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19th Century American Poet: Harriet Monroe - Nevermorepoem.com Harriet Monroe, born in 1860, stands as one of the pivotal figures in 19th-century American poetry. Her contributions as a poet and editor helped shape the

Harriet Monroe’s ability to blend traditional forms with modernist impulses made her a key figure in the evolution of American poetry, and her legacy continues to influence poets today.
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Ain't no shade like old-timey shade:

“His genius was betrayed by lofty and indomitable traits of character which could not yield or compromise. And so his life was a tragedy of inconsequence.” #HarrietMonroe, quoted in #TheDevilInTheWhiteCity

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The Inner Silence

Noises that strive to tear
Earth's mantle soft of air
And break upon the stillness where it dwells:
The noise of battle and the noise of prayer,
The cooing noise of love that softly tells
Joy's brevity, the brazen noise of laughter—
All these affront me not, nor echo after
Through the long memories.
They may not enter the deep chamber where
Forever silence is.

Silence more soft than spring hides in the ground
Beneath her budding flowers;
Silence more rich than ever was the sound
Of harps through long warm hours,
'Tis like a hidden vastness, even as though
Great suns might there beat out their measures slow
Nor break the hush mightier than they.
There do I dwell eternally,
There where no thought may follow me,
Nor stillest dreams whose pinions plume the way.

The Inner Silence Noises that strive to tear Earth's mantle soft of air And break upon the stillness where it dwells: The noise of battle and the noise of prayer, The cooing noise of love that softly tells Joy's brevity, the brazen noise of laughter— All these affront me not, nor echo after Through the long memories. They may not enter the deep chamber where Forever silence is. Silence more soft than spring hides in the ground Beneath her budding flowers; Silence more rich than ever was the sound Of harps through long warm hours, 'Tis like a hidden vastness, even as though Great suns might there beat out their measures slow Nor break the hush mightier than they. There do I dwell eternally, There where no thought may follow me, Nor stillest dreams whose pinions plume the way.

'The Inner Silence' by Harriet Monroe, 1914.

#modernism #poetry #poem #harrietmonroe #art #literature #avantgarde

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