Life, II. 19, 20.
In the same way he speaks with regret, three years later, November 5, 1847, of The prospectus of a new magazine in Philadelphia to build up a national literature worthy of the country of Niagara—of the land of forests and eagles.
One feels an inexhaustible curiosity as to the precise manner in which each favorite poem by a favorite author comes into existence.
In the case of Longfellow we find this illustrated only here and there.
We know that The Arrow and the Song, for instance, came into his mind instantaneously; that My Lost Youth occurred to him in the night, after a day of pain, and was written the next morning; that on December 17, 1839, he read of shipwrecks reported