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Haverhill (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
sitively that the real object of this poem was a lady of whom Mr. Pickard thus writes in a newspaper communication since the publication of his volume. She died several years ago, the widow of Judge Thomas of Covington, Ky. She was born in Haverhill, and was a distant relative of Whittier's, her maiden name being Mary Emerson Smith. Her grandmother, Mrs. Nehemiah Emerson, was a second cousin of Whittier's father. As a girl she was often at her grandfather Emerson's, and Whittier as a boyt in 1832, but was prevented by a prospect of being elected to Congress from the Essex district. Up to the time of her marriage to Judge Thomas, Whittier's letters to her were frequent, all written in a brotherly tone, and giving the gossip of Haverhill. In one letter, written in 1832, he refers to his just published poem, Moll Pitcher, and says he has in it drawn a portrait of herself. This portrait may be found on pages 26, 27, of the poem, and it is probable that the reason why Moll Pitch
Kennebunk, Me. (Maine, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
istant relative of Whittier's, her maiden name being Mary Emerson Smith. Her grandmother, Mrs. Nehemiah Emerson, was a second cousin of Whittier's father. As a girl she was often at her grandfather Emerson's, and Whittier as a boy lived for a time at the same place, and attended school in that district. He called Mary's grandmother Aunt. Afterward they were fellow students at Haverhill Academy. When Whittier was editing the American Manufacturer, in Boston, she was at a seminary at Kennebunk, Me., and they were in correspondence, which showed a warm attachment on his part. I have seen the originals of these letters. There were several considerations which forbade thought of marriage on the part of either of them. She went to Cincinnati with her uncles, about 1831, and for this reason he planned to go West in 1832, but was prevented by a prospect of being elected to Congress from the Essex district. Up to the time of her marriage to Judge Thomas, Whittier's letters to her were
Derby, Conn. (Connecticut, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
s power Is vainer than my boyhood's dream. Years have passed on, and left their trace, Of graver care and deeper thought; And unto me the calm, cold face Of manhood, and to thee the grace Of woman's pensive beauty brought. More wide, perchance, for blame than praise, The schoolboy's humble name has flown; Thine, in the green and quiet ways Of unobtrusive goodness known. And wider yet in thought and deed Diverge our pathways, one in youth; Thine the Genevan's sternest creed, While answers to my spirit's need The Derby dalesman's simple truth. For thee, the priestly rite and prayer, And holy day, and solemn psalm; For me, the silent reverence where My brethren gather, slow and calm. Yet hath thy spirit left on me An impress Time has worn not out, And something of myself in thee, A shadow from the past, I see, Lingering, even yet, thy way about; Not wholly can the heart unlearn That lesson of its better hours, Nor yet has Time's dull footstep worn To common dust the path of flowers.
Time (Pennsylvania, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
's power Is vainer than my boyhood's dream. Years have passed on, and left their trace, Of graver care and deeper thought; And unto me the calm, cold face Of manhood, and to thee the grace Of woman's pensive beauty brought. More wide, perchance, for blame than praise, The schoolboy's humble name has flown; Thine, in the green and quiet ways Of unobtrusive goodness known. And wider yet in thought and deed Diverge our pathways, one in youth; Thine the Genevan's sternest creed, While answers to my spirit's need The Derby dalesman's simple truth. For thee, the priestly rite and prayer, And holy day, and solemn psalm; For me, the silent reverence where My brethren gather, slow and calm. Yet hath thy spirit left on me An impress Time has worn not out, And something of myself in thee, A shadow from the past, I see, Lingering, even yet, thy way about; Not wholly can the heart unlearn That lesson of its better hours, Nor yet has Time's dull footstep worn To common dust the path of flowers.
New England (United States) (search for this): chapter 12
ing. ‘ I'm sorry that I spelt the word; I hate to go above you: Because,’--the brown eyes lower fell- ‘Because, you see, I love you.’ Still memory to a gray-haired man That sweet child-face is showing. Dear girl! the grasses on her grave Have forty years been growing. Mrs. Fields's Whittier, p. 65. I withhold the closing verse with its moral; a thing always hard for Whittier to forego. The next example of Whittier's range of love poetry is to be found in that exquisite romance of New England life and landscape, known as My Playmate, of which Tennyson said justly to Mrs. Maria S. Porter, It is a perfect poem; in some of his descriptions of scenery and wild flowers, he would rank with Wordsworth. It interprets the associations around him and the dreams of the long past as neither Longfellow, nor Lowell, nor Holmes, could have done it; the very life of life in love-memories in the atmosphere where he was born and dwelt. Many a pilgrim has sought the arbutus at Follymill or li
Kittery (Maine, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
in Mrs. Browning's Sonnets from the Portuguese, can only equal them. Even to Whittier, they came only in a favoured hour; and in the more continuous test of blank verse, he fails, like every modern poet since Keats, save Tennyson, alone. Amy Wentworth is also one of his very best, and has the same delicate precision of sound to the ear and in the use of proper names; the house in Jaffrey Street, with its staircase and its ivy; with Elliot's green bowers and the sweet-brier, blooming on Kittery sidethe very name side being local. This, however, was a wholly fictitious legend, as he himself told me; and still more imaginative was his last ballad, written at the age of sixty-eight, which I quote, in preference to My Playmate, as less known. It has the peculiar interest of having been written in answer to a challenge coming from a young lady who said to him while they were staying together at his favourite Bearcamp River, Mr. Whittier, you never wrote a lovesong. I would like to
Bearcamp River (New Hampshire, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
ivy; with Elliot's green bowers and the sweet-brier, blooming on Kittery sidethe very name side being local. This, however, was a wholly fictitious legend, as he himself told me; and still more imaginative was his last ballad, written at the age of sixty-eight, which I quote, in preference to My Playmate, as less known. It has the peculiar interest of having been written in answer to a challenge coming from a young lady who said to him while they were staying together at his favourite Bearcamp River, Mr. Whittier, you never wrote a lovesong. I would like to have you try to write one for me to sing. The next day he handed her the following, and she was the first person to set it to music &nd sing it. He evidently worked it over afterward, however, for it must have been written at the earliest in the summer of 1876, was offered to the Atlantic Monthly in February, 1877, with some expressions of doubtful confidence; was withdrawn by the author, and was finally published in the Indepe
Amesbury (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
le for an old man to talk much about them. Time was when I had my dreams and fancies — but those days have long since passed -don't thee think I should have made a pretty good husband? Yes, said Mary; but I think if thee had wished to go to Amesbury on a certain train thee would have gone, wife or no wife. Claflin's Reminiscences, p. 68. At which he laughed a merry laugh, vigorously smote his knee, and said, I guess thee is about right, Mary. Yet in reading the memoirs of poets it e heart. Whittier's elder sister, looking back from middle life, could find nothing positive to tell me of any such wanderings in his case, and could only say that there had been vague reports, to which she attached no value, about somebody at Amesbury. The Century Magazine for May, 1902, contained what was called a noteworthy letter by Whittier, edited by Mr. William Lyon Phelps and addressed to Miss Cornelia Russ of Hartford, Conn., on his leaving that city on Dec. 31, 1831. It contains a
Hartford (Connecticut, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
gue reports, to which she attached no value, about somebody at Amesbury. The Century Magazine for May, 1902, contained what was called a noteworthy letter by Whittier, edited by Mr. William Lyon Phelps and addressed to Miss Cornelia Russ of Hartford, Conn., on his leaving that city on Dec. 31, 1831. It contains a proposal of an interview, apparently with a view to marriage. Mr. Pickard, his literary editor, frankly doubts the genuineness of this letter, and partly from its signature, Yours most truly, a loss of the Quaker form which has not other example among his early correspondence; and he also questions the correctness of its dates, because he finds Whittier to have left Hartford permanently several months earlier than the date of the letter. He also disapproves, apparently, the assumption of Mr. Phelps that the object of this letter was the person who inspired that poem of Whittier which came nearest to a love-song, Memories. He asserts positively that the real object of thi
Covington (Kentucky, United States) (search for this): chapter 12
ft Hartford permanently several months earlier than the date of the letter. He also disapproves, apparently, the assumption of Mr. Phelps that the object of this letter was the person who inspired that poem of Whittier which came nearest to a love-song, Memories. He asserts positively that the real object of this poem was a lady of whom Mr. Pickard thus writes in a newspaper communication since the publication of his volume. She died several years ago, the widow of Judge Thomas of Covington, Ky. She was born in Haverhill, and was a distant relative of Whittier's, her maiden name being Mary Emerson Smith. Her grandmother, Mrs. Nehemiah Emerson, was a second cousin of Whittier's father. As a girl she was often at her grandfather Emerson's, and Whittier as a boy lived for a time at the same place, and attended school in that district. He called Mary's grandmother Aunt. Afterward they were fellow students at Haverhill Academy. When Whittier was editing the American Manufacture
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