Columbia (Mnit)erj8(ttp 
 inttieCttpoflftngork 
 
 THE LIBRARIES 
 
 Bequest of 
 
 Frederic Bancroft 
 
 1860-1945 
 
JOSHUA AUGUSTUS SWAN 
 
 3n iWemortam 
 
 JANUARY i8, 1823— OCTOBER 31. 1871 
 
 CAMBRIDGE 
 
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 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Biographical Sketch i 
 
 Commemorative Notices 24 
 
 Selections from Unpublished Poems : 
 
 The Song of the South Wind 31 
 
 The Equinox 34 
 
 Longings 36 
 
 Christmas Festival 38 
 
 At Sea, September, 1868 39 
 
 London 41 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN. 
 
 My dear Children : — 
 
 I give you here a few memorials of a life 
 which ended before any of you could appre- 
 ciate its strength or its sweetness. 
 
 Your father was strong in his love of truth 
 and right, and he was full of that " sweetness 
 and light " which comes from cherishing the 
 high ideals that consecrate the inner life. Ever 
 ready to sympathize with the feelings and 
 wants of others, he habitually preferred their 
 interests to his own, with a forgetfulness of 
 self which is rarely exemplified to such a 
 degree. He had a directness and simplicity 
 of manner which always inspired confidence. 
 This was perhaps an inheritance from his 
 plain, industrious ancestors of the true New 
 England type. 
 
 They were among the first settlers of Me- 
 thuen. His grandfather, Joshua Swan, was 
 born there July 12, 1755. When not yet 
 
2 yOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 twenty years old, he took part in the battle of 
 Bunker Hill. As the troops marched up the 
 sloping hillside, probably not many of them, at 
 that exciting moment, noticed that the turf be- 
 neath their feet was blue with violets. Joshua 
 stooped to pick one, and placed it in his hat, 
 — an incident that suggests the lack of uni- 
 form drill among those raw recruits. Little 
 time was there to note the changed color of 
 the turf when they descended that flowery hill- 
 side ! But the associations of the day were 
 not forgotten by Joshua Swan, who had the 
 poetic instincts which reappeared in his grand- 
 son. He never let the anniversary of that 
 battle pass without wearing a violet in his 
 buttonhole to celebrate the day. 
 
 He served in eight campaigns, and was 
 three years connected with Washington's own 
 army, in various capacities. He was proud of 
 having often shod the General's horse. He 
 narrowly escaped death at the battle of Brandy- 
 wine, and was at West Point at the time of 
 Arnold's treachery. At the close of the war, 
 he entered a claim for a longer term of service 
 than any other man in Essex County. 
 
 He married, in 1787, Deborah Burbank, and 
 had five sons and four daughters. His grand- 
 
yOSHUA A. SWAN 3 
 
 children delighted in hearing him relate his 
 experiences in the war. On August i, 1844, 
 about fifty of his children and grandchildren 
 gathered round him at a party in the woods. 
 His health and faculties were then unimpaired. 
 The next year he died, at nearly the age of 
 ninety, March 25, 1845. 
 
 His oldest son, Joshua, your grandfather, 
 was born January 10, 1788, at Methuen, where 
 he attended school and was apprenticed to a 
 master carpenter. He soon proved himself a 
 very energetic young man, ready with his help 
 where it was needed ; and all his brothers and 
 sisters were at some time assisted by him. In 
 18 1 6 he went to Waltham, and entered the em- 
 ployment of Theodore Lyman, who had just 
 established cotton-mills at that place. At the 
 house where he boarded he met Olive Jones, 
 of Lancaster, who was visiting her sister, and 
 they soon became engaged. 
 
 She must have been a very beautiful woman 
 then, for she was still beautiful in her old age, 
 with a beauty which was not wholly due to her 
 regular features and expressive dark eyes. It 
 was the sweetness and serenity of her dispo- 
 sition, and her self-forgetting thoughtfulness 
 for others, which invested her with a peculiar 
 
4 yOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 charm to the very close of her life, in 1892, in 
 her ninety-eighth year. 
 
 They were married at Lancaster on Thanks- 
 giving day, December 3, 181 7, and went di- 
 rectly to Waltham, where they lived until the 
 removal of the company to Lowell, early in the 
 year 1824. Their first child died in infancy ; 
 Maria was born July 24, 182 1, and Joshua 
 Augustus, January 18, 1823. 
 
 In Lowell, Mr. Swan took contracts for 
 building machinery, and had the direction of a 
 large workshop. After living several years in 
 houses belonging to the company, and after 
 two more children were born (Albert G., May 
 26, 1826, and Sarah J., July 21, 1828), they 
 moved in 1830 into the house which was to be 
 the family homestead for sixty years. Here 
 their youngest child, Charles Walter, was born, 
 February 6, 1838. 
 
 The house, which was of three stories and 
 in the old colonial style, was built by Mr. Hale, 
 the owner of extensive powder-mills on the 
 Concord River. It was situated on high land, 
 with a fine view of the open country. The 
 estate contained nineteen acres of land, and 
 for many years the farm, orchard, and garden 
 were very productive. 
 
yOSHUA A. SWAN 5 
 
 When I first knew the place, in 1850, Hale's 
 Brook ran by between green banks to the 
 beautiful Concord River, which flowed under 
 fine large trees at the base of Fort Hill. A pic- 
 turesque foot-bridge with a stone arch spanned 
 the river; and the winding foot-path along 
 the bank was fringed with the abundant wild- 
 flowers of the region, from the early violet to 
 the late cardinal flower. The low roofs of the 
 powder- works scarcely marred the rural aspect, 
 but they were the entering wedges which led 
 to the total destruction of the woods and the 
 wild beauty of the locality. 
 
 Mr. Swan took a prominent position in the 
 rapidly growing town of Lowell. He was 
 selectman several years, president of the Me- 
 chanics' Association, 1834-35, alderman in 
 1837, representative to the General Court in 
 1839, and county commissioner from 1848 to 
 185 1. His energy, good sense, and perfect 
 integrity were recognized by the community, 
 and he was held in high esteem. He died 
 April 21, 1867. 
 
 His children were educated in the public 
 schools, and the boys were then expected to 
 learn trades. In reference to Joshua, Mr. W. 
 J. Rolfe has recently written : " We were to- 
 
6 yOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 gether at the Lowell High School. He was 
 one of the older boys, yet I remember his per- 
 sonal appearance distinctly, perhaps because I 
 had a great admiration for him. He was one 
 of the boys to whom I looked up with a genu- 
 ine respect. It did not surprise me that he 
 became a clergyman." At the age of sixteen 
 he reluctantly gave up his studies and entered 
 the machine-shop, working full time with the 
 other apprentices. He remained there a year, 
 and his father wished him to continue longer, 
 but too many thoughts and feelings were stir- 
 ring in his head and heart to allow him to 
 be content with any handicraft. His mother 
 watched with anxiety his growing discontent, 
 and used her influence to persuade his father 
 to give him a college education. He never re- 
 gretted the time spent in learning the use of 
 tools, which afforded him in after years many 
 hours of pleasant relaxation. 
 
 Early in 1841, some of his friends proposed 
 to go to a Quaker school kept by Moses Cram 
 at Clinton Grove, in Weare, N. H., and Joshua 
 was allowed to join them and remain a year. 
 It was a happy year of study and of thought 
 amidst genial influences of nature and of 
 friends. And ever after he loved to recall the 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN 7 
 
 kindness of " Moses " (so the teacher was 
 always called), who saw that the boys were 
 in earnest about learning, and allowed them 
 many liberties. They often took their books 
 into the woods to study, or laid them aside for 
 a long stroll. Here his talent for poetry began 
 to develop, and his religious views to take on 
 more definite shape. 
 
 The subjects of the simple verses written at 
 this time show the tendency of his thought 
 and feelings : " Contemplation," " Gethsem- 
 ane," " Ye must be born again." He had been 
 brought up in the Episcopal Church, where at- 
 tendance on two Sunday services was required 
 besides two sessions of the Sunday-school. 
 The good Dr. Edson frequently examined the 
 pupils himself, and Joshua respected the fine 
 character of that venerable man, but soon be- 
 gan to question some of his points of doctrine. 
 Then the works of Theodore Parker fell into 
 his hands, and were read with intense satisfac- 
 tion. They solved many of his doubts, and 
 opened his mind to the free study and love of 
 truth. He ever after looked up to Parker 
 with deep gratitude and reverence as his spir- 
 itual teacher and guide. Yet he did not, like 
 Parker, assume an attitude of antagonism to 
 
8 JOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 other views. His nature was too gentle for 
 sarcasm, too forbearing to judge others with 
 severity. 
 
 Preparation for college was made in Lowell 
 under the direction of Mr. Jewett and Dr. 
 Hoppin. He came to Cambridge to continue 
 his studies in January, 1842; On March 6, 
 he was baptized and admitted to the Austin 
 Street Church, and entered college the same 
 year. 
 
 Mr. F. P. Appleton, his schoolmate and 
 early friend, has recently written : " Well as I 
 knew him, it was only in later years that I saw 
 the uncommon power and width of his brain, 
 and that he could do anything he chose to do, 
 — in poetry, in science, or in practical work. 
 But there was always the modest, quiet, gen- 
 tle manner, the same kind, low voice, the same 
 friend, and the same friendship." And Mrs. 
 Appleton adds : " We often recall those old 
 times, almost seeing again his bright smile, 
 and hearing his ready repartee." 
 
 While in college he had little ambition for 
 rank in the prescribed studies. The elective 
 system was not then established, and not much 
 prominence was given to his favorite studies, 
 history and literature. He joined with his 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN 9 
 
 friend John Austin Stevens in pursuing them. 
 They had large note-books ruled for historical 
 tables, and they made copious extracts from 
 their favorite authors, — Carlyle, Goethe, Aris- 
 totle, Richter, Schiller, Lessing, Addison, Scott, 
 Bulwer, T. Parker, etc. They made, also, lists 
 of books to be read on the relis:ions of the 
 world, and other subjects, and abstracts of col- 
 lege lectures by Longfellow and Felton. 
 
 On graduation, in 1846, J. A. Swan was the 
 class poet and F. J. Child the orator. Pro- 
 fessor Longfellow's diary has this notice of the 
 occasion: "July 16, Class Day. The oration 
 by Child extremely good. . . . The poem was 
 by Swan, with great skill in versification, and 
 more poetry in it than in any college poem I 
 remember." 
 
 One of his classmates urged him to publish 
 some of his poems, and offered to attend to 
 the business. A small volume appeared, with 
 the title of " Prophecy of the Santon and other 
 Poems." It won approval from Mr. Longfel- 
 low and other critics, but did not attract gen- 
 eral attention. 
 
 The summer of 1846 was memorable to 
 him for a journey through the woods of Maine 
 with J. Austin Stevens. Taking a guide and 
 
lO JOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 canoes, they penetrated the wilderness from 
 the Penobscot to Quebec. Their adventures, 
 entered into with the enthusiasm of youth, 
 never lost their charm when recalled in after 
 years. 
 
 In the autumn he entered the Divinity 
 School, and deeply enjoyed his three years of 
 study in the companionship of dear friends, 
 of whom Samuel Longfellow was one, and 
 another, F. P. Appleton, who long after thus 
 refers to this period : " As I walk up Divinity 
 Hall Avenue now, I ask myself, Where has the 
 glamour gone ? Was this cold, commonplace 
 scene Eden once? And is it so now to any 
 living soul } Perhaps, if such friendships as I 
 once knew still survive." 
 
 But your father's most intimate friend at this 
 time and ever after was Richard Manning 
 Hodges, Jr. He frequently went to see him 
 in their college days at his little study in the 
 wing of his father's house on Waterhouse 
 Street, but without meeting others of the fam- 
 ily. He had acquired a habit of avoiding 
 society, and was usually regarded as some- 
 what of a hermit. He had resolved, however, 
 to seek the acquaintance of Richard's sister, 
 when by accident they met at a lecture, and, at 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN II 
 
 the close of it, shook hands without introduc- 
 tion, walked home together, and soon became 
 friends. This was in September, 1849. He 
 then had rooms in the old house of Royal 
 Morse, situated where Austin Hall Law 
 School building now stands. 
 
 He had begun to preach, and was absorbed 
 in reading and sermon writing. The works of 
 Coleridge and Newman are mentioned in his 
 diary. In the evenings, he frequently visited 
 his friends on the opposite side of the com- 
 mon. Needing a bookcase, he went to Low- 
 ell, and, with his brother Albert's help, built 
 one in two days in the old workshop over the 
 shed, which, with its three picturesque arches, 
 then connected the house and barn. The shed 
 and barn were burnt by lightning September 
 I, 1873. The old home was a haven to which 
 he frequently returned all through his life, and 
 always found welcome and refreshment. The 
 elms, which have long overtopped the roof, 
 were saplings brought and planted by his 
 hands. 
 
 After preaching several times in North An- 
 dover, he was invited to Kennebunk, Me., and 
 accepted a call to remain there. The cor- 
 respondence then began which led to our 
 
12 JOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 engagement after his return to Cambridge, 
 on January i, 1850. 
 
 With my father and several friends I went 
 to his ordination on February 6, 1850. In his 
 diary he writes : " February 7. Yesterday my 
 commencement was beautiful. No one could 
 have fairer prospects. Let me then go to my 
 work strongly and trustfully. Though some- 
 what lonely, I feel very cheerful, and begin 
 already to feel that Kennebunk is my home. 
 May I be useful here ! " 
 
 " February 19. Love my place here better 
 and better. There is a cordial kindness among 
 the people that wins me entirely, and makes me 
 resolved to do all in my power to help them." 
 
 " February 24. Preaching has seemed to- 
 day like real earnest, and therefore pleasant 
 work. I felt after the service as if I were 
 really a worker in Christ's vineyard, and had 
 the means of doing some good in the world." 
 
 Two sermons a week had to be written, and 
 an address prepared for a weekly evening meet- 
 ing. 
 
 But preaching is only one of the various 
 duties of a country minister. He visited the 
 schools constantly, and made a continual round 
 of calls upon the people, taking a deep inter- 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN 1 3 
 
 est in the pursuits and the experiences of all. 
 For recreation he pursued the study of natural 
 history. He calls Lyell's works " a grand 
 preface to a grand study, — Nature's Auto- 
 biography." 
 
 One Sunday in each month he exchanged 
 pulpits with Rev. J. T. G. Nichols, of Saco, 
 and the previous week was usually passed at 
 my father's house in Cambridge. 
 
 My family became much attached to him, 
 and their love for him made the parting with 
 their daughter less hard to bear. Our mar- 
 riage took place April i6, 1851, the day of that 
 fearful storm which swept away the lighthouse 
 on Minot's Ledge, an open structure of iron 
 which had only lasted as long as our engage- 
 ment, having been completed January i, 1850. 
 The wildness of the storm prevented many 
 guests from attending the wedding. The 
 bridges were flooded, but one became passable 
 in time for us to reach our train. The state 
 of the weather made little difference to us, but 
 it must have made the day a sad one to my 
 family. They were never reconciled to our 
 living so far from them, and offered us many 
 inducements to live in Cambridge. In 1852, 
 my aunt, Miss Donnison, built the house on 
 
14 JOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 Berkeley Street expressly for us. It was leased 
 on condition that it should be given up when- 
 ever we desired it. Owing in part to her per- 
 suasions, and partly from some feeling of dis- 
 couragement, Mr. Swan offered his resignation 
 in 1853, but so urgent were the entreaties of 
 his parishioners that he consented to remain. 
 
 I approved of his decision, for I knew that 
 his heart was in his work. My family were 
 much disappointed, especially my aunt Cather- 
 ine. But she thought more of our happiness 
 than of her own, and when a good house was 
 for sale in Kennebunk she bought and re- 
 paired it for us. We moved into it in the fall 
 of 1858. Our first house was in a lonely situ- 
 ation, but the years passed there were happy 
 ones. Elizabeth Quincy was born September 
 27, 1853. A little girl came in 1857, to breathe 
 and moan a few hours and then pass away. In 
 his diary my husband says, " I call her Edith." 
 William Donnison was born January i, 1859, 
 Margaret Manning, July 19, 1862, and Olive 
 Maria, April 15, 1864. 
 
 The minister's salary was $800 at first, af- 
 terwards raised to $i,ojo. But when the war 
 came in 1861, reducing the incomes of many, 
 he insisted on having his salary reduced. He 
 
yOSHUA A. SWAN 1 5 
 
 thought little about what he received ; he gave 
 himself. The kindness of my father and of my 
 aunt (my " fairy godmother," as I often called 
 her) were continually felt in our home, and 
 their own house was open to us at all times, 
 and so, too, was the dear old home in Lowell. 
 
 When your father was weary with overmuch 
 writing and preaching and consoling, nature 
 always refreshed him, and whole days were 
 often passed at the seashore or on the banks 
 of the Mousam River. Sometimes he took 
 longer journeys. The first summer of our 
 marriage, my father took us to the White 
 Mountains, and he often invited my husband 
 to travel with him. After the war was over, 
 they visited Washington, and went to Antie- 
 tam and other battle-grounds. In 1866, we 
 went with a party of friends to Niagara and 
 Montreal, a journey full of interest to us both. 
 
 In winter, books were our great resource, 
 and the evenings never seemed long while 
 your father read aloud. Many volumes of 
 Ruskin, Motley, Carlyle, Froude, and others 
 are associated with those happy times. For, 
 though often weary and at times discouraged, 
 he was always happy in his devotion to his 
 family and his people and his work, until his 
 
1 6 JOSHUA A. SIVA A' 
 
 health, which had been so uniform that he never 
 had missed a service of any kind, began to fail 
 in 1867. He then suffered from what seemed 
 to be dyspepsia, but persisted in his usual rou- 
 tine of work until extreme weakness forced 
 him to give it up. 
 
 On the 28th of May, 1868, the parish voted 
 to give him six months' leave of absence. We 
 went to Lowell and to Cambridge, and con- 
 sulted Dr. Wyman and Dr. Hodges. Part of 
 the summer was spent at the seashore in Bev- 
 erly, where he formed a friendship with Pro- 
 fessor Spencer F. Baird, with whom he then, 
 and also at a later period, enjoyed some scien- 
 tific explorations. He was always cheerful and 
 uncomplaining, but he did not gain in health. 
 
 On August 20, he went to my brother's, 
 where he received every possible attention, but 
 became more and more feeble and almost help- 
 less. A voyage to Europe had been long 
 talked of, but it seemed a doubtful expedient. 
 Now it was the only one left to try, and he 
 himself became anxious to go. His brother 
 Charles, just entering on the practice of medi- . 
 cine, and just engaged to be married, con- 
 sented to leave all and go with him. My 
 father and my aunt offered to pay their ex- 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN 17 
 
 penses. I was to remain at my father's with 
 our three little girls, and William was sent to 
 Mr. Mack's school at Belmont. 
 
 Three days before the appointed day of sail- 
 ing (September 3), your father's condition be- 
 came so alarming that I entreated to be allowed 
 to go with him. My dear parents consented 
 to take charge of our children, and my aunt 
 assumed the added expense. 
 
 On the way to New York, your father be- 
 came totally blind, and could not stand alone. 
 On reaching the steamer Aleppo, he was car- 
 ried to the state-room, which was on deck, and 
 lay there three days as helpless as an infant 
 Then he roused and asked to be taken to the 
 open deck, and went, supported by Charles and 
 the steward. After that he went out every 
 day, gaining rapidly in strength. During this 
 period of prostration he composed the verses 
 called " At Sea," which are appended to this 
 memorial. He also dictated his diary to 
 Charles, and at a later period copied it out. 
 When we entered the British Channel, he could 
 walk and see, and went to a concert in Liver- 
 pool the day we landed, September 17. After 
 a few days of rest at Chester, we went to lodg- 
 ings in Leamington, and made excursions to 
 
1 8 JOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 Warwick, Kenilworth, and Stratford-on-Avon. 
 In London he was able to walk about with 
 Charles, and in Paris he improved still more. 
 Here we consulted Dr. Brown-Sequard, who 
 gave much encouragement in regard to his re- 
 covery. After spending a few days in Geneva, 
 we went by rail to Nice, drove in a carriage 
 over the Cornice Road to Genoa, thence by 
 steamer to Leghorn, to visit Pisa, and contin- 
 ued by sea to Naples, where we spent a month 
 in sunny rooms on the Chiaia, opposite the 
 park which was then called the Villa Reale. 
 We tramped through the Pompeiian streets 
 and ascended Mt. Vesuvius. We then went to 
 Rome, where your father was the most ener- 
 getic of the party, walking and driving every 
 day, and keeping his pictorial diary, which I 
 have in eight small volumes. 
 
 On January 22, 1869, he sent to his parish 
 a letter of resignation, which was acted on at 
 the next annual meeting of the society, when 
 " they reluctantly yielded their assent to the 
 dissolution of a union maintained so many 
 years with uninterrupted harmony, with so 
 much benefit to the people." 
 
 We were a month in Rome, and another 
 happy month in Florence, and after a week of 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN 1 9 
 
 delight in Venice, we went by the Brenner 
 Pass to Munich and Dresden and Heidelberg; 
 then to Paris, London, Liverpool, and sailed 
 on April 27 in the China, which bore us 
 swiftly home in eight days, the shortest pas- 
 sage that had ever then been made. 
 
 To return, bringing my husband restored to 
 health, and finding all our dear ones well, was 
 a wonderful termination to that journey, be- 
 gun with such sad forebodings. We could 
 never be grateful enough to those who made 
 it possible, and the recollection of it was always 
 a great source of pleasure to us. 
 
 The summer of 1869 we spent in Kenne- 
 bunk, preparing to leave our house for the new 
 minister, Mr. Vinal, to occupy. In November, 
 we came to live on Berkeley Street, Cambridge. 
 William returned to Belmont for the winter. 
 
 Your father now sought for some literary or 
 scientific appointment, and obtained the posi- 
 tion of secretary of the Boston Natural His- 
 tory Society. He entered upon his new du- 
 ties May II, 1870. The study of botany and 
 entomology had long been his recreation. 
 Now that his pastime had become a matter of 
 business, he took it up with his usual assiduity. 
 There was often a pressure of work which 
 
20 JOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 kept him late at night, and he overtasked his 
 strength. He refused to take a vacation the 
 first summer, and continued at his post during 
 an excessively hot season. The following 
 summer (1871), he went off" on a little trip to 
 the woods of Maine with Mr. John Bartlett, 
 and enjoyed it, but when he attempted to re- 
 sume his work he was quite unfit for it. His 
 old symptoms returned, and medicines did not 
 relieve them. On the 7th of October, 1871, 
 he left his desk in the library of the Natural 
 History Society, never to return to it. As a 
 voyage had restored him before, we hoped it 
 might again, and my father, ever ready with 
 help in time of need, went with us, October 14, 
 to New York, intending to take us to Cuba. 
 But Dr. Hammond, whom we consulted in 
 New York, though giving much encourage- 
 ment of his recovery, advised us to return 
 home, which we did on October 21. His ex- 
 treme weakness made the journey a painful 
 one. He failed rapidly. Our devoted friend, 
 Miss Charlotte E. Hatch, came from Kenne- 
 bunk, to help me nurse him, and his mother 
 and sisters came at his request two days before 
 his death. His brother and mine and Dr. Wy- 
 man attended him. His weakness was such 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN 21 
 
 that he said little ; but whenever he spoke it 
 was cheerfully and with a smile, bidding us 
 not be troubled, for he was perfectly happy. 
 When I said that the children were good, he 
 exclaimed: " Yes, I do think we have a beauti- 
 ful family of children, and if I should not live 
 a week, I should feel that I have had all the 
 blessings and happiness I could ask in this 
 life." Half unconscious, he murmured, " Can 
 I be of any service } " " Remember I am here 
 for them, not for myself," and then he inquired 
 about some invalids at Kennebunk. His last 
 thoughts were with those to whom the best 
 of his life had been given. 
 
 He passed quietly away October 31, 1871. 
 His disease was an organic affection of the 
 stomach. 
 
 The numerous expressions of sympathy and 
 esteem, and the resolutions passed by various 
 societies, proved that the beauty of his char- 
 acter had been appreciated by many. 
 
 You, my dear children, were too young fully 
 to understand your loss, but not to retain a 
 loving remembrance of your father. I trust 
 that this little memorial will keep it fresh for 
 you, and will give to your children some faint 
 image of his rare personality. 
 
2 2 yOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 And yet, in so slight a sketch it is difficult 
 to convey the true impression of his life. 
 Though so retired and unambitious, it was 
 full and rich both in what he received and 
 what he gave. His love of nature and his 
 love of books were resources from which 
 he constantly derived happiness, and no one 
 could appreciate more than he did the joys 
 of home and family love. 
 
 His warm interest in the people of his par- 
 ish made his relations with them very inti- 
 mate. He paid little attention to external ap- 
 pearances, but could perceive beneath them 
 the real personality of each one. Such recog- 
 nition always meets with a response, and forms 
 a bond of mutual sympathy. 
 
 The children were especially dear to him. 
 Some of the little ones, whom he at first took 
 in his arms, grew up and were married by him, 
 and almost seemed to belong to him. 
 
 It cost him great pain to sever all these ties 
 and to give up his chosen work. If his life 
 sometimes seemed monotonous or wanting in 
 intellectual stimulus, he did not despond. The 
 spirit of contentment was one of his most 
 charming characteristics, and it always made 
 an atmosphere of happiness around him. 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN 23 
 
 The keynote of his life was the love of God 
 and trust in His fatherly care. In his sermons 
 he dwells on this theme. His life was inspired 
 by it, and so became an inspiration to others, 
 leaving behind an influence that may still be 
 felt, even if unrecognized. 
 
 May it prove a blessing to his children and 
 
 his children's children ! 
 
 Sarah H. Swan. 
 Cambridge, 1893. 
 
COMMEMORATIVE NOTICES. 
 
 BOSTON SOCIETY OF NATURAL HISTORY. 
 
 On Wednesday, November i, 187 1, the President, 
 after the following remarks, adjourned the meet- 
 ing: — 
 
 " I know not how to utter the deep grief I feel, and 
 which I know is shared by you all, in the death of 
 our dear companion, Rev. J. A. Swan, the secretary 
 of this society. No one, I am sure, who has had the 
 pleasure of personal intercourse with him but will 
 feel that he has lost a near and dear friend. To me, 
 his presence, even, has always seemed a benediction. 
 I do not think I ever was so much impressed by the 
 personal character of any man with whom I have 
 come in contact as with that of Mr. Swan. He 
 seemed always overflowing with love for, and a desire 
 to aid, all about him. What might excite in other 
 men feelings of anger or bitterness moved him only 
 to sorrow, and no one was ever more charitable in 
 his judgments of the acts of others. Truly, we 
 have lost from our circle a man devoid of guile, 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN 25 
 
 upright in conduct, lovable beyond expression, pure 
 in heart, and faithful in every duty." 
 The following resolution was passed : — 
 " Resolved, That in the death of Mr. Swan, the 
 society recognizes the loss of not only a highly effi- 
 cient officer and member, but of an associate greatly 
 respected for his attainments as a scholar, admired 
 for his noble qualities as a gentleman, and loved for 
 his manly virtues as a man and a Christian." 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM RESOLUTIONS PASSED BY THE 
 FIRST CONGREGATIONAL PARISH IN KENNEBUNK, 
 NOVEMBER 1 6, 1 8/ 1. 
 
 ''Resolved, That we, the members of this Parish, 
 sincerely mourn the loss we have sustained in the 
 death of Rev. Joshua A. Swan, the minister over 
 this Parish for so many years, which witnessed in 
 him an ever-expanding love and a deep, unreserved 
 devotion for his people. To him they returned their 
 fullest confidence and most affectionate regard. . . . 
 
 " The benignant character of God manifest in man 
 and in nature was the theme on which he most de- 
 lighted to dwell, with an earnest zeal and solemn 
 eloquence which commanded the attention of his 
 hearers. ... In the discharge of his parochial 
 duties he was unsurpassed. ... To serve and work 
 for others was the dearest object of his life." 
 
26 JOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 FROM THE CHRISTIAN REGISTER. 
 
 Fro7n Editorial Notice. 
 
 "Mr. Swan was one of those rare men who join a 
 certain sweetness of character and life with a most 
 conscientious fidelity, and whose memory is an en- 
 during possession of the church. 
 
 " No pastor was ever more welcome to the homes 
 of his parishioners, or more faithful in the discharge 
 of his duties, or more beloved by his brethen in the 
 ministry who had the good fortune to know him." 
 
 From Notice by Rev. J. T. G. Nichols. 
 
 " He was one of the manliest of men, at the same 
 time one of the most tender and affectionate. 
 
 " He remarked, on leaving Kennebunk for his 
 new home in Cambridge, that one of his greatest 
 regrets was that ' the children whom he met would 
 not know him.' 
 
 " For much of his power in the pulpit he was 
 indebted to his winning manners out of it, and to 
 the much he knew beyond the ordinary range of 
 pulpit topics. . . . But it was his heart qualities 
 that perhaps chiefly distinguished him. He made 
 everybody love him. Two of the Beatitudes had 
 singular application to him, 'Blessed are the pure 
 in heart,' and 'Blessed are the peacemakers.' His 
 loving smile and his kind, wise word in season had 
 wonderful power to disperse cloudy feelings and to 
 allay personal irritations. His was a character and 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN 27 
 
 life on which those of us who best knew him can 
 dwell without a shadow of pain to mar our recollec- 
 tions." 
 
 Front Private Letters. 
 
 " The wonderful sweetness and joyousness of his 
 nature have been a blessed lesson to many." 
 
 " How many pleasant days have I spent with him ! 
 In weariness and weakness I found no more effec- 
 tual rest and refreshment than I got at his house. 
 It did me good merely to come, in contact with his 
 kindly and cheerful spirit. 
 
 " Few pastors have had a deeper place in the 
 hearts of their people than he. With all his warm 
 and strong sympathies he had only to live among 
 people, and freely act out his nature, to be all that 
 could be desired in that relation." 
 
 " I know my whole life is richer and better for 
 having known him." 
 
SELECTIONS 
 
 UNPUBLISHED POEMS. 
 
THE SONG OF THE SOUTH WIND. 
 
 A FOURTH OF JULY ODE, 
 
 I COME forth from the Caribbees, 
 Those islands resting on the seas, 
 
 Where summer reigns undying ; 
 Where the soft malaria breathes its blast, 
 And the hurricane goes shrieking past 
 While the palm-tree bends its lofty mast. 
 
 And the orange groves are sighing. 
 
 My way is over seas afar, 
 Through flowery vales of Florida. 
 
 And across the rice plantation. 
 And mournful, oh, mournful, is the song, 
 Breathing of wretchedness and wrong, 
 I 've learned while journeying along 
 
 This birthday of the nation. 
 
 For, ever as I floated on 
 Beneath the red and burning sun, 
 
 I heard a voice of wailing. 
 It echoed sadly to and fro 
 Along the Gulf of Mexico, 
 Where Mississippi's waters flow, 
 
 Downward to ocean sailing. 
 
32 yOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 And where Potomac's ripples fall 
 In the shadow of the Capitol, 
 
 The ear of mercy paining, 
 Voices of bitterness and woe ; 
 Not loud and wild, but whispered low, 
 Such sounds as to the deep heart go. 
 
 As of a child complaining. 
 
 I saw God's image bought and sold 
 For pieces of the shining gold. 
 
 And like the dumb kine driven. 
 Upon his soul they put a spell 
 That to him it might never tell 
 He was of those whom God loved well. 
 
 And was an heir of heaven. 
 
 I saw a mother in the mart 
 
 Beg for the child, with broken heart, 
 
 That from her breast was taken. 
 And I breathed a sigh above her there ; 
 She gazed towards the sky so fair, 
 And prayed a wild and raving prayer. 
 
 Like a creature God-forsaken. 
 
 Yet still from lake to ocean's shore 
 I hear the booming cannon roar 
 
 In one continuous thunder. 
 And church-bells fling their jangled lay 
 O'er roofs and tree-tops far away, — 
 Not as they call on the Sabbath day 
 
 With the prayerful stillness under. 
 
yOSHUA A. SWAN 33 
 
 Sound ye the clanging bell no more ; 
 Bid hush the cannon's sullen roar ; 
 
 Their din is idly given. 
 And shout no more for liberty ; 
 Ye are not, never can be free 
 Until the curse of slavery 
 
 Forth from the land be driven. 
 
 Send down the flag from every mast, 
 So proudly courting heaven's blast ! 
 
 It should trail sad and lowly ! 
 The stars and stripes in mocking wave : 
 Stars for the free, stripes for the slave ; 
 His benison God never gave 
 
 To a union so unholy. 
 
 Your church-spire points in its mute love 
 Beyond the eternal stars above, 
 
 A guide to wanderers given. 
 But southward steady looks the vane. 
 And bids ye hear the clanking chain, 
 And tells of woe and want and pain 
 
 As that tells ye of heaven. 
 
 Oh, ever as the south wind swells, 
 List to the warning word it tells, 
 
 Nor in the good cause falter. 
 Or a rising storm-cloud ye may see, 
 Whose bolt will shatter Freedom's tree. 
 Whose flood will quench eternally 
 
 The flame on freedom's altar. 
 Cambridge, October j, 1848. 
 
34 yOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 THE EQUINOX. 
 
 All day long the wind and rain 
 Have dashed upon the window pane, 
 And damp mists gather on the glass, 
 Which stop the light that fain would pass. 
 
 There is no blue ; but clouds of lead 
 Drag low and sullen overhead ; 
 A spectre-mist comes from the sea 
 Like a great bird flying heavily ; 
 
 And weaves its web round hill-tops gray, 
 Stalks through the woods, nor bends a spray ; 
 And now it lifts, and now subsides. 
 Like the ebb and flow of ocean tides. 
 
 The wind sighs sadder in the pine. 
 And heavier hangs the dripping vine ; 
 The brooklet in its deep, dark bed 
 Only mirrors a sky of lead. 
 
 The beggar hugs his ragged cloak 
 To shield him from the tempest stroke ; 
 And patient cattle crowd together 
 In the dull and dreary weather. 
 
 Now cleaves the cold mist to the ground 
 And nought is visible around ; 
 
JOSHUA A. SWAN 35 
 
 And nought is heard but rustling leaves, 
 And dull rain dropping from the eaves. 
 
 The storm's dark spirit o'er me broods 
 Like mist above the drooping woods ; 
 And thoughts that quicken 'neath her wing 
 Are of the note herself doth sing. 
 
 So as the vine droops from the wall, 
 As mournfully the raindrops fall, 
 My cheerful thoughts droop in their play, 
 And my better feelings shrink away. 
 
 And in my soul is mirrored nought 
 Of the stormy day, but stormy thought : 
 Of hearts that yearn, fates that deny 
 The praying earth, and leaden sky. 
 
 Kennebunk, October 4, 184^. 
 
LONGINGS. 
 
 We will be strong, whatever fate hang o'er us ; 
 
 In noble purpose and in truth confide, 
 And when heart-joys ebb mournfully before us 
 
 Will wait with patience the returning tide. 
 
 We will be strong ; nor in the night of sorrow 
 Be bowed to earth as hoping no relief. 
 
 There is no night but it shall have a morrow, 
 And joy may penetrate the depths of grief. 
 
 We sigh for truer sympathy ; we weary 
 
 Of formal friends whose hearts beat not with ours ; 
 
 Beneath their look the world seems dull and dreary, 
 Cold are its hills, and leafless are its bowers. 
 
 We would be loved with pure and fond affection, 
 Which knows no shade of change and fears for 
 nought, 
 
 And when alone would have the recollection 
 That kindly ones are with us still in thought ; 
 
 Would have one bosom in whose deep recesses 
 The thoughts we long to speak may garnered be ; 
 
 The holy secrets which the heart confesses 
 There only, where it loves most tenderly. 
 
yOSHUA A. SWAN 37 
 
 The soul should tell its wants, its aspirations, 
 That it may hear some sympathetic tone ; 
 
 We gain redoubled strength by these vibrations 
 Of thoughts which are, and yet are not, our own. 
 
 Bright scenes of beauty, with their mute appealings, 
 Invite us to put on their happy mood. 
 
 But sadly beautiful are such revealings 
 To him who worships them in solitude. 
 
 Perchance it may not be ; the things we cherish 
 Like shadows may appear, then pass away ; 
 
 We will not droop, though all our best hopes perish, 
 But wait the dawning of a better day. 
 
 We will be strong, will calm the heart's emotion 
 With thoughts of high emprise and valorous strife ; 
 
 If what we long for may not be our portion. 
 Our longings still will lead to nobler life. 
 
 Then, soul, be brave ! Thou hast thy work and sta- 
 tion. 
 
 Thou hast thy task to do, thy prize to win. 
 And be thy thought that this sublime creation 
 
 Is more sublime that thou hast lived therein. 
 
CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL. 
 
 FIRST PARISH, KENNEBUNK, 1 865. 
 
 Another year, through changing days, 
 
 Its rapid course has rolled, 
 And now we bring our songs of praise 
 
 For mercies manifold. 
 
 From giant wrong, Thou, God, hast wrought 
 
 Our country's glad release ; 
 Out of confusion, order brought. 
 
 From strife and bloodshed, peace. 
 
 And when our way with fear was dark, 
 
 And harsh seemed duty's call, 
 'Twas strength to know that Thou dost mark 
 
 The sparrows when they fall. 
 
 When oft our hearts felt all their pains 
 
 For those gone on before. 
 We seemed to hear triumphal strains 
 
 Sound from some brighter shore. 
 
 To Thee our grateful songs we raise. 
 Who, through the Christ hast given. 
 
 Amid these toiling, earthly ways. 
 Such gleams of love and heaven. 
 
AT SEA, SEPTEMBER, 1868. 
 
 One solitary ship upon the heaving ocean 
 
 Like some huge sporting monster leaps and rolls, 
 
 Yet bears serenely, 'mid the wild commotion. 
 
 This precious freight, — two hundred living souls. 
 
 Above, I see the sails, with full inflation, 
 
 Wooing the breeze which wafts us on our way ; 
 
 Below, I hear the mighty, strong vibration 
 Of iron pulses beating night and day. 
 
 I see the master, like some necromancer, 
 His sextant-sceptre wield with playful ease, 
 
 And bid the midday sun his questions answer, 
 And tell the curving path along the seas. 
 
 I know that in his solitary quarters, 
 
 Directed by the compass' guiding wand, 
 
 The helmsman keeps his way along the waters. 
 And holds the toiling ship in full command. 
 
 I hear, with rapid, double intonations, 
 
 Announce how quick the hours their measure fill, 
 The bell, which calls the watchers to their station. 
 
 To keep the course, and shun each threatening ill. 
 
40 yOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 What though the clouds send down their wild defi- 
 ance, 
 
 And stir to foaming wrath the waters blue, 
 The iron heart still beats in calm reliance. 
 
 The opposing waves divide, and we pass through. 
 
 Yet not alone to skill of man defending 
 We trust, to iron hearts, nor iron wall. 
 
 For over land and sea one heaven is bending, 
 And God's good providence is keeping all. 
 
 Oh, wondrous thought of providential guiding, 
 Thus, Father, blending with our earthly lot ; 
 
 Though tossed on seas or in strange lands abiding, 
 We cannot go where thy dear love is not. 
 
LONDON.i 
 
 Up to my chamber door 
 
 Is borne the mingled roar 
 Of this great town, — the clattering of many feet, 
 
 The market cries, the knells 
 
 Of hours on deep-mouthed bells. 
 The iron hoofs and wheels upon the stony street. 
 
 And, mingled in with these 
 
 Wild, stormy symphonies, 
 I hear the undertones of household love and care, 
 
 The sounds of home, the wild 
 
 Exuberance of the child. 
 The infant's prattle, and the old man's grateful 
 prayer. 
 
 Sounds Rachel's cry distressed, 
 
 More keen because suppressed ; 
 Ambition's shout, which youthful hearts undaunted 
 raise : 
 
 And from the storied aisles 
 
 Of old cathedral piles 
 The organ's surging notes of penitence and praise. 
 
 1 Written at sea, May 4, i86g. 
 
42 JOSHUA A. SWAN 
 
 And from the crowded lairs 
 In sunless thoroughfares, 
 Where crime and want and sorrow have untiring 
 birth, 
 Ascends the mournful cry 
 Of pain and misery, 
 The gambler's oath, the drunkard's wild, delirious 
 mirth. 
 
 So, O great town, my sense 
 Takes in thy voice immense, 
 
 Which, like the smoky cloud above thee, lifts and 
 floats ; 
 It is a braided band 
 Of many a different strand, 
 
 A mighty diapason of many changing notes. 
 
 With day, in murmurs low, 
 
 Begins that tidal flow 
 Whose crowding waves with resonance the city fill ; 
 
 They swell and rage and beat. 
 
 And drown each lane and street, 
 Then, past the midnight hour, retire, and all is still. 
 

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