That a
vigorous race like the Danish, confined, as it is in modern times,
within a narrow arena of action (and forbidden to do anything on that),
should have developed it to a rare perfection seems, as I have already
remarked, almost a psychological necessity.
Holger Drachmann, in his capacity of lyrist, has also a strain of the
Hamlet nature; although, in the case of a poet, whose verses are in
themselves deeds, the assertion contains no reproach. I am not even sure
that the Protean quality of Drachmann's verse--its frequent voicing of
naturally conflicting tendencies--need be a matter of reproach. A poet
has the right to sing in any key in which he can sing well; and
Drachmann sings, as a rule, exceedingly well. But, like most people with
a fine voice, he is tempted to sing too much; and it thus happens that
verses of slipshod and hasty workmanship are to be found in his volumes.
In his first book of "Poems" he was a free oppositional lance, who
carried on a melodious warfare against antiquated institutions and
opinions, and gave a thrust here and a thrust there in behalf of
socialists, communists, and all sorts of irregular characters.
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