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DUTCH POETRY AND ENGLISH

tijden". Of all such utterly melodious songs the poet has truly the right to say:

"Mijn verzen volgen 't kloppen van mijn bloed

En gaan zacht-mijmrend of met dansers-spoed."

They have their place with: "Swiftly walk over the Western wave", "Life of Life! thy lips enkindle", "On a poet's lips I slept", "1 arise from dreams of thee".

If I have cited many pieces of Kloos', 1 have done so in no random manner, but only after the most careful examination of the text. Deliberately the temptation has been avoided of making the criterion the possibility of being able to find the neat chapter and verse: after all, I take it, we are dealing in creative, and not mere translation, values. Even Dr Dekker stumbles in essaying the task in his own fashion; though to his credit, be it said, he does so by asserting a spirit more than usually venturesome. When from him we have the admission over a particular comparison that "in diepste kern het hulle iets gemeen",1 can there be any doubt that his dogmatic grasp is decidedly slackening? Nevertheless, 1 would still have his words apply to the poetry of Shelley and Kloos viewed more in its totality: only occasionally are my doubts of the Dekker method really stilled. They are, of necessity, when I read:

"O mijn gedachten vliegen heen en weder,

Als dorre blaren op den avondwind,"

where the "Ode to the West Wind" comes so obviously to the rescue. And, again, when I encounter:

"Kom Gij dan, nu ik val... Ziel van mijn Ziel,

Die niets dan droom zijt... 'k roep u aan: O, koom!"

borne straight from "Epipsychidion". But is it not possible that the Shelleyan ring may be as authentic whether or not "Prome-

1 Op. cit., p. 126.

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