I IB 'iiiii i'>i'i miEB,S.ON VEHABLE liijll 1 ill i' i 1 1 iKIiM.lil iiiiiiil;M!l i iiiiiiiiiL III! |.'lM|.|ilimirllli!lljiililll PS BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF Denrg W. Sage 1S9X ^££££_2^£X 7/ ///.g.-.. 6896-1 Cornell University Library PS 571.03V34 Poets of Ohio selections representin( 3 1924 022 009 913 " All books are subject to recall after two weeks. Olin/Kroch Library DATE DUE ^isM' ii#^i^ m r^ GAYLORD PRINTED IN U S A Cornell University Library The original of tliis bool< is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022009918 POETS OF OHIO Phoebe Cary William H Lyile Sarah M. B. Piatt William Davis Gallagher Coates Kinney William Henry Venable William Dean Howells Alice Gary John James Piatt Edith M. Thoma; POETS OF OHIO SELECTIONS REPRESENTING THE POETICAL WORK OF OHIO AUTHORS FROM THE PIONEER PERIOD TO THE PRESENT DAY, WITH BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES AND NOTES EDITED BY Emerson Venable cincinnati The Robert Clarke Company mdccccix ^l'^^\iu Copyright, J909, by Emerson Venable PREFACE THIS volume was compiled for the purpose of supplying libraries, reading circles, public schools, and colleges, with a convenient anthology fairly representing the rich and diversified poetical achievement of Ohio authors, from the pio- neer period to the present day. The student wishing further to extend his knowledge of the poetry of the Buckeye State, is referred to the bibliographic lists given in the Appendix. To Dr. F. B. Dyer, Superintendent of Public Schools of Cincinnati, at whose suggestion the volume was prepared with special reference to educational demands, the editor gratefully records his obligation for many helpful criticisms, and for encour- agement received from commendatory words endorsing the book as a desirable repository of select verse comprising abundant and varied material for reading supplementary to the prevailing inter- mediate and high-school courses in American literature. Special acknowledgment is rendered to Mr. I. Benjamin, for his courtesy in furnishing original photographs of several of the writers whose portraits appear in the frontispiece; to the Historical and Philosophical Society of Ohio, which loaned for reproduction the rare silver-print cabinet-picture of Phoebe Gary; and to Mr. Anthony Bill, (with Mr. Benjamin,) for pre- paring the group of likenesses from which the half-tone was made. Thanks are due to the Houghton Mifflin Co. for the privi- lege of reprinting poems by W. D. Howells, Edith M. Thomas, and Alice and Phoebe Cary; to Harper & Brothers, for poems by W. D. Howells and Alice Archer S. James ; to Rand, McNally & Co., for poems by Coates Kinney; to Dodd, Mead & Co., for poems by W. H. Venable ; to The Century Co., for poems by Alice PREFACE Archer S. James, John Bennett, Henry H. Bennett, and Alice Williams Brotherton; to the J. B. Lippincott Co., for poems by Thomas Buchanan Read ; to Little, Brown & Co., for poems by Sarah C. Woolsey; to The Robert Clarke Co., for poems by William D. Gallagher and William H. Lytle; to Richard G. Badger, for poems by Edith M. Thomas and W. H. Venable; to the Atlantic Monthly, for poems by Alice W. Brotherton; to the Youth's Companion, for a poem by H. H. Bennett; and to Dodd, Mead & Co., for poems by Paul Laurence Dunbar. In the preparation of this anthology some two hundred volumes, comprising the published verse of more than one hun- dred Ohio writers, were examined. The editor had frequent occasion to consult the pages of various standard works of reference, among which he would specially mention : Cogge- shall's The Poets and Poetry of the West (1860) ; Stedman's An American Anthology (1901) ; Venable's Beginnings of Literary Culture in the Ohio Valley (1891) ; Venable's Literary Men and Women of Ohio (1904) ; Gallagher's Selections from the Poeti- cal Literature of the West (1841) ; Thomson's Bibliography of Ohio (1880) ; Biographical Cyclopaedia of Ohio (1887) ; Adams's A Dictionary of American Authors (1902) ; and Who's Who in America (1908-9). Thanks are returned to Mr. N. D. C. Hodges, of the Public Library of Cincinnati ; to Mr. C. B. Galbreath, of the Ohio State Library, Columbus; to Mr. W. H. Brett, of the Public Library of Cleveland; and to Mr. Herbert Putnam, of the Library of Congress, Washington, D. C, — for the loan of numerous publi- cations now out of print. E. V. Cincinnati, Ohio, September, igog. CONTENTS WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER (1808-1894) page Biographical Sketch 15 Extracts from "Miami Woods :" The Primeval Forest 17 Glimpses of June 18 Autumn 19 Indian Summer 19 The Coming of Winter 33 In Memoriam 33 The Song of the Pioneers 36 The Spotted Fawn 29 "Ah ! Well-a-way !" 30 May 31 August 31 Truth and Freedom 33 Conservaltism 33 JULIA A. DUMONT (1794-1857) Biographical Sketch 34 The Future Life 35 EDWARD A. Mclaughlin (1798- ?) Biographical Sketch 37 The Seminole 38 Extract from "The Lovers of the Deep :" "Poor Have I Lived" 41 HARVEY D. LITTLE (1803-1833) Biographical Sketch 43 On Judah's Hill 43 OTWAY CURRY (1804-1855) Biographical Sketch 44 The Lost Pleiad 46 The Goings Forth of God 47 To a Midnight Phantom 48 Buckeye Cabin 49 POETS OF OHIO FREDERICK WILLIAM THOMAS (1811-1866) page Biographical Sketch 51 Extracts from "The Emigrant:" Daniel Boone 52 The Indian 53 'Tis Said that Absence Conquers Love 54 LEWIS FOULKE THOMAS (1815-1868) Biographical Sketch 56 Love's Argument 56 CHARLES A. JONES (1815-1851) Biographical Sketch 58 Tecumseh 59 The Old Mound 61 DANIEL DECATUR EMMETT (1815-1904) Biographical Sketch 63 Dixie 64 ALICE CARY (1820-1870) Biographical Sketch 66 Balder's Wife 68 Pictures of Memory 69 Now, and Then 71 Tricksey's Ring 72 The Gray Swan 77 Idle 79 Nobility 80 An Order for a Picture 81 "Thy works, O Lord, interpret Thee" 82 My Dream of Dreams 82 PHOEBE CARY (1824-1871) Biographical Sketch 83 Our Homestead 84 The Only Ornament 85 True Love 87 Song 88 Vain Repentance 88 A Weary Heart 88 THOMAS BUCHANAN READ (1822-1872) Biographical Sketch 90 Sheridan's Ride 91 8 CONTENTS THOMAS BUCHANAN READ (1832-1872)— Con. page Drifting 93 The Closing Scene 96 WILLIAM JAMES SPERRY (1823-1856) Biographical Sketch 99 A Lament for the Ancient People 100 WILLIAM PENN BRANNAN (1825-1866) Biographical Sketch 103 Extracts from "Saint Mary's Hospital :" "The east is red with beacon-fires" 103 "The sunshine flashes down the walls" 103 "And where is he that died today?" 103 "I will not bow with patient knees" 104 "I envy every bird that flies" 105 HELEN LOUISA BOSTWICK BIRD (1826-1907) Biographical Sketch 106 Drafted 107 My Mountain 109 My Island 109 My River 110 My Lake Ill So Many Times Ill How the Gates Came Ajar 113 The Lost Image 113 The Little Coffin 114 In the Fisher's Hut 115 Too Fine for Mortal Ear 116 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE (1826-1863) Biographical Sketch 117 Antony and Cleopatra 119 Popocatapetl 120 Macdonald's Drummer 122 Brigand's Song 124 Anacreontic 136 In Camp 137 "When the Long Shadows" 138 COATES KINNEY (1836-1904) Biographical Sketch 129 . Extracts from "Mists of Fire:" Oneirode 134 Antoneirode 137 POETS OF OHIO COATES KINNEY — Con. page To an Old Appletree 139 Miscellaneous Extracts 141 Consummation 145 "Did I Not Realize?" 146 Ships Coming In 146 Child Lost 148 Egypt 149 Rain on the Roof 151 FLORUS BEARDSLEY PLIMPTON (1830-1886) Biographical Sketch 153 Summer Days 156 The Reformer 157 Pittsburg 159 In Remembrance 159 Return 160 Springtime 161 Waiting to Die 161 BENJAMIN RUSSEL HANBY (1833-1867) Biographical Sketch 163 Darling Nelly Gray 163 JOHN JAMES PIATT (1835—) Biographical Sketch 165 King's Tavern 169 Honors of War 170 Sonnet — in 1862 171 The Golden Hand 172 The Morning Street 173 The Open Slave- Pen 175 A Lost Kingdom of Gods 176 Farther 177 The Book of Gold 177 Sundown 178 A Voice in Ohio 178 Taking the Night-Train 179 Reading the Milestone 180 The Three Work-Days 181 Use and Beauty 181 Torch-Light in Fall-Time 183 10 CONTENTS JOHN JAMES PIATT — CoH. page At Home 182 The Guerdon 182 SARAH MORGAN BRYAN PIATT (1836—) Biographical Sketch 183 Leaving Love 185 A Doubt 186 Transfigured 187 The Thought of Astyanax before lulus 188 No Help 189 Calling the Dead 190 A Pique at Parting 191 Caprice at Home 192 The House below the Hill 194 Sad Wisdom — Four Years Old 196 To be Dead 196 A Look into the Grave 197 The Highest Mountain - 197 Life and Death 193 "I Want It Yesterday" 19S In Doubt 199 Say the Sweet Words 199 For Another's Sake 199 Little Christian's Trouble 200 My Wedding Ring 200 To — 201 WILLIAM HENRY VENABLE (1836—) Biographical Sketch 203 My Catbird : a Capriccio 205 The Founders of Ohio 207 The Teacher's Dream 207 National Song 210 An Old Spanish Bugle 211 Immortal Birdsong 213 Summer Love 213 Coffea Arabica 214 A Welcome to Boz 216 The Poet of Clovernook 218 A Gentle Man 219 Inviolate 220 A Diamond 230 11 POETS OF OHIO WILLIAM HENRY VENABLE — Con. page From "Floridian Sonnets :" "The Golden Treasury" 221 Milton 221 Wordsworth 223 Sursum Corda 232 Mutation 233 To Coates Kinney 323 WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS (1837—) Biographical Sketch 224 The Movers 323 Forlorn 238 In Earliest Spring 231 Dead 232 Society 233 Respite 234 DENTON JAQUES SNIDER (1841—) Biographical Sketch 235 Extracts from "Delphic Days :" Elpinike 236 SARAH CHAUNCEY WOOLSEY (1845-1905) Biographical Sketch 242 Gulf-Stream 242 Good-bye 243 Bereaved 245 Ashes 246 Thorns 247 ALICE WILLIAMS BROTHERTON Biographical Sketch 249 The Blazing Heart 350 Rosenlied I 251 Rosenlied II 252 The Poison Flask 252 My Enemy 254 The Living Past 256 A Persian Fable 257 Campion 257 The Spinner 258 Shakespeare 259 Woman and Artist 259 12 CONTENTS EDITH MATILDA THOMAS (1854^) page Biographical Sketch 261 Dead Low Tide 262 Thefts of the Morning 263 Wild Honey 265 Syrinx 266 Avalon — Fair Avalon 267 At Lethe's Brink 268 Vertumnus 270 A Rainbow 371 Migration 371 "Oft Have I Wakened" 373 THOMAS EMMETT MOORE (1861—) Biographical Sketch 373 Soul Song 374 Light 275 The Palmer 275 HENRY HOLCOMB BENNETT (1863—) Biographical Sketch 276 The Flag Goes By 377 The Redbird's Matins 378 JOHN BENNETT (1865—) Biographical Sketch 380 The Merry Springtime 281 Song of the Hunt 282 Song of the Dutch Cannoneers 283 To the Robin That Sings at My Window 283 The Hills of Ross 284 Obstinacy 385 FRANCES NEWTON SYMMES (1865—) Biographical Sketch 286 Heart Stirrings 287 Repression 287 Listening 288 Fate 388 Revival 289 Forebodings 289 Afterwards 289 Twilight '. 290 Dawn 390 13 POETS OP OHIO WILLIAM NORMAN GUTHRIE (1868—) page Biographical Sketch 291 The Lion 292 Evocation 896 An Old Nest 297 A Respite 297 In Vain 298 Higher Mathematics 299 Whence? Whither? 299 ALICE ARCHER SEW ALL JAMES (1870—) Biographical Sketch 300 The Passing of the Wild 301 Youth 303 To A New-Born Baby 304 Say Not Farewell 307 PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR (1872-1906) Biographical Sketch 309 Harriet Beecher Stowe 312 Weltschmertz 313 Angelina 314 Little Brown Baby 315 Parted 316 Hymn 317 OHIO COMMEMORATION ODES. Ohio Centennial Ode. . . .by Coates Kinney 321 Cleveland Centennial Ode. . . .by John James Piatt 326 Cincinnati: A Civic Ode.... by William Henry Venable 335 APPENDIX — Reference-Lists, Bibliographic and Critical 345 WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER, son of Bernard and Abigail (Davis) Gallagher, was born in Philadelphia, Pa., August 21, 1808. His father, an Irish refugee and a former compatriot of Robert Emmet, died in the year 1814, two years after which event the widowed mother and her four young sons, Edward, John, William, and Francis, removed to Cincinnati. William received his first rudimentary knowledge of books in a log schoolhouse near Mount Healthy, Ohio, and later he attended for a time the Lancaster Academy, an institu- tion which in 1819 was reorganized and chartered as the Cin- cinnati College. Young Gallagher learned the printer's trade, working successively on several Cincinnati newspapers, and while yet in his nonage, collaborating with his brother Francis, he conducted a short-lived sheet called the Western Minerva. In 1830 he went to Xenia, where for nine months he edited the Backwoodsman, a campaign organ favoring Henry Clay, the Whig candidate for President, and where, in the summer of 1831, he married Miss Emma Adamson, of 'Cincinnati. Return- ing with his wife to the Queen City, in the following autumn, he entered upon his first important literary undertaking, the editorship of the Cincinnati Mirror and Ladies' Parterre, a family journal of wide influence. In 1835 Mr. Gallagher removed to Columbus, where, besides writing leading editorials for the Ohio State Journal, he established a vigorous monthly magazine, the Hesperian. In 1839 he was invited by the distin- guished journalist, Charles Hammond, to become assistant editor of the Cincinnati Daily Gazette, a position which he accepted and which he held until 1840, when, upon the death of Hammond, he was chosen editor-in-chief. In 1850 he was appointed private secretary to Thomas Corwin, after whose retirement from Fill- 15 POETS OF OHIO more's Cabinet he went to Louisville, where, as one of the pro- prietors of the Daily Courier, he championed the presidential candidacy of Corwin. On severing his relations with the Courier in 1854, he withdrew to a rural estate which he had purchased near Pewee Valley, where the family thereafter resided for thirty years. He was a delegate to the National Convention which nomi- nated Abraham Lincoln, and at the outbreak of the Civil War he became private secretary to Salmon P. Chase. He was later appointed, by Lincoln, Special Commercial Agent for the Upper Mississippi Valley, and in 1863, Surveyor of Customs for Louisville. In the year 1867 Mr. Gallagher was bereft of his wife, who died of heart-failure, at Fern Rock Cottage, Pewee Valley. Of the nine children she bore to him, two are yet living, Mrs. Jane Cotton and Miss Frances Gallagher. The venerable poet died at his home in Louisville, June 27, 1894. He was buried in Spring Grove Cemetery, Cincinnati, beneath the shade of native forest trees, within a few paces of the spot marked by the monument to his old friend Rufus King. Preeminent among the early poets of Ohio, Gallagher, in his day, exerted in the West a persistent and formative influence comparable to that exerted in a wider field by his more distin- guished New England contemporaries, to several of whom he bears a certain intellectual and moral kinship. His rugged and energetic "Ballads of the Border," no less than his spirited songs of freedom, are resonant with the same bold and manly note as that which rings clear in the stirring verse of Whittier; and in his calmer and more exalted moods our Western pioneer bard brings to the temple of Nature the same devout and unquestion- ing faith as that which finds solemn utterance in "Thanatopsis" and "Forest Hymn." What Bryant did for the ancient woodlands of the East, and Longfellow for the live-oak and cypress groves of Louisiana, Gallagher, in the stately and melodious verse of his Western pastoral, "Miami Woods," has done for the majestic primeval forests of southern Ohio. 16 WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER No other American poet brings the reader into more vital contact with Nature, — into closer communion with birds and breezes, hills, streams, trees, and flowers, — than does the author of "Miami Woods;" and no other American writer has depicted with a more delicate and absolute realism, — with truer eye to color, form, and motion, — the varying aspects of the changing year. MIAMI WOODS (Extracts) "/ know each lane, and every alley green. Dingle or bushy deU of this wild wood, And every bosky bourn from side to side. My daily walks and ancient neighborhood." — Milton. Sage monitors of youth are wont to say The eye grows early dim to nature's charms. And commerce with the world soon dulls the ear To heavenliest sounds. It may be so ; but I, Whose feet were on the hills from earliest life, And in the vales, and by the flashing brooks. Have not so found it : — deeper in my heart. Deeper and deeper year by year, has sunk The love of nature, in my close, and long. And fond companionship with woods and waves, With birds and breezes, with the starry sky. The mountain-height, the rocky gorge, the slope Mantled with flow'rs, and the far-reaching plain That mingles with the heavens. THE PRIMEVAL FOREST i Around me here rise up majestic trees That centuries have nurtured : graceful elms. Which interlock their limbs among the clouds ; ^Topic-headings here employed do not, of course, appear in the original text. 17 POETS OF OHIO Dark-columned walnuts, from whose liberal store The nut-brown Indian maids their baskets fill'd Ere the first pilgrims knelt on Plymouth Rock; Gigantic sycamores, whose mighty arms Sheltered the Redman in his wigwam prone, What time the Norsemen roamed our chartless seas ; And towering oaks, that from the subject plain Sprang when the builders of the tumuli First disappeared, and to the conquering hordes Left these, the dim traditions of their race That rise around, in many a form of earth Tracing the plain, but shrouded in the gloom Of dark, impenetrable shades, that fall From the far centuries. GLIMPSES OF JUNE How beautifully glimmer on my sight The fresh green fields afar ! How grandly rise The groves that gloom around me ! What a hush Broods o'er this dell! And how yon hillside basks In the full blaze of this unspotted day ! * * * * A statlier growth is now Giving green glory to the forest-aisles. And beauty to the meadows. Far away The elder-thicket, robed in brightest bloom, Is shining like a sunlit cloud at rest ; Nearer, the briar-roses load the air With sweetness ; and where yon half-hidden fence And toppling cabin mark the Pioneer's First habitation in the wilderness, The gay bignonia to the ridge-pole climbs. The yellow willow spreads its generous shade Around the cool spring's margin, and the old And bent catalpa waves its fan-like leaves And lifts its milk-white blossoms. Beautiful! 18 WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER AUTUMN The autumn time is with us ! — Its approach Was heralded, not many days ago, By hazy skies that veiled the brazen sun, And sea-like murmurs from the rustling corn, And low-voiced brooks that wandered drowsily By pendent clusters of empurpling grapes Swinging upon the vine. And now, 'tis here ! And what a change hath pass'd upon the face Of nature, where the waving forest spreads. Then robed in deepest green ! All through the night The subtle frost has plied its magic art ; And in the day the golden sun hath wrought True wonders ; and the winds of morn and even Have touch'd with magic breath the changing leaves. And now, as wanders the dilating eye Athwart the varied landscape, circling far, What gorgeousness, what blazonry, what pomp Of colors, bursts upon the ravished sight ! Here, where the poplar rears its yellow crest, A golden glory ; yonder, where the oak Stands monarch of the forest, and the ash Is girt with flame-like parasite, and broad The dogAvood spreads beneath, and, fringing all. The sumac blushes to the ground, a flood Of deepest crimson ; and afar, where looms The gnarled gum, a cloud of bloodiest red. INDIAN SUMMER — The weary gales Come sighing from the meadows up the slope, And die in plaintive murmurs : in the elm The jay screams hoarsely, and the squirrel barks Where the old oak stands naked : from the leaves. That rustle to my tread, an odor comes 19 POETS OP OHIO As of mortality. It is the sad, Sweet period of the year our calends call The "Indian Summer." Beautifully pass The seasons into this. The harvest done, The summer days round slowly with a hush Into the quiet of the August noons. Fields then lie bare ; the skies grow milky-blue ; The streams run lazily ; the tiniest child Can jump the brooks, or wade them dry at knee ; One far retired in this wide Wood, can hear Its deep heart throb, so still is every thing : Out o'er the meadows, where from earliest morn The grazing herds have fed, they quit the dry. Hot grasses, and seek out the shadiest pools. Where, plunging belly-deep, they thus await The cooler eve's approach so quietly, They look like statues from red granite hewn. Or cast in bronze, or cut in ivory ; The restless sheep are scattered, each with nose Thrust in protecting grasses ; by the bars, Beneath the walnut shade, the horses doze The mid-day hours away ; around the fields. The groves are silent ; dotting here and there The faded landscape, like gray clouds at rest. The old farm-houses lie ; the lolling dog. That ever claims the shadow of the porch. Frets the hot noon through ; all is still beside. The quivering flame of August noons, at length, Burns out ; and with September's equinox The earth grows cooler, and the quicken'd airs More freshly touch the cheek : but summer's breath Yet lingers, till the still October comes With frosty nights, and slumberous, sunny days : Then falls the leaf ; then fades along the fence The golden-rod ; then turns the aster pale ; 20 WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER Then fly the song-birds, by the robin led, Whose voices through the summer months have fill'd The woods with music, far to southern haunts. In orange thickets by Suwanee's shore, And Mississippi's broad magnoHa groves. A sweet, voluptuous languor fills the air : The sun is shorn of his bright beams, and looks Redly and dimly down upon the earth : The moon glows like a buckler, as she mounts In quiet from the misty depths, which now No marked horizon separates from the dome That spreads above : the starry hosts are lost. All but the larger lights, which dimly walk The heavens alone. * * * * -phe warm And wanton airs that through the slumberous day Steal gently up from southern climes, caress The willing cheek, and fold the languid frame In long embraces, and on couches spread In sunny spots of silence, thickly strewn With sweetest smelling leaves, lie down with it In panting ecstacies of soft delights. Now all the woodlands round, and these fair vales. And the broad plains that from their borders stretch Away to the blue Unica, and run Along the Ozark range, and far beyond Find the still groves that shut Itasca in. But, more than all, these old Miami Woods, Are robed in golden exhalations, dim As half-remembered dreams, and beautiful As aught of Valambrosa, or the plains Of Arcady, by fabling poets sung. The night is fill'd with murmurs, and the day Distils a subtle atmosphere, that lulls 21 POETS OF OHIO The senses to a half repose, and hangs A rosy twilight over nature, like The night of Norway summers, when the sun Skims the horizon through the tedious months. THE COMING OF WINTER — Now, from the stormy Huron's broad expanse, From Mackinaw and from the Michigan, Whose billows beat upon the sounding shores And lash the surging pines, come sweeping down Ice-making blasts, and raging sheets of snow : The heavens grow darker daily ; bleakest winds Shriek through the naked woods ; the robber owl Hoots from his rocking citadel all night ; And all the day unhoused cattle stand Shivering and pinch'd. By many a potent sign The dark and dreary days of winter thus Inaugttrate their king. A summer bird, I fly before his breath. — Loved haunts, farewell ! IN MEMORIAM "A solitary sorrow, antheming A lonely grief." _ ^eats. I see her now, through shadows and through tears, In all her beauty wandering by my side,^ And hear her voice, with snatches of old song. Swell up, and die away, and wake again. — Vain apparition ! memories vainer still ! Ye make me feel how much alone I am. More than I felt before : ye bend the bow. And barb the arrows that transfix my heart. •The reference in these beautiful and tender lines is to the poet's daughter Mary, who died in girlhood. 22 WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER Oh, from this scene the bloom hath faded now ; And that which was the soul of it to me, The glory and the grace, sits far away. Beneath the shadow of a sorrow big With all that can affright, or overwhelm. . . . My heart would break — my stricken heart would break, Could I not pour upon the murmuring winds, When thus it swells, the burden of its woe. In words that soothe, how sad soe'er they be. 1 Sweet bird that, deep in beechen shades embower'd, Sittest and pour'st the sorrow of thy heart, Till all the woods around Throb as in heavy grief — Mourn now with me : in deepest shades of sorrow Sits my lone heart, and pours its plaint of woe. Till in sad unison Throbs every heart around. 2 Sweet brook, that over shining pebbles glidest In quiet, with a low and plaintive moan. Made to the listening woods And to the leaning flowers — Mourn now with me : like thine my life in quiet Glides on and on, with songs of flowers and woods ; Nor asks a gayer scene. Or other auditors. 3 Sweet summer wind, that, high among the branches Of elm, and poplar, and of towering oak, Sighest the morning out, Sighest the evening in — 23 POETS OF OHIO Mourn now with me : in and from early boyhood, I've loved with you these lone and sinless haunts, Nor asked to pour my song Where the proud world might hear. 4 Sweet bird, sweet brook, sweet summer wind, oh listen ! Come to me from the throbbing beechen shade, From moaning hollows come, And from the sighing trees — Mourn now with me : mourn for the dear one absent, Who loved you with a love as strong as mine : Mourn for the mind's eclipse — Unutterable woe ! I had a little sprite whose name was Hope — It sang glad songs into my eager ear ; But when most loved its notes died all away. And now its songs are still'd forevermore — Forevermore. I heard a voice, born of my human love, Speak to my human weakness words of joy; Each was as sweet as sounds of dulcimers. But all are silent now forevermore — Forevermore. I held within my own a little hand, White as the moon, and it became as cold ; I pressed it to my lips in agony ; 'T was then withdrawn — withdrawn forevermore ■ Forevermore. I've worn a faded lily on my breast These many days, these many weary days ; But now, by unseen fingers touch'd, it falls. It falls away, and falls forevermore — Forevermore. 24 WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER Oh, many are the sweet and gentle flowers, Caught by untimely frosts, that droop and die Ere half their beauty has disclosed itself : The dews of evening and the stars of night Watch o'er and weep for them, and kindly airs Bear them to earth, and lay them in repose. And many are the pure and gentle Ifcarts, Untimely touched by Death, that render up The hopes and promises of opening life Without a murmur, and go calmly down. Along the way of shadows, to the grave. And such an one has just been laid to rest, Here, where the hectic leaf of autumn falls And strews the fresh-heap'd earth, and where the pale And perishing blossoms of the year lie low. Birds of the greenwood groves and sunny meads ! Whose voices ever fill'd her with delight. Come from the mirror of the glassy pool. Come from the thicket's edge where berries hang, Come from each airy perch and favorite haunt, And from your sweet and ever-plaintive throats Pour forth, in soft and melancholy staves, A dirge above the loved and early lost ! Winds of the spring-time ! ye that bear the sounds Of far-off murmurs on your dewy wings, And steal a cadence from the running brook. That rob the insect of its hum, and catch The harp's last note, still trembling on the strings. Pause here a little while, above this grave. And in the tenderest tones of all, breathe out A requiem for the loved and early lost. 25 POETS OF OHIO 3 Light breezes of the summer ! wandering far, Combine in one the many sounds of grief Ye gather in your long and lonely way, And wed with them all sounds of earth and air Too sorrowful for other company, And murmur them at morn and eventide, And in the hush of noon, above the spot Where sleeps in death the loved and early lost ! 4 Soft, sighing gales of autumn ! from the brown And melancholy meadows, from the gloom Of rocky caverns, from the plaining woods. That mourn the hectic leaf and fading flower. From deepest hollows and from highest hills. Bring all the soft, sweet voices that are born. And pour the saddest plaint that ever yet Was uttered, for the loved and early lost! THE SONG OF THE PIONEERS i 1 A song for the Early Times Out West, And our green old forest-home. Whose pleasant memories freshly yet Across the bosom come : A song for the free and gladsome life In those early days we led. With a teeming soil beneath our feet, And a smiling Heav'n o'erhead ! Oh, the waves of life danced merrily, And had a joyous flow, In the days when we were Pioneers, Fifty years ago ! 'Written early in the eighteen forties. 26 WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER 2 The hunt, the shot, the glorious chase, The captured elk, or deer; The camp, the big bright fire, and then The rich and wholesome cheer: — The sweet sound sleep at dead of night. By our camp-fires blazing high — Unbroken by the wolf's long howl, And the panther springing by. Oh, merrily pass'd the time, despite Our wily Indian foe. In the days when we were Pioneers, Fifty years ago! 3 We shunn'd not labor : when 't was due We wrought with right good will ; And for the homes we won for them, Our children bless us still. We lived not hermit lives, but oft In social converse met; And fires of love were kindled then. That burn on warmly yet. Oh, pleasantly the stream of life Pursued its constant flow, In the days when we were Pioneers, Fifty years ago ! 4 We felt that we were fellow men ; We felt we were a band Sustain'd here in the wilderness By Heaven's upholding hand. And when the solemn Sabbath came, Assembling in the wood. We lifted up our hearts in prayer To God the only Good. 27 POETS OF OHIO Our temples then were earth and sky ; None others did we know, In the days when we were Pioneers, Fifty years ago ! 5 Our forest-life was rough and rude. And dangers closed us round; But here, amid the green old trees. Freedom was sought and found. Oft through our dwellings wintry blasts Would rush, with shriek and moan ; We cared not — though they were but frail, We felt they were our own ! Oh, free and manly lives we led, Mid verdure, or mid snow. In the days when we were Pioneers, Fifty years ago! 6 But now our course of life is short; And as, from day to day, We're walking on with weakening step. And halting by the way. Another Land more bright than this. To our dim sight appears, And on our way to it we all Are moving with the years. Yet while we linger, we may still Our backward glances throw, To the days when we were Pioneers, Fifty years ago! 28 WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER THE SPOTTED FAWN i On Mahketewa's flowery marge The Red Chief's wigwam stood, When first the white man's rifle rang Loud through the echoing wood, The tomahawk and scalping-knife Together lay at rest; For peace was in the forest shades. And in the red man's breast. Oh, the Spotted Fawn! Oh, the Spotted Fawn! The Hght and Hfe of the forest shades With the Red Chief's child is gone. By Mahketewa's flowery marge, The Spotted Fawn had birth, And grew, as fair an Indian girl As ever blest the earth. She was the Red Chief's only child. And sought by many a brave; But to the gallant young White Cloud, Her plighted troth she gave. From Mahketewa's flowery marge Her bridal song arose — None dreaming, in that festal night. Of near encircling foes ; But through the forest, stealthily. The white men came in wrath ; And fiery deaths before them sped, And blood was in their path. * "The Spotted Fawn was the beautiful daughter of an Indian chief, who dwelt in the valley of the Mahketewa, who, with her bridegroom, White Cloud, was slain on her bridal night by the cruel white man who in time of peace stole in upon them in their slumbering hours. The Mahketewa is the Indian name for a stream that empties into the Ohio at Cincinnati, commonly called Mill Creek." — Howe's Historical Collections of Ohio. 29 POETS OF OHIO On Mahketewa's flowery marge, Next morn, no strife was seen; But a wail went up, where the young Fawn's blood And White Cloud's, dyed the green ; And burial in their own rude way. The Indians gave them there, While a low and sweet-toned requiem The brook sang and the air. Oh, the Spotted Fawn! Oh, the Spotted Fawn! The light and life of the forest shades With the Red Chief's child is gone. "AH! WELL -A- WAY!" Ah ! well-a-way ! The cloud will come; but after comes the sun. Youth lies within the heart, and youth and sorrow Were never strangers since the Eden-fall. Sorrow descends upon the flower of youth, As snow upon the crimson April-bloom, Not with a blighting chill, but with a soft And kindly pressure, that to youth gives strength. Warmth to the crimson blossom, and to both The panoply that shields From after-coming storms. Ah ! well-a-way ! Sin was begot in Hell, and sorrow born In Eden, but the two are ever twinn'd. Without the sin the sorrow might not come: But with the sin, the sorrow is a bright. Redeeming angel, pointing to a time When sin was not ; to an eternity 30 WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER When sin shall be no more ; and to a God Who in his mercy gave the sorrow birth, That thus the sin might die, And man again be pure. MAY (Extract) Would that thou couldst last for aye. Merry, ever-merry May ! Made of sun-gleams, shade and showers. Bursting buds, and breathing flowers ! Dripping-lock'd, and rosy-vested, Violet-slipper'd, rainbow-crested ; Girdled with the eglantine, Festoon'd with the dewy vine: Merry, ever-merry May! Would that thou couldst last for aye! AUGUST Dust on thy mantle ! dust. Bright summer, on thy livery of green ! A tarnish, as of rust, Dims thy late-brilliant sheen: And thy young glories — leaf, and bud, and flower - Change cometh over them with every hour. Thee hath the August sun Look'd on with hot, and fierce, and brassy face; And still and lazily run. Scarce whispering in their pace, The half-dried rivulets, that lately sent A shout of gladness up, as on they went. 31 POETS OP OHIO Flame-like, the long mid-day, With not so much of sweet air as hath stirr'd The down upon the spray. Where rests the panting bird, Dozing away the hot and tedious noon, With fitful twitter, sadly out of tune. Seeds in the sultry air. And gossamer web-work on the sleeping trees ; E'en the tall pines, that rear Their plumes to catch the breeze, The slightest breeze from the unfreshening west. Partake the general languor and deep rest. *Happy as man may be, Stretch'd on his back, in homely bean-vine bower, While the voluptuous bee Robs each surrounding flower, And prattling childhood clambers o'er his breast, The husbandman enjoys his noonday rest. Against the hazy sky, The thin and fleecy clouds unmoving rest : Beneath them far, yet high ■In the dim, distant west, The vulture, scenting thence its carrion-fare. Sails, slowly circling in the sultry air. Soberly, in the shade. Repose the patient cow, the toil-worn ox ; Or in the shoal stream wade, Shelter'd by jutting rocks; The fleecy flock, fly-scourged and restless, rush Madly from fence to fence, from bush to bush. Tediously pass the hours. And vegetation wilts, with blister'd root — And droop the thirsting flowers, 32 WILLIAM DAVIS GALLAGHER 'Where the slant sun-beams shoot; But of each tall old tree, the lengthening line, Slow-creeping eastward, marks the day's decline. 'Faster, along the plain. Moves now the shade, and on the meadow's edge : The kine are forth again, ^Birds flitter in the hedge. Now in the molten west sinks the hot sun : Welcome, mild eve ! — the sultry day is done. TRUTH AND FREEDOM (Extract) Be thou like the first apostles — Be thou like heroic Paul: If a free thought seek expression, Speak it boldly ! — speak it all ! Face thine enemies — accusers ; Scorn the prison, rack, or rod ! And, if thou hast Truth to utter. Speak ! and leave the rest to God. CONSERVATISM (Extract) The Owl, he fareth well In the shadows of the night ; And it puzzleth him to tell Why the Eagle loves the light. And he hooteth loud and long: — But the Eagle greets the day. And, on pinions bold and strong, Like a roused Thought, sweeps away ! 33 JULIA L. DUMONT JULIA L. DUMONT, whom her biographer in William T. Cog- geshall's The Poets and Poetry of the West,^ distinguishes as "the earliest female writer in the West whose poems, tales, and sketches have been preserved," was the daughter of Ebenezer and Martha D. Covey, who in 1788 moved from Rhode Island to Ohio, being among the pioneers of Marietta, the first Settlement in the Buckeye State. She was born in Washington County, Ohio, at Waterford, on the Muskingum River, in October, 1794. While she was still in her infancy her parents returned to Rhode Island, where her father died. Soon thereafter the widowed mother removed to Greenfield, Saratoga County, N. Y., and here Julia received her elementary education. Later she attended the Milton Academy, at which institution she manifested unmistak- able literary talent. She taught school, in 1811, at Greenfield, and, in 1818, at Cambridge, N. Y. In August, 1813, she was married, at Greenfield, to John Dumont, with whom in October of the following year she returned to Ohio, where the newly wedded couple lived for about a year and a half. In March, 1814, Mrs. Dumont accompanied her husband to Vevay, Indiana, in which picturesque village on the Ohio River she resided until her death, which occurred on January 2, 1857. Mrs. Dumont was a frequent contributor to several Cincin- nati periodicals, including the Cincinnati Literary Gazette, the Cincinnati Mirror, the Western Literary Journal, and the Ladies' Repository. No volume of verse from her pen has ever been published, although a collection of her stories and other prose writings was issued, in 1856, from the press of Appleton & Company, New York, under the title, "Life Sketches from Com- •The Poets and Poetry of the West, by William T. Coggeshall. FoUett, Foster & Co., Columbus, 1860; New York, 1864. 34 JULIA A. DUMONT mon Paths." It is a fact of peculiar interest to the student of Western history that in 1835 she had gathered materials for a Life of Tecumseh, the famous Ohio Indian Chief. Sincerity and moral earnestness are qualities never absent from Mrs. Dumont's verse, which, though too often lapsing into mediocrity, is characterized at times not less by originality of thought than by imaginative fervor and melodious charm. THE FUTURE LIFE (Extract) Well, let me meet the thought — it hath no power To daunt the soul that knows its heavenly birth ; Pass, pass away ! brief splendors of life's hour, The sights, the sounds, the gorgeous hues of earth. All sights, all sounds, all thoughts and dreams of time. Of a pure joy that wake the passing thrill, Are yet but tokens of that better clime. Where life no more conflicts with change or chill. The flush, the odor of the summer rose. The breath of spring, the morning's robe of light. The whole broad beauty o'er the earth that glows. Are of the land that knows no touch of blight. The melodies that fill the purple skies. The tones of love that thrill life's wide domain, Are all but notes of the deep harmonies Poured round the Eternal, in triumphant strain. And I, while through this fading form of dust There burns the deathless spark, derived from Him, May look on change with calm, though solemn trust, Bearing a life its shadows may not dim. 35 POETS OP OHIO Oh bless'd assurance of exulting faith! Humble, and yet victorious in its might, Through the dark mysteries of decay and death, Sustaining on, — a pillar still of light. The life immortal! of a peace intense. Holy, unchanging, save to brighter day. How fails the mind in upv^^ard flight immense. When, to conceive it, human thoughts essay! How fade the glories of our fairest spheres, As faith's fixed eye pursues that heavenward flight! The hopes and joys, the pain, the passionate tears. How shadowy all — phantasmas of the night ! What I am now, and what I once have been. E'en when each pulse with health's full bound was rife, Melt as a dream ■ — • a strange and struggling scene, A dim and fitful consciousness of life. Pass, pass away ! things of a fondness vain, Fade on, frail vestments meant but for decay; I wait the robes corruption may not stain, The bloom, the freshness of immortal day. 36 EDWARD A. Mclaughlin EDWARD A. McLaughlin, author of a discursive poem in four Byronic cantos, ^ entitled "The Lovers of the Deep," inspired by the adventures of a sea-faring life, was born at North Stamford, Conn., January 9, 1798. Being dis- charged from the naval service on account of impaired health, in 1829, he became a wanderer, a new-world troubadour, and, under the impulse of an imaginative spirit, he wrote with remark- able energy and correctness of form, considering his entire lack of school education and of literary training. His volume, much of which was composed in Cincinnati, was published in that city in 1841, by Edward Lucas, and is dedicated to Nicholas Long- worth. Among its miscellaneous contents are poems inscribed to Stephen S. L'Hommedieu, Peyton S. Symmes, Bellamy Storer, and Jacob Burnet. We have not been able to ascertain the date or the place of McLaughlin's death. In the autobiographical preface to his poems the author naively relates : "I am a native of the State of Connecticut, and from my youth have been rather of a lively and roving disposi- tion. At an early age I absconded from home, with an intention of joining the army; but was reclaimed, and shortly afterward bound an apprentice to the printing business. At the age of twenty-one, I indulged my military enthusiasm, and joined the Missouri expedition. At the reduction of the army in 1821, I received my discharge at Belle Fontaine, and, descending the Mississippi, commenced a new career on the ocean. I liked this *The author of "Childe Harold" noted with pride his growing popularity in the free- dom-loving West. "These are the first tidings that have sounded like fame to my ears, — to be redde on the banks of the Ohio," he recorded in his diary, December 5, 1813. — No- where in the world, perhaps, was Byron hailed with more enthusiasm than in the Ohio Valley, where he had many admiring readers, and where the iniSuence of his genius is discernible in both the form and the spirit of the verse of several of the pioneer bards. 37 POETS OP OHIO element better than the land; and the desire of seeing foreign countries induced me to follow, for some years, the life of a sailor. Being discharged at one time from the La Plata frigate, in Carthagena, Colombia, I was forcibly impressed into the Patriot service. After many vicissitudes of fortune, I was enabled, through the generous assistance of George Watts, British Consul for that Republic, to return home. I subsequently entered the American Navy, in which I served about three years and a half. My last voyage was in the Hudson frigate, on the Brazil station, from which ship I was sent home an invalid, to Washington, where I was finally discharged from the service in 1839. — I have written under many and great disadvantages. With a mind not characterized by any great natural force; stored with but little reading, and that mostly of a local and superficial character; without books of any kind — not even a dictionary — I was thrown altogether upon my own slender resources. The leading poem was begun and concluded under circumstances never above want: though a regard for truth constrains me to acknowledge that these circumstances were not unfrequently the consequence of a lack of moral firmness and stability on my own part — to say the least of it — induced by the sudden and unlooked-for overthrow of cherished hopes and desires." THE SEMINOLE Inscribed to Stephen S. L'Hommedieu, Esq. (Extract) Muse of the wild, unlettered birth of Time, In native grace and purity arrayed; Simple, yet powerful; artless, yet sublime — Whose dwelling is the wilderness of shade. Or deep romantic glen — or vale embayed Between the green-bound hills, where Nature smiles In her prolific joy, and sits displayed The blooming Queen of continents and isles : Low lies thy freeborn Son — victim of treacherous wiles. 38 EDWARD A. M'LAUGHLIN Inspire the heart, and guide the hand of him, Who sings the requiem of the Seminole! Nerveless his arm — his eagle eye is dim. And in the Land of Spirits wakes his soul : There mourns the tempest he could not control — That, like the whirlwind, oaks nor rocks withstand. Launched from the Andes, or the stormy pole — Hurled ruin on his tribe — scattered his band, And drenched in their best blood the Indian Hunters' land ! Famine and war pursue the hapless race, The unsheathed sword is gory with their blood — In dismal swamps they seek a resting place. And waste their feeble strength against the flood ; Or, driven far within the marshy wood, Where scattered hammocks heave their heads in sight, Like oases on Sahara's bosom strewed; The hunted Warriors rally all their might. And, side by side, renew the stern but hopeless fight. Shout ! Seminoles, once more your battle cry, And grapple, throat to throat, the tyrant foe ! Call up your wrongs, rouse all your chivalry. And deal a deadly wound with every blow ! Remember sires', and wives', and children's woe — Remember with your blood your land is red. And that your fathers' ashes sleep below: Strike for revenge — palsy their souls with dread — Hurl them all down to earth, and pile it with their dead ! It may not be — their destiny is told — The Master Spirit of his tribe is gone ! Wrapt in earth's bosom, rigid, wan, and cold. The violated Warrior lies alone. With none but strangers o'er his grave to moan : No files of those he led to victory Surround the Chief whom Freedom calls her own — 39 POETS OF OHIO Whose barbed shaft was winged for Hberty — Whose warwhoop rung the knell of pale-faced tyranny. The noble Captive bears him unsubdued. Albeit with manacles his limbs they bind : His unquenched spirit towers in haughty mood, And fiercer burns as feels its force confined — They cannot chain the freedom of the mind, Degrade him as they may : a Roman's part The lofty Chief sustains, and bows resigned: In silence, broods o'er his deep wrongs, apart, Weeps for his country's woes, and sinks — a broken heart. Muse, whom I invoke within the deep Recesses of the wood, in numbers wild; Shall retribution — shall red vengeance sleep. When cries from earth the blood of Nature's child ; Whose green retreats the murderer hath defiled. And poured life's purple stream in every grove? Thy blooming vales, where innocence beguiled The hours, and woke the melody of love — Are silent, tenantless, save where the demons rove. 1 hear thy voice in tones of sad despair, I mark thine eye, and vanished is its glow ; The notes of sorrow float upon the air, The bitter tears of anguish overflow: Hope sleeps in death on arid plains below, Bleak as the fields that bind the Arctic wave : And 'mid the broken arrow and the bow, Bleach there the bones of Chief and Warrior brave. The mist their winding sheet — a ruined land their grave. Thy harp, unstrung, hangs on the cypress tree. Mute as the stilly depths of solitude: No ear remains to list the minstrelsy. Save the gaunt wolf's, that prowls the dreary wood. Or panther's, scenting o'er the fields of blood : — 40 EDWARD A. M'LAUGHLIN Its wreath of flowers has faded from the view, And all the magic of its strains subdued : Thy harp dissolves away in tears of dew, As the dirge-moaning winds the listless chords sweep through. Peace, Warrior, to thy shade ! — thy sun did set, Or e'er thy morn had reached the zenith's height; But Glory crowns thee with her coronet. And Fame inscribes thy name on tablets bright: No thirst for conquest lured thee to the fight, — No blood of innocence lies on thy soul : But, battling singly for thy country's right. Thou fell — when at thy back the tyrants stole, Who quailed beneath thy glance — The Murdered Seminole ! Cincinnati, February, 1838. "POOR HAVE I LIVED" (Extract from "The Lovers of the Deep") Poor have I lived, the son of discontent, In want and sorrow — better scarce can die ; But may no nabob rear a monument To insult the dead, that, living, he passed by : Wrapt in my humble fortune, let me lie Within the green-bound wood, without a stone To mark the spot where sleeps the wanderer's eye : There would I rest in solitude, unknown, While the sweet bird of spring chants my last dirge alone. Nature, to whom my earliest song I gave. Her verdant carpet o'er my couch shall spread. Deck with wild flowers the sleeping poet's grave, And her green canopy wave o'er my head : The dewy tear shall to my memory shed. And breathe her sighs upon the zephyr's wing. While her plumed offspring, to the forest led. In imtaught strains my requiem shall sing. And answering Echo back the varied music fling. 41 HARVEY D. LITTLE HARVEY D. LITTLE was born in Weathersfield, Conn., in 1803. When but twelve or thirteen years old, he came with his parents to Franklin County, Ohio, where he spent the remainder of his life, residing first on a farm and after- ward in the city of Columbus. Early in youth he learned the printer's trade, and later he became connected successively with several Ohio newspapers, as editor and co-publisher. He studied law, and was admitted to the bar at the age of twenty-five. Domestic considerations, however, induced him to abandon the practice of law and to resume his former vocation as an editor; and he was engaged in the management of a local periodical, the Eclectic and Medical Botanist, when his career was cut short by a sudden and fatal illness. He died of Asiatic cholera, in Colum- bus, Ohio, August 33, 1833, leaving behind him a wife and one child. A sketch of Mr. Little's life, by W. D. Gallagher, and several of his poems, are preserved in Coggeshall's compilation of 1860. To quote the words of his biographer: "Mr. Little was a type of a class of young men who, though not altogether peculiar to the West, have marked this section of the Union more distinctly than any other. Harvard, Yale, West Point, and similar institu- tions in the Eastern States, have severally been the Alma Mater of men who have risen to distinction at the bar, in the army, in the pulpit, and in the halls of legislation. In the Western States, however, those places have been, and now are, to an extent which ■makes it worthy of remark, filled by men who, like Mr. Little, graduated in a printing-office instead of a college." Of the author's poetical attainment the same writer observes: "The tones of his harp were like the breathing of the 'sweet south- west,' and came upon the heart mildly and soothingly. The melody of his verse was perfect; its imagery rich; its language choice; its figures striking and appropriate." 42 HARVEY D. LITTLE ON JUDAH'S HILL On Judah's hill the towering palm Still spreads its branches to the sky, The same, through years of storm and calm. As erst it was in days gone by. When Israel's king poured forth his psalm In strains of sacred melody. And Lebanon, thy forests green Are waving in the lonely wind. To mark the solitary scene, Where wandering Israel's hopes are shrined; But the famed Temple's ancient sheen The pilgrim seeks, in vain, to find. And Kedron's brook, and Jordan's tide, Roll onward to the sluggish sea : But where is Salem's swollen pride. Her chariots, and her chivalry. Her Tyrian robes in purple dyed, Her warlike hosts, who scorned to flee? Gone! all are gone! In sullen mood The cruel Arab wanders there. In search of human spoils and blood, — The victims of his wily snare : And where the holy prophets stood The wild beasts make their secret lair. 43 OTWAY CURRY OTWAY CURRY, the eldest son of James Curry, a brave and patriotic officer in the Revolutionary army, was born March 26, 1804, on a farm which has since given place to the village of Greenfield, Highland County, Ohio. "He was a child of the wilderness," writes his biographer, Dr. Edward Thomson, " — a situation not unsuitable to awaken imagination, to cultivate taste, and to call forth the love of nature and the spirit of poesy." The scant and irregular instruction which the boy received in the back-woods log schoolhouse was both antici- pated and supplemented by careful and sympathetic home train- ing. We are told that he "heard his father relate the tale of the Revolution, the wrongs of the colonists, their determined rebel- lion, their bloody battles, and their final triumph ;" and that he "heard him describe the characters of the leading statesmen and warriors of that period, the organization of the State and National Governments, the causes, and actors, and consequences of the war of 1813." — "Moreover," continues the narrative, "the pious mother had her pleasant legends and fairy tales, with which she kept down the rising sigh, and kept open the leaden eyelids of the little ones as she sat plying her spinning-wheel, and wait- ing for the return of her husband from the mill, when the driv- ing snow-storm delayed him far into the hours of the night. She seems, indeed, to have been no ordinary woman. She was accus- tomed to relate over and over, at her fireside, the whole story of Paradise Lost, as well as of many other classic poems, so that young Otway was familiar with their scenes and characters long before he could read. She would often beguile the weary hours of summer nights as she sat in the cabin doorway with her young ones, watching for the return of the older from the perilous chase, by naming the constellations as they came up to the hori- zon, and explaining the ordinances of heaven." 44 OTWAY CURRY Thrown upon his own resources at the age of nineteen, Curry, in the year 1833, went to Lebanon, Ohio, where he learned the carpenter's trade, at which he afterwards worked, first in Cincinnati, then in Detroit, and later in Port Gibson, Miss. It was within this period of unsettled employment as a "journey- man carpenter" that he contributed to the press, anonymously, his first successful experiments in lyric composition, including the once widely popular song of faith entitled "Kingdom Come." Returning to Cincinnati in 1826, he formed the intimate acquaint- ance of William D. Gallagher, by whose influence, at a later period, his poetic achievement was brought conspicuously to the attention of the reading public. On December 17, 1828, Mr. Curry was married, in Union County, to Miss Mary Noteman; and in the following year he again went South, and spent some months in Baton Rouge. Upon his return to Ohio he settled in Union County, where for a period of ten years he devoted him- self to the pursuits of farm-life, without, however, wholly relin- quishing his literary avocation. In 1836 he was elected a mem- ber of the Ohio Legislature, to which body he was re-elected in 1837, by unsolicited suffrages. After completing his second term of office as legislator, in 1838, he was for six months associated with Mr. Gallagher as one of the editors of the Hesperian, a monthly magazine published in Columbus. In 1839 he removed to Marysville, where he commenced the study of law. He was again elected to the Legislature in 1842, and in the following year he purchased the Greene County Torch-Light, a weekly paper issued in Xenia, Ohio, to which town he removed in the spring of 1843. Disposing of his interest in this paper in 1845, he returned to Marysville, and there engaged in the practice of law. In 1850 Mr. Curry was a delegate to the second Ohio Con- stitutional Convention, which met at Cincinnati, and in January, 1854, he was President of the Ohio Editorial Convention, which also was held in the Queen City. The poet died February 17, 1855, at Marysville, Ohio. In the memoir from which we have already quoted occurs the following description of Otway Curry, and of his habits as a 45 POETS OF OHIO literary artist : "He had an open countenance, a broad and lofty brow, a noble form, tall and well proportioned, which might have borne with ease the armor of a knight of the middle ages. His spirit was that of Southern chivalry mingled with the Puritan. He was a man of fine taste. This he exhibited in his dress, his language, his reading, — in everything. , . . His words, whether written or spoken, were few and well chosen. This is the more remarkable, considering that his early education was so limited. He would allow no thought of his to go abroad in an unsuitable garment, however protracted might be the process of fitting it. When he wrote for the press his first drafts were scanned, laid aside, examined again, altered, and re-written, some- times often, before they were published. Every word was scruti- nized. Hence, his poems bear criticism, and will be best appre- ciated by those who most closely examine them." THE LOST PLEIAD Millions of ages gone. Didst thou survive, in thy enthroned place. Amidst the assemblies of the starry race, Still shining on — and on. And even in earthly time Thy parting beams their olden radiance wore. And greeted, from the dim cerulean shore. The old Chaldean clime. Sages and poets, strong To rise and walk the waveless firmament. Gladly to thee their richest offerings sent, Of eloquence and song. But thy far-flowing light. By time's mysterious shadows overcast, Strangely and dimly faded at the last, Into a nameless night. 46 OTWAY CURRY Along the expanse serene, Of clust'ry arch and constellated zone, Wfth orbed sands of tremulous gold o'erstrown. No more canst thou be seen. Say whither wand'rest thou? Do unseen heavens thy distant path illume? Or press the shades of everlasting gloom Darkly upon thee now? Around thee, far away, The hazy ranks of multitudinous spheres, Perchance, are gathering to prolong the years Of thy unwilling stay. Sadly our thoughts rehearse The story of thy wild and wondrous flight Thro' the deep deserts of the ancient night And far-off universe. We call — we call thee back, And suns of many a constellation bright Shall weave the waves of their illuming light O'er thy returning track. THE GOINGS FORTH OF GOD (Extract) God walketh on the earth. The purling rills And mightier streams before Him glance away, Rejoicing in His presence. On the plains, And spangled fields, and in the mazy vales, The living throngs of earth before Him fall With thankful hymns, receiving from His hand Immortal life and gladness. Clothed upon With burning crowns the mountain-heralds stand, Proclaiming to the blossoming wilderness The brightness of His coming, and the power Of Him who ever liveth, all in all ! 47 POETS OF OHIO God walketh on the ocean. Brilliantly The glassy waters mirror back His smiles. The surging billows and the gamboling storms Come crouching to His feet. The hoary deep And the green, gorgeous islands offer up The tribute of their treasures — pearls, and shells, And crown-like drapery of the dashing foam. And solemnly the tesselated halls, And coral domes of mansions in the depths, And gardens of the golden-sanded sea. Blend, with the anthems of the chiming waves. Their alleluias unto Him who rules The invisible armies of eternity. God journeyeth in the sky. From sun to sun. From star to star, the living lightnings flash; And pealing thunders through all space proclaim The goings forth of Him whose potent arm Perpetuates existence, or destroys. TO A MIDNIGHT PHANTOM (Extract) Pale, melancholy one. Why art thou lingering here. Memorial of dark ages gone. Herald of darkness near? Thou stand'st immortal, undefiled — 'Even thou, the unknown, the strange, the wild. Spell-word of mortal fear. Thou art a shadowy form, A dream-like thing of air ; 'My very sighs thy robes deform, So frail, so passing fair; 48 OTWAY CURRY Thy crown is of the fabled gems, The bright ephemeral diadems That unseen spirits wear. Thou hast revealed to me The lore of phantom song, With thy wild, fearful melody, Chiming the whole night long Forebodings of untimely doom, Of sorrowing years and dying gloom, And unrequited wrong. BUCKEYE CABIN^ Oh, where, tell me where, was your Buckeye cabin made' Oh, where, tell me where, was your Buckeye cabin made? 'Twas built among the merry boys that wield the plow and spade, Where the long cabin stands, in the bonnie Buckeye shade. Oh, what, tell me what, is to be your cabin's fate ? Oh, what, tell me what, is to be your cabin's fate? We'll wheel it to the Capital, and place it there elate. For a token and a sign of the bonnie Buckeye State ! Oh, why, tell me why, does your Buckeye cabin go? Oh, why, tell me why, does your Buckeye cabin go? It goes against the spoilsmen, for well its builders know It was Harrison that fought for the cabins long ago. Oh, what, tell me what, then, will little Martin do? Oh, what, tell me what, then, will little Martin do? He'll "follow in the footsteps" of Price and Swarthout too. While the long cabin rings again with old Tippecanoe. * This campaign song was written for the memorable Whig convention of February 22, 1840, when twenty thousand people from all parts of the State met at Columbus, Ohio, to ratify the nomination of Harrison and Tyler. "In the procession," says Hon. C. B. Gal- breath, in an article entitled "Song Writers of Ohio," "was a cabin on wheels, from Union County. It was made of buckeye logs, and in it was a band of singers discoursing, to the tune of Highland Laddie, the famous Buckeye song written by the poet Otway Curry." —See Ohio Arch, and Hist. Quart., Jan., 1905. 49 POETS OF OHIO Oh, who fell before him in battle, tell me who? Oh, who fell before him in battle, tell me who? He drove the savage legions, and British armies, too, At the Rapids, and the Thames, and old Tippecanoe ! By whom, tell me whom, will the battle next be won? By whom, tell me whom, will the battle next be won? The spoilsmen and leg treasurers will soon begin to run ! And the "Log Cabin Candidate" will march to Washington ! 50 FREDERICK WILLIAM THOMAS FREDERICK WILLIAM THOMAS, a native of South Carolina, was born at Charleston, in the year 1811. He came of literary stock, his father, E. S. Thomas, — who died in 1847, — being the author of Reminiscences of the Last Sixty-five Years, and his grand-uncle, Isaiah Thomas, the author of a History of Printing. His brother, Lewis Foulke Thomas, was a poet of some mark, and his sister, Martha M. Thomas, wrote a novel entitled "Life's Lessons," published by Harper & Brothers, in 1855. In 1829 Frederick removed with his father from Baltimore to Cincinnati, in which city he resided for the next twelve years, devoting himself to literary pursuits and, irregularly, to the practice of law. "In 1840," writes his biog- rapher, W. T. Coggeshall, "Mr. Thomas 'took the stump' in Ohio for William Henry Harrison, as a candidate for the Pres- idency, and won friends as a popular orator;" and subsequently he "lectured extensively with much success on 'Eloquence,' on 'Early Struggles of Eminent Men,' and other popular topics." Being appointed, in 1841, by Thomas Ewing, then Secretary of the United States Treasury, to select a library for that department of Government, Mr. Thomas removed to Washington, D. C, where he remained until 1850, when he returned to Cincinnati. Here for a brief period he occupied a pulpit in the Methodist Episcopal Church. After several years of residence in the Queen City he accepted a professorship in Rhetoric and English Literature, to which he was called by the Alabama University; but, having determined to resume the practice of law, he resigned his collegiate chair, and, in 1858, moved to Cambridge, Maryland, where he settled as an attorney. Two years later, however, he was induced again to engage in journalism, and in the spring of 1860 he became literary editor of the Richmond 51 POETS OF OHIO (Virginia) Enquirer. His death occurred in Washington, D. C, September 30, 1866. After the lapse of some years his remains were brought to Cincinnati by his brother, Calvin W. Thomas, and placed beside those of his parents, in Spring Grove Cemetery. Frederick \V. Thomas is the author of two volumes of verse: The Beechen Tree, a Tale in Rhyme, published in 1844 by Harper & Brothers, and The Emigrant, or Reflections While Descending the Ohio, first published in Cincirmati in 1833, by Alexander Flash, and re-issued in that city by Josiah Drake, in 1872. In a critical estimate of Mr. Thomas's work, Rufus W. Griswold, in his volume. The Poets and Poetry of America (Phila., 1855), wrote: "He has a nice discrimination of the peculiarities of character which give light and shade to the sur- face of society, and a hearty relish for that peculiar humor which abounds in that portion of our country which undoubtedly embraces most that is original and striking in manners and unre- strained in conduct. He must rank with the first illustrators of manners in the Valley of the Mississippi." The author's most ambitious poem, "The Emigfrant," contains many vigorous stanzas of realistic description, which are of historical interest as picturing certain general aspects of primitive life in the West- em wilderness. THE EMIGRANT (Extracts) DANIEL BOOXE Here once Boone trod — the hardy Pioneer — The only white man in the wilderness : Oh ! how he loved, alone, to hunt the deer. Alone at eve, his simple meal to dress; No mark upon the tree, nor print, nor track. To lead him forward, or to guide him back: He roved the forest, king by main and might, And looked up to the sky and shaped his course aright. FREDERICK WILLIAM THOMAS That mountain, there, that lifts its bald, high head Above the forest, was, perchance, his throne ; There has he stood and marked the woods outspread, Like a great kingdom, that was all his own ; In hunting-shirt and moccasins arrayed. With bear-skin cap, and pouch, and needful blade, How carelessly he lean'd upon his gun ! That scepter of the wild, that had so often won. THE INDIAN With front erect, up-looking, dignified — Behold high Hecla in eternal snows ! Yet while the raging tempest is defied. Deep in its bosom how the pent flame glows ! And when it bursts forth in its fiery wrath, How melts the ice-hill from its fearful path, As on it rolls, unquench'd, and all untamed! — Thus was it with that Chief when his wild passions flamed. Nature's own statesman — by experience taught. He judged most wisely, and could act as well ; With quickest glance could read another's thought, His own, the while, the keenest could not tell ; Warrior — with skill to lengthen, or combine. Lead on, or back, the desultory line ; Hunter — he passed the trackless forest through, Now on the mountain trod, now launch'd the light canoe. To the Great Spirit, would his spirit bow, With hopes that Nature's impulses impart; Unlike the Christian, who just says his vow With heart enough to say it all by heart. Did we his virtues from his faults discern, 'Twould teach a lesson that we well might learn: An inculcation worthiest of our creed, To tell the simple truth, and do the promised deed. 53 POETS OF OHIO How deeply eloquent was the debate, Beside the council-fire of those red men! With language burning as his sense of hate; With gesture just; with eye of keenest ken; With illustration simple but profound, Drawn from the sky above him, or the ground Beneath his feet; and with unf alt' ring zeal, He spoke from a warm heart and made e'en cold hearts feel. And this is Eloquence. 'Tis the intense. Impassioned fervor of a mind deep fraught With native energy, when soul and sense Burst forth, embodied in the burning thought; When look, emotion, tone, are all combined — When the whole man is eloquent with mind — A power that comes not to the call or quest, But from the gifted soul, and the deep-feeling breast. Poor Logan had it, when he mourned that none Were left to mourn for him : — 'twas his who swayed The Roman Senate by a look or tone; 'Twas the Athenian's, when his foes, dismayed. Shrunk from the earthquake of his trumpet call; 'Twas Chatham's, strong as either, or as all ; 'Twas Henry's holiest, when his spirit woke Our patriot fathers' zeal to burst the British yoke. 'TIS SAID THAT ABSENCE CONQUERS LOVE 'Tis said that absence conquers love ! But, oh ! believe it not ; I've tried, alas ! its power to prove, But thou art not forgot. Lady, though fate has bid us part. Yet still thou art as dear — As fixed in this devoted heart As when I clasp'd thee here. 54 FREDERICK WILLIAM THOMAS I plunge into the busy crowd, And smile to hear thy name ; And yet, as if I thought aloud, They know me still the same; And when the wine-cup passes round, I toast some other Fair ; — But when I ask my heart the sound. Thy name is echoed there. And when some other name I learn. And try to whisper love, Still will my heart to thee return. Like the returning dove. In vain ! I never can forget. And would not be forgot; For I must bear the same regret, Whate'er may be my lot. E'en as the wounded bird will seek Its favorite bower to die. So, Lady! I would hear thee speak, And yield my parting sigh. 'Tis said that absence conquers love ! But, oh ! believe it not ; I've tried, alas ! its power to prove. But thou art not forgot. 55 LEWIS FOULKE THOMAS LEWIS FOULKE THOMAS, son of E. S. Thomas and brother of Frederick W. aud of Martha M. Thomas, was born in Baltimore, Md., about the year 1815. Remov- ing to Cincinnati with his father's family in 1829, he assisted his brother in conducting the Commercial Advertiser and the Evening Post, and later he became a contributor to the Western Monthly and to the Cincinnati Mirror. In 1838 he wrote a drama entitled "Osceola," which was performed in Cincinnati, in Louisville, and in New Orleans. He is the author of two inter- esting books of verse: Inda, and Other Poems C1S42), and Rhymes of the Routes, a small volume issued in Washington, D. C, about the year 1847. Mr. Thomas became an attorne}- at law and practiced his profession in Washingon, D. C, in which city he died, in 1868. LOVE'S ARGUMENT (Extract) O love ! it is the tender rose. That for a little season blows, And withers, fades, and dies ; Then seize it in its budding grace. And in thy bosom give it place, Ere its sweet perfume flies. Love is the bubble that doth swim Upon the wine-cup's flowing brim, A moment sparkHng there; Then haste thee, dear, its sweets to sip. And let them melt upon thy lip, Or they will waste in air. 56 LEWIS FOULKE THOMAS O love! it is the dew-drop bright That steals upon the flower at night, And lingers there till morn ; The flower doth droop, when with the day The sun dissolves the drop away : So love is killed by scorn. 57 CHARLES A. JONES CHARLES A. JONES, son of George W. Jones, was born in Philadelphia, Pa., about the year 1815. In his child- hood he accompanied his parents to Cincinnati, Ohio, where he resided during the greater part of his life. At an early age he was a frequent contributor to several local periodi- cals, including the Cincinnati Mirror, the Cincinnati Message, the Western Literary Journal, the Hesperian, and the Daily Gazette. He studied law, and, having been admitted to the bar in 1840, he entered upon the practice of his profession in the Queen City. He was married, in 1843, to Miss Charlotte Lud- low, daughter of James C. Ludlow, of Cincinnati. Some years later he removed with his wife to New Orleans, where he re- sumed his legal practice; but on account of failing health he returned to Cincinnati in 1851, in which year he died, in Mill- creek Township, Hamilton County, "at the old Ludlow Station*^ of pioneer renown." In a sketch of the poet's life, contributed to Coggeshall's historic volume, W. D. Gallagher says : "Charles A. Jones is to be honored above the generality of Western writers, because he explored extensively, and made himself well acquainted with Western character, and in the West, found the theme of his essay, the incident of his story, and the inspiration of his song. His principal poem is a stirring narrative of the exploits of the bold outlaws, who, in the infancy of the settlement of the West, had their common rendezvous in the celebrated Cave-in-Rock on the Ohio. The subjects of many of his lesser productions are the rivers, the mounds, the Indian heroes, and the pioneers of the Mississippi Valley." 1 "A part of the original Indian fort, 'I