Poets of the South Part 4

"Let the world roll blindly on!

Give me shadow, give me sun, And a perfumed eve as this is: Let me lie Dreamfully, Where the last quick sunbeams s.h.i.+ver Spears of light athwart the river, And a breeze, which seems the sigh Of a fairy floating by, Coyly kisses Tender leaf and feathered gra.s.ses; Yet so soft its breathing pa.s.ses, These tall ferns, just glimmering o'er me, Blending goldenly before me, Hardly quiver!"

The well-known friends.h.i.+p existing between Hayne and his brother poet Timrod was a beautiful one. As schoolboys they had encouraged each other in poetic efforts. As editor of _Russell's Magazine_, Hayne had welcomed and praised Timrod's contributions. For the edition of Timrod's poems published in 1873, Hayne prepared a generous and beautiful memoir, in which he quoted the opinion of some Northern writers who a.s.signed the highest place to his friend among the poets of the South. In the _Legends and Lyrics_ there is a fine poem, _Under the Pine_, commemorative of Timrod's visit to Copse Hill shortly before his death:--

"O Tree! against thy mighty trunk he laid His weary head; thy shade Stole o'er him like the first cool spell of sleep: It brought a peace _so_ deep, The unquiet pa.s.sion died from out his eyes, As lightnings from stilled skies.

"And in that calm he loved to rest, and hear The soft wind-angels, clear And sweet, among the uppermost branches sighing: Voices he heard replying (Or so he dreamed) far up the mystic height, And pinions rustling light."

As ill.u.s.trating his rich fancy and graphic power of diction, a few stanzas are given from _Cloud Pictures_. They are not unworthy of Tennyson in his happiest moments.

"At calm length I lie Fronting the broad blue s.p.a.ces of the sky, Covered with cloud-groups, softly journeying by:

"An hundred shapes, fantastic, beauteous, strange, Are theirs, as o'er yon airy waves they range At the wind's will, from marvelous change to change:

"Castles, with guarded roof, and turret tall, Great sloping archway, and majestic wall, Sapped by the breezes to their noiseless fall!

"PaG.o.das vague! above whose towers outstream Banners that wave with motions of a dream-- Rising or drooping in the noontide gleam;

"Gray lines of Orient pilgrims: a gaunt band On famished camels, o'er the desert sand Plodding towards their prophet's Holy Land;

"Mid-ocean,--and a shoal of whales at play, Lifting their monstrous frontlets to the day, Through rainbow arches of sun-smitten spray;

"Followed by splintered icebergs, vast and lone, Set in swift currents of some arctic zone, Like fragments of a t.i.tan world o'erthrown."

In 1882 a complete edition of Hayne's poems was published by D. Lothrop & Co. Except a few poems written after that date and still uncollected, this edition contains his later productions, in which we discover an increasing seriousness, richness, and depth. The general range of subjects, as in his earlier volumes, is limited to his Southern environment and individual experience. This limitation is the severest charge that can be brought against his poetry, but, at the same time, it is an evidence of his sincerity and truth. He did not aspire, as did some of his great Northern contemporaries, to the office of moralist, philosopher, or reformer. He was content to dwell in the quiet realm of beauty as it appears, to use the words of Margaret J. Preston, in the "aromatic freshness of the woods, the swaying incense of the cathedral- like isles of pines, the sough of dying summer winds, the glint of lonely pools, and the brooding notes of leaf-hidden mocking-birds." But the beauty and pathos of human life were not forgotten; and now and then he touched upon the great spiritual truths on which the splendid heroism of his life was built. For delicacy of feeling and perfection of form, his meditative and religious poems deserve to rank among the best in our language. They contain what is so often lacking in poetry of this cla.s.s, genuine poetic feeling and artistic expression.

The steps of death approached gradually; for, like two other great poets of the South, Timrod and Lanier, he was not physically strong. Though sustained through his declining years by "the ultimate trust"--

"That love and mercy, Father, still are thine,"--

he felt a pathetic desire to linger awhile in the love of his tender, patient, helpful wife:--

"A little while I fain would linger here; Behold! who knows what soul-dividing bars Earth's faithful loves may part in other stars?

Nor can love deem the face of death is fair: A little while I still would linger here."

Paul Hamilton Hayne pa.s.sed away July 6, 1886. As already brought out in the course of this sketch, he was not only a gifted singer, but also a n.o.ble man. His extraordinary poetic gifts have not yet been fully recognized. Less gifted singers have been placed above him. No biography has been written to record with fond minuteness the story of his admirable life and achievement. His writings in prose, and a few of his choicest lyrics, still remain unpublished. Let us hope that this reproach to Southern letters may soon be removed, and that this laureate of the South may yet come to the full inheritance of fame to which the children of genius are inalienably ent.i.tled.

CHAPTER IV

HENRY TIMROD

In some respects there is a striking similarity in the lives of the three Southern poets, Hayne, Timrod, and Lanier. They were alike victims of misfortune, and in their greatest tribulations they exhibited the same heroic patience and fort.i.tude.

"They knew alike what suffering starts From fettering need and ceaseless pain; But still with brave and cheerful hearts, Whose message hope and joy imparts, They sang their deathless strain."

The fate of Timrod was the saddest of them all. Gifted with uncommon genius, he never saw its full fruitage; and over and over again, when some precious hope seemed about to be realized, it was cruelly dashed to the ground. There is, perhaps, no sadder story in the annals of literature.

Henry Timrod was born in Charleston, South Carolina, December 28, 1829.

He was older than his friend Hayne by twenty-three days. The law of heredity seems to find exemplification in his genius. The Timrods, a family of German descent, were long identified with the history of South Carolina. The poet's grandfather belonged to the German Fusiliers of Charleston, a volunteer company organized in 1775, after the battle of Lexington, for the defense of the American colonies. In the Seminole War, the poet's father, Captain William Henry Timrod, commanded the German Fusiliers in Florida. He was a gifted man, whose talents attracted an admiring circle of friends. "By the simple mastery of genius," says Hayne, "he gained no trifling influence among the highest intellectual and social circles of a city noted at that period for aristocratic exclusiveness."

[Ill.u.s.tration: HENRY TIMROD.]

Timrod's father was not only an eloquent talker, but also a poet. A strong intellect was a.s.sociated with delicate feelings. He had the gift of musical utterance; and the following verses from his poem, _To Time --the Old Traveler_, were p.r.o.nounced by Was.h.i.+ngton Irving equal to any lyric written by Tom Moore:--

"They slander thee, Old Traveler, Who say that thy delight Is to scatter ruin far and wide, In thy wantonness of might: For not a leaf that falleth Before thy restless wings, But in thy flight, thou changest it To a thousand brighter things.

"'Tis true thy progress layeth Full many a loved one low, And for the brave and beautiful Thou hast caused our tears to flow; But always near the couch of death Nor thou, nor we can stay; And the breath of thy departing wings Dries all our tears away!"

On his mother's side the poet was scarcely less fortunate in his parentage. She was as beautiful in form and face as in character. From her more than from his father the poet derived his love of Nature. She delighted in flowers and trees and stars; she caught the glintings of the suns.h.i.+ne through the leaves; she felt a thrill of joy at the music of singing birds and of murmuring waters. With admirable maternal tenderness she taught her children to discern and appreciate the lovely sights and sounds of nature.

Timrod received his early education in a Charleston school, where he sat next to Hayne. He was an ambitious boy, insatiable in his desire for knowledge; at the same time, he was fond of outdoor sports, and enjoyed the respect and confidence of his companions. His poetic activity dates from this period. "I well remember," says Hayne, "the exultation with which he showed me one morning his earliest consecutive attempt at verse- making. Our down-East schoolmaster, however, could boast of no turn for sentiment, and having remarked us hobn.o.bbing, meanly a.s.saulted us in the rear, effectually quenching for the time all aesthetic enthusiasm."

When sixteen or seventeen years of age he entered the University of Georgia. He was cramped for lack of means; sickness interfered with his studies, and at length he was forced to leave the university without his degree. But his interrupted course was not in vain. His fondness for literature led him, not only to an intelligent study of Virgil, Horace, and Catullus, but also to an unusual acquaintance with the leading poets of England. His pen was not inactive, and some of his college verse, published over a fict.i.tious signature in a Charleston paper, attracted local attention.

After leaving college Timrod returned to Charleston, and entered upon the study of law in the office of the Hon. J. L. Petigru. But the law was not adapted to his tastes and talents, and, like Hayne, he early abandoned it to devote himself to literature. He was timid and retiring in disposition. "His walk was quick and nervous," says Dr. J. d.i.c.kson Bruns, "with an energy in it that betokened decision of character, but ill sustained by the stammering speech; for in society he was the shyest and most undemonstrative of men. To a single friend whom he trusted, he would pour out his inmost heart; but let two or three be gathered together, above all, introduce a stranger, and he instantly became a quiet, un.o.btrusive listener, though never a moody or uncongenial one."

He aspired to a college professors.h.i.+p, for which he made diligent preparation in the cla.s.sics; but in spite of his native abilities and excellent attainments, he never secured this object of his ambition.

Leaving Charleston, he became a tutor in private families; but on holiday occasions he was accustomed to return to the city, where he was cordially welcomed by his friends. Among these was William Gilmore Simms, a sort of Maecenas to aspiring genius, who gathered about him the younger literary men of his acquaintance. At the little dinners he was accustomed to give, no one manifested a keener enjoyment than Timrod, when, in the words of Hayne:--

"Around the social board The impetuous flood tide poured Of curbless mirth, and keen sparkling jest Vanished like wine-foam on its golden crest."

During all these years of toil and waiting the poetic muse was not idle.

Under the pseudonym "Aglaus," the name of a minor pastoral poet of Greece, he became a frequent and favorite contributor to the _Southern Literary Messenger_ of Richmond, Virginia. Later he became one of the princ.i.p.al contributors, both in prose and poetry, to _Russell's Magazine_ in Charleston. It was in these periodicals that the foundation of his fame was laid.

Timrod's first volume of poetry, made up of pieces taken chiefly from these magazines, appeared in 1860, from the press of Ticknor & Fields, Boston. It was Hayne's judgment that "a better first volume of the kind has seldom appeared anywhere." It contains most of the pieces found in subsequent editions of his works. Here and there, both North and South, a discerning critic recognized in the poet "a lively, delicate fancy, and a graceful beauty of expression." But, upon the whole, the book attracted little attention--a fact that came to the poet as a deep disappointment.

In the words of Dr. Bruns, who was familiar with the circ.u.mstances of the poet, "success was to him a bitter need, for not his _living_ merely, but his _life_ was staked upon it."

When this volume appeared, Timrod was more than a poetic tyro. Apart from native inspiration, in which he was surpa.s.sed by few of his contemporaries, he had reflected profoundly on his art, and nursed his genius on the masterpieces of English song. In addition to Shakespeare he had carefully pondered Milton, Wordsworth, and Tennyson. From Wordsworth especially he learned to appreciate the poetry of common things, and to discern the mystic presence of that spirit,--

"Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean, and the living air, And the blue sky, and in the mind of man."

Timrod, like Poe, formulated a theory of poetry which it is interesting to study, as it throws light on his own work. It reveals to us the ideal at which he aimed. In a famous essay Poe made beauty the sole realm and end of poetry. To Timrod belongs the credit of setting forth a larger and juster conception of the poetic art. To beauty he adds _power_ and _truth_ as legitimate sources of poetry. "I think," he says, "when we recall the many and varied sources of poetry, we must, perforce, confess that it is wholly impossible to reduce them all to the simple element of beauty. Two other elements, at least, must be added, and these are power, when it is developed in some n.o.ble shape, and truth, whether abstract or not, when it affects the common heart of mankind."

Timrod regarded a poem as a work of art. He justly held that a poem should have "one purpose, and that the materials of which it is composed should be so selected and arranged as to help enforce it." He distinguished between the moment of inspiration, "when the great thought strikes for the first time along the brain and flushes the cheek with the sudden revelation of beauty or grandeur, and the hour of patient, elaborate execution." Accordingly he quoted with approval the lines of Matthew Arnold:--

"We cannot kindle when we will The fire that in the heart resides; The spirit bloweth and is still; In mystery our soul abides; But tasks in hours of insight willed, May be through hours of gloom fulfilled."

Timrod's poetry is characterized by clearness, simplicity, and force. He was not a mystic; his thoughts and emotions are not obscured in voluble melody. To him poetry is more than rhythmic harmony. Beneath his delicate imagery and rhythmical sweetness are poured treasures of thought and truth. In diction he belongs to the school of Wordsworth; his language is not strained or farfetched, but such as is natural to cultured men in a state of emotion. "Poetry," he says in an early volume of _Russell's Magazine_, "does not deal in abstractions. However abstract be his thought, the poet is compelled, by his pa.s.sion-fused imagination, to give it life, form, or color. Hence the necessity of employing the _sensuous or concrete_ words of the language, and hence the exclusion of long words, which in English are nearly all purely and austerely _abstract_, from the poetic vocabulary."

He defends the use of the sonnet, in which, like Hayne, he excelled. He admits that the sonnet is artificial in structure; but, as already pointed out, he distinguishes the moment of inspiration, from the subsequent labor of composition. In the act of writing, the poet pa.s.ses into the artist. And "the very restriction so much complained of in the sonnet," he says, "the artist knows to be an advantage. It forces him to condensation." His sonnets are characterized by a rare lucidity of thought and expression.

The princ.i.p.al piece in Timrod's first volume, to which we now return, and the longest poem he ever wrote, is ent.i.tled _A Vision of Poesy_. In the experience of the imaginative hero, who seems an idealized portrait of the poet himself, we find an almost unequaled presentation of the nature and uses of poetry. The spirit of Poesy, "the angel of the earth,"

thus explains her lofty mission:--