and many a lyric flash like:
The stars, like bells, flash down the silver sky ...
Ringing like chimes on frozen trees, or cry
Along the marble ground.
_Second Poems_ (1920) has a similar beauty mixed with banality. Both
booklets are a jumble of passion, platitude, bad grammar and
exaltation. Curran has absolutely no critical perceptions; he has
little control over his music. For better or for worse, his mood
controls him.