Nearer my Father's house, Where the many mansions be; Nearer the bound of life, Where we lay our burdens down; Nearer gaining the crown! But lying darkly between, Winding down through the night, Closer and closer my steps Come to the dread abysm: Closer Death to my lips Presses the awful chrism. Oh, if my mortal feet Have almost gained the brink; Father, perfect my trust; Let my spirit feel in death, On the rock of a living faith! 9. Thomas Buchanan Read (1822-1872) was a Pennsylvania artist and a poet of no mean ability. His most famous poem is the battle song Sheridan's Ride, which follows. SHERIDAN'S RIDE I. Up from the South, at break of day, The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar 2. And wider still those billows of war As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray, 3. But there is a road from Winchester town, A good broad highway leading down; And there through the flush of the morning light, A steed as black as the steeds of night, He stretched away with his utmost speed; 4. Still sprang from those swift hoofs, thundering south The heart of the steed and the heart of the master Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play With Sheridan only ten miles away. 5. Under his spurning feet the road And the landscape sped away behind 6. The first that the general saw were the groups What was done,-what to do,-a glance told him both, And, striking his spurs with a terrible oath, He dashed down the line mid a storm of huzzas, And the wave of retreat checked its course there because The sight of the master compelled it to pause, With foam and with dust the black charger was gray; By the flash of his eye and the red nostrils' play He seemed to the whole great army to say, "I have brought you Sheridan all the way From Winchester, down to save the day!" 7. Hurrah! hurrah for Sheridan ! Hurrah! hurrah for horse and man! And when their statues are placed on high, 10. Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) lived a life of seclusion at Amherst, Massachusetts, where she wrote some remarkable poems which are in a class by themselves. They were not published until 1890, four years after her death. (See Bibliography, page 294, for suggested readings.) II. Edward Rowland Sill (1841-1887) was a native of New England. He went to California for his health, where he became professor of English literature in the University of California. He "exhibited a notable talent in his poetry, which shows rich gifts of spiritual insight and power," says Professor Simonds. THE FOOL'S PRAYER The royal feast was done; the King Sought some new sport to banish care, The jester doffed his cap and bells, He bowed his head, and bent his knee "No pity, Lord, could change the heart ""Tis not by guilt the onward sweep Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay; 'Tis by our follies that so long We hold the earth from heaven away. "These clumsy feet, still in the mire, Go crushing blossoms without end; "The ill-timed truth we might have kept Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung! The word we had not sense to say Who knows how grandly it had rung! "Our faults no tenderness should ask, The chastening stripes must cleanse them all; "Earth bears no balsam for mistakes; Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool The room was hushed; in silence rose 12. Emma Lazarus (1849-1887) was a Jewess of New York City who wrote some remarkable poems protesting against the persecution of her race in Russia. She had a message to deliver to her people, but unhappily it was given only in part, because of her untimely death. (See Bibliography, page 294, for suggested readings.) 13. Walt Whitman (1819-1892), the most unconventional of all our poets both in choice of theme and form of expression, aspired to be the poet of Democracy. He was born on Long Island, was practically self-educated, became a teacher, and later a journalist. During the Civil War he went to Washington where he served as nurse in the hospitals. His latter days were spent in Camden, New Jersey, where he was known as the good gray poet of Camden Town." He is sometimes called "the poet of epithets, phrases, lines." "His message was unique, his manner of giving it bizarre," yet he was a real force in literature and has had much influence. Mr. Edmund Gosse calls him a poet in solution. The following extracts show not only his eccentricities of form but his sincerity of purpose. In O Captain! My Captain! and some other poems he demonstrates that it was possible for him to follow regular form if he so willed. |