Comet and Other Verses, The by Irving Sydney Dix (1880 - 1948)

A few years ago, while recovering from an illness, I conceived the idea of writing some reminiscent lines on country life in the Wayne Highlands. And during the interval of a few days I produced some five hundred couplets,—a few good, some bad and many indifferent—and such speed would of necessity invite the indifferent. A portion of these lines were published in 1907. However, I had hoped to revise and republish them, with additions of the same type, at a later date as a souvenir volume of verses for those who spend the summer months among these hills—as well as for the home-fast inhabitants. But in substituting the following collection of verses I hope my judgment will be confirmed by those who chance to read these simple stanzas of one, who— <br /><br />"Loves not man the less, but Nature more <br />From those our interviews, in which I steal <br />From all I may be or have been before, <br />To mingle with the Universe and feel <br />What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal." <br /><br />(Summary by Irving Sydney Dix)