Reception
"A dainty memorial volume ... gathered from the Century Magazine, Scribner's Independent and other periodicals to which Mr. Blood was a highly appreciated occasional poetic contributor. The work of selection has been made with taste and judgment he little volume is handsomely made." Cleveland Plain Dealer, March 9, 1902, p. 25.
"Selected Poems by Henry Ames Blood is a book published by the Neale Company, Washington, D. C. It is attractive in appearance, and the verses, many of which are reprints from the best magazines, have strength and a real poetic beauty of expression. The last one in the book, "Ad Astra," appeared first in the Century Magazine, and is spirited and fine. There are thirty poems, some long, some short, but all worthy of consideration by lovers of poetry." Overland Monthly, v. 39, no. 5, May 1902, p. 920.
"In the 'Selected Poems' of Henry Ames Blood may be found many fresh and cheery bits of verse, most of which have already been published in literary journals, but whose collection in permanent form is not amiss. They make no effort to soar into the heights of poetry, but are picturesque and spirited, with here and there a touch of genial humor." The Era, v. 10, no. 2, August 1902, p. 222.
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Famous quotes containing the word reception:
“He’s leaving Germany by special request of the Nazi government. First he sends a dispatch about Danzig and how 10,000 German tourists are pouring into the city every day with butterfly nets in their hands and submachine guns in their knapsacks. They warn him right then. What does he do next? Goes to a reception at von Ribbentropf’s and keeps yelling for gefilte fish!”
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“But in the reception of metaphysical formula, all depends, as regards their actual and ulterior result, on the pre-existent qualities of that soil of human nature into which they fall—the company they find already present there, on their admission into the house of thought.”
—Walter Pater (1839–1894)
“I gave a speech in Omaha. After the speech I went to a reception elsewhere in town. A sweet old lady came up to me, put her gloved hand in mine, and said, “I hear you spoke here tonight.” “Oh, it was nothing,” I replied modestly. “Yes,” the little old lady nodded, “that’s what I heard.””
—Gerald R. Ford (b. 1913)