This is the age of science, of steel — of speed and the cement road. The age of
hard faces and hard highways. Science and steel demand the medium of
prose. Speed requires only the look — the gesture. What need then, for poetry?
There are souls, in these noise-tired times, that turn aside into unfrequented
lanes, where the deep woods have harbored the fragrances of many a
blossoming season. Here the light, filtering through perfect forms, arranges
itself in lovely patterns for those who perceive beauty…
Roy J. Cook