But we loved with a love that was more than love — With a love that the wingèd seraphs of heaven And this was the reason that, long ago, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Yes! that was the reason (as all men know, That the wind came out of the cloud by night, But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of many far wiser than we And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side In her tomb by the sounding sea. 1 This has been thought by some to refer to the angels that took Poe's wife, Virginia, from him. ALBERT PIKE 241 ALBERT PIKE [ALBERT PIKE was born in Boston, Massachusetts, December 29, 1809, and died in Washington, D.C., April 2, 1891. He owes his place in this volume to the fact that, after studying at Harvard and teaching school in his native state, he finally settled for many years in the Southwest. He reached Fort Smith, Arkansas, at the end of 1832, after months of exploration in the far West, much of his travelling having been done on foot. He taught school in one or two towns, and then, removing to Little Rock, he became an editor and later a lawyer, achieving considerable local reputation. He was more widely known as a poet, especially after his remarkable "Hymns to the Gods" were published in Blackwood's Magazine in 1839.1 He had previously contributed to New England magazines and had issued a volume of "Prose Sketches and Poems" at Boston in 1834. Although plainly influenced by Coleridge and Keats and Shelley, his poetical work was of such quality that it is regrettable that he did not write more, and strange that what he did write is not better known. He was, however, more of a man of action, perhaps, for in both the Mexican and the Civil wars he played a conspicuous part. In the former he commanded a cavalry company and performed other services: in the latter he was Confederate commissioner to the Indian tribes and also a brigadier general in command of Indians. Between the two wars he practised law in New Orleans (1853-1857) and then returned to Arkansas. Immediately after the Civil War he practised law and edited a newspaper in Memphis, Tennessee, but in 1868 he removed to Washington, D.C., where he devoted himself both to his profession and to free-masonry. He published many books of a masonic character and attained a supreme position in the order. His literary works were in his later years printed privately in three editions ("Nuga," 1854, and collections in 1873 and 1881.) This fact partly accounts for his comparative failure to attract attention as a poet save by single poems such as the song "Dixie," in which he showed how completely he had espoused the cause of his adopted section. A statue has been erected to him in Washington.2] 1 The "Hymns" were eight in number, and filled pages 819-830; they were accompanied by a letter from Pike and a complimentary note signed “C. N.” — the editor, "Christopher North," i.e. John Wilson. In "Nuga" the number of the "Hymns" is twelve. The eight original "Hymns" are given by Griswold in his "Poets and Poetry of America," where, in an interesting sketch of Pike, we are informed that he composed his tributes to the gods of Greece when he was a young teacher in Massachusetts. 2 Courteous permission to quote from his father's works has been given by Yvon Pike, Esq., of Washington, D.C. R TO APOLLO [FROM “NUGÆ," 1854.1 THE EXTRACT IS FROM “HYMNS TO The Gods,” No. VI, "To APOLLO," AND CONSTITUTES THE SECOND STANZA OF THE POEM, WHICH IS DATED, 1829.] Most exquisite poet! Thou, whose great heart's swell Pours itself out on mountain, lawn, and dell! Thou who dost touch them with thy golden feet, Of its resounding waters, -on the shore Of pleasant streams, in the dark, jagged rift Of savage mountains, where the black clouds drift Flushed with swift lightning, — on the broad, dark brow Walks up the sky. Oh, thou, whose influence Answer our hymn, and come to us, Most High! DIXIE SOUTHRONS, hear your country call you! To arms! To arms! To arms, in Dixie ! 1 For the opportunity to examine and use this rare, privately printed volume of which only one hundred and sixty copies were issued, the editor is indebted to the courtesy of Mr. Edmund Clarence Stedman, the poet-critic, whose labors in behalf of our national literature cannot easily be overpraised. Halt not till our Federation Secures among earth's Powers its station! If the loved ones weep in sadness, Exultant pride soon banish sorrow, Smiles chase tears away to-morrow. To arms! To arms! To arms, in Dixie ! Hurrah! hurrah! For Dixie's land we take our stand, And live or die for Dixie ! To arms! To arms! And conquer peace for Dixie ! To arms! To arms! And conquer peace for Dixie !1 TO THE MOCKING BIRD THOU glorious mocker of the world! I hear No light from History's starlit page illumes The memory of these nations; they have died: None care for them but thou; and thou mayst sing Over their bones by whom thou once wast deified. 1 The texts of this and the following poem conform with those of Stedman's "American Anthology." For the poem that has interested students of Poe, "The Widowed Heart" (in "Nugæ," "Isadore "), which may have suggested "The Raven" and is dated 1843, see the "American Anthology" or the "Library of American Literature," as well as some remarks in Professor A. G. Newcomer's "The Poe-Chivers Tradition Reëxamined" in The Sewanee Review, January, 1904. |