William Morris. Morris was born in London in 1834, and educated at Oxford. His first publication (1853) was "The Defence of Guenevere, and other Poems." In 1867 appeared his "Life and Death of Jason," and in 1868-1871, at intervals, "The Earthly Paradise," in four parts. In his skill as a poetical narrator Morris has been compared by Swinburne to Chaucer. His long poems, if deficient in elements of popularity, because of their remoteness from modern themes, show remarkable ease and fluency of versification, with beauty of narrative diction. MARCH. Slayer of the winter, art thou here again? Yea, welcome March! and though I die ere June, Ah, what begetteth all this storm of bliss Stretch forth your open hands, and while ye live, Celia Thaxter. AMERICAN. Mrs. Thaxter, daughter of Mr. Laighton, once proprietor of Appledore, Isles of Shoals, was born in Portsmouth, N. H., in 1835. She passed the early part of her life, and much of the later, at Appledore, one of a rocky group of small islands about ten miles from the mainland. She has been no idle observer of the moods and colors of the ocean, the habits of the sea-birds, and all the poetical aspects of the rugged scenes amidst which she was bred. The fidelity of her marine descriptions is remarkable. She has published (1868) an excellent account, historical and descriptive, of the Isles. Her poems are vivid with touches that show the intimacy of her study of external nature. SONG. We sail toward evening's lonely star, The soft breeze freshens; leaps the spray To kiss our cheeks with sudden cheer. Upon the dark edge of the bay Light-houses kindle far and near, And through the warm deeps of the sky Steal faint star-clusters, while we rest In deep refreshment, thou and I, Wave-cradled thus, and wind-caressed. How like a dream are earth and heaven, Thou dearest! We are at life's best, THE SAND-PIPER. Across the narrow beach we flit, The scattered drift-wood, bleached and dry. The wild waves reach their hands for it, The wild wind raves, the tide ruus high, As up and down the beach we flitOne little sand-piper and I. Above our heads the sullen clouds Scud black and swift across the sky; Like silent ghosts, in misty shrouds Stand out the white light-houses nigh. Almost as far as eye can reach, I see the close-reefed vessels fly, As fast we flit along the beachOne little sand-piper and I. I watch him as he skims along, Uttering his sweet and mournful cry; He starts not at my fitful song, Or flash of fluttering drapery: He has no thought of any wrong, He scans me with a fearless eye; Staunch friends are we, well-tried and strong, This little sand-piper and I. Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night, When the loosed storm breaks furiously? My drift-wood fire will burn so bright! To what warm shelter canst thou fly? I do not fear for thee, though wroth The tempest rushes through the sky; For are we not God's children both, Thou little sand-piper and I? Forever let thy tender mist Lie like dissolving amethyst Deep in the distant dales, and shed Yet wilt thou wander,-call the thrush, Harriet Prescott Spofford. AMERICAN. Harriet Elizabeth Prescott, born in Calais, Me., in 1835, was married in 1865 to Richard S. Spofford, Esq., a lawyer, of Newburyport, Mass. She early gave promise of literary ability in a series of remarkable prose tales: "Sir Roland's Ghost" (1860); "The Amber Gods, and other Stories;" "Azarian;" "New England Legends;" "A Thief in the Night," etc. She has been a liberal contributor to the magazines, and there have been several published collections of her prose writings. There is a fine enthusiasm for all that is lovely in nature, flashing out in many of her poems. A FOUR-O'CLOCK. Ah, happy day, refuse to go! Ah, happy day, refuse to go! Ah, happy day, refuse to go! Hang in the heavens forever so! Ellen Louise Moulton. AMERICAN. Mrs. Moulton, whose maiden name was Chandler, was born in 1835 at Pomfret, Coun., and educated at Mrs. Willard's famed seminary. She began writing for the magazines at an early age, and when eighteen published a volumé entitled "This, That, and the Other," of which ten thousand copies were sold. She contributed largely to the principal American magazines, and was a correspondent of the New York Tribune. She married Mr. Moulton, a well-known newspaper publisher of Boston. A volume of her poems was published in London, and one in Boston (1878). ALONE BY THE BAY. He is gone, O my heart, he is gone; And the waves run purple and green, And the sunshine glints and glows, And freshly across the Bay The breath of the morning blows. I liked it better last night, When the dark shut down on the main, And the phantom fleet lay still, And I heard the waves complain. For the sadness that dwells in my heart, IN TIME TO COME. The time will come full soon, I shall be gone, You will grow weary then for the dead days, Theodore Tilton. AMERICAN. Tilton was born in 1835 in the city of New York. He received a good education, and became early in life connected with the Independent, a widely circulated weekly paper. The connection lasted fifteen years. In 1871 he started a new weekly, The Golden Age, which did not meet the success it deserved. He is the author of "The Sexton's Tale, and other Poems," and has shown much versatility as a spirited writer both of prose and verse. SIR MARMADUKE'S MUSINGS. I won a noble fame; But, with a sudden frown, The people snatched my crown, And in the mire trod down My lofty name. I bore a bounteous purse, I gained what men call friends; But now their love is hate, And I have learned too late How mated minds unmate, And friendship ends. I clasped a woman's breast, I am now all bereft, As when some tower doth fall, With battlements and wall, And gate and bridge and all,And nothing left. But I account it worth All pangs of fair hopes crossed All loves and honors lost To gain the heavens at cost Of losing earth. So, lest I be inclined To render ill for illHenceforth in me instill, O God! a sweet good will To all mankind. John James Piatt. AMERICAN. Piatt, born in Milton, Ind., March 1st, 1835, was edn. cated at Kenyon College. He wrote verses for the Louisville Journal, also for the Atlantic Monthly, before he was twenty-five. In conjunction with Mr. W. D. How ells, he published, in 1860, "Poems of Two Friends;" in 1864, "Nests, and other Poems," part of which were by his wife, Mrs. Sarah M. B. Piatt. In 1869 he published "Western Windows, and other Poems," dedicated to George D. Prentice; and in 1871, "Landmarks, and other Poems." His style is well individualized, and formed on no particular model. Mrs. Piatt has written several admirable little poems, generally conveying some pitby moral. THE FIRST TRYST. She pulls a rose from her rose-tree, He plucks from his heart a poem, A flower-sweet messenger,Far over years, far over dreams, Flutters its soul to her. These are the world-old lovers, Clasped in one twilight's gleam; Yet he is but a dream to her, And she a poet's dream. THE MORNING STREET. FROM "WESTERN WINDOWS." Alone I walk the morning street, Letting the noisy Babel lie Breathless and dumb against the sky; Where are the restless throngs that pour While the noon shines?-the hurrying crowd Those footsteps in their dreaming maze Those hearts,-far in the Past they beat, A city of the world's gray prime, Ay, soon the glowing morning flood The busy place, in dust and heat, Shall rush with wheels and swarm with feet; THE GIFT OF EMPTY HANDS. They were two princes doomed to death, "Leave us our life, and we will bring. Fair gifts unto our lord, the king." They went together. In the dew A charméd bird before them flew. Through sun and thorn one followed it; Upon the other's arm it lit. A rose, whose faintest blush was worth Weird jewels, such as fairies wear, When moons go out, to light their hair, One tried to touch on ghostly ground; Gems of quick fire the other found. One with the dragon fought to gain Backward to the imperial gate One took his fortune, one his fate: At bird, and rose, and gem, and fruit, "Your brother's hands, wherein you see Frances Laughton Mace. AMERICAN. Miss Laughton, who by marriage (1855) became Mrs. Mace, was born in the village of Orono, near Bangor, Me., Jan. 15th, 1836, where her father commenced practice as a physician, but soon removed to Bangor. She has written for Harper's Magazine, the Atlantic Monthly, and other well-known periodicals. Her little poem of “ Only Waiting" was written when she was eighteen, and first published in the Waterville (Me.) Mail of Sept. 7th, 1854. It was introduced by the Rev. James Martineau, of England, into his collection of "Hymns," and he took pains to have the fact of its authorship thoroughly investigated. The poem had passed into several collections, British and American, as anonymous. |