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not be quoted in any characterization of the natural warmth and cordiality of the Southern people: The hour perchance is not yet wholly ripe When all shall own it, but the type Whereby we shall be known in every land Is that vast gulf which lips our Southern strand, And through the cold, untempered ocean pours Its genial streams, that far off Arctic shores May sometimes catch upon the softened breeze Strange tropic warmth and hints of summer seas. With the outbreak of hostilities in April, Timrod wrote his passionate lyric A Cry to Arms, and later, Carolina. But none of Timrod's poems had the lyric quality that fits them for popular music. The union of music and poetry in a splendid impassioned utterance came from James Ryder Randall (1839-1909). Seldom in history have the man, the moment, and the word met in such happy conjunction as in the composition of My Maryland. Randall, a native of Baltimore—just from college in Maryland, and, as he said, full of poetry and romance
August 27th (search for this): chapter 2.16
er song of victory, giving the details of the battle, ending in the triumphant victory of Sumter's volleyed lightning, and closing with an apostrophe to his native city: O glorious Empress of the main, from out thy storied spires Thou well mayst peal thy bells of joy and light thy festal fires,— Since Heaven this day hath striven for thee, hath nerved thy dauntless sons, And thou in clear-eyed faith hast seen God's angels near the guns. This victory was short-lived, however, for on 27 August, by a land attack, Fort Sumter was reduced to a shapeless mass of ruin, though the city itself stood unshaken. As the fate of the city became more and more uncertain, William Gilmore Simms, now in his old age, did all in his power to rouse the Spirit of the inhabitants. In a series of poems, Do Ye Quail? The Angel of the Church, and Our city by the sea, he presents in passionate words the claims of the historic city upon its inhabitants. Especially vivid is his plea for St. Michael's
or a single volume, and thenceforth prone to lead a life of culture rather than of creative activity. The result was that the South, in 1860, had found no adequate expression of her life, no interpretation of her ideals, not even a description of her natural scenery. What writing there was, with few exceptions, was not of the soil nor of the people. Poe, See Book II, Chap. XIV. Edward Coate Pinkney (1802-28), author of the exquisite love-compliment A Health, and Richard Henry Wilde (1789-1847), who wrote the fragrant Stanzas beginning My life is like the summer rose, might have written anywhere. One poem of the War of 1812, one or two of the Mexican War, and some half dozen other lyrics constituted, despite the appearance of not a few volumes of well-meant verse, See Bibliography the poetic output of the South before the Civil War. The Civil War aroused intense emotions that found expression in a large body of lyric poetry, written by some men who were professedly poet
he poetic instinct and the influence of other poets, content with an occasional poem or a single volume, and thenceforth prone to lead a life of culture rather than of creative activity. The result was that the South, in 1860, had found no adequate expression of her life, no interpretation of her ideals, not even a description of her natural scenery. What writing there was, with few exceptions, was not of the soil nor of the people. Poe, See Book II, Chap. XIV. Edward Coate Pinkney (1802-28), author of the exquisite love-compliment A Health, and Richard Henry Wilde (1789-1847), who wrote the fragrant Stanzas beginning My life is like the summer rose, might have written anywhere. One poem of the War of 1812, one or two of the Mexican War, and some half dozen other lyrics constituted, despite the appearance of not a few volumes of well-meant verse, See Bibliography the poetic output of the South before the Civil War. The Civil War aroused intense emotions that found expr
1860, had found no adequate expression of her life, no interpretation of her ideals, not even a description of her natural scenery. What writing there was, with few exceptions, was not of the soil nor of the people. Poe, See Book II, Chap. XIV. Edward Coate Pinkney (1802-28), author of the exquisite love-compliment A Health, and Richard Henry Wilde (1789-1847), who wrote the fragrant Stanzas beginning My life is like the summer rose, might have written anywhere. One poem of the War of 1812, one or two of the Mexican War, and some half dozen other lyrics constituted, despite the appearance of not a few volumes of well-meant verse, See Bibliography the poetic output of the South before the Civil War. The Civil War aroused intense emotions that found expression in a large body of lyric poetry, written by some men who were professedly poets and by more who were but occasionally such. It is difficult for one of the present generation to realize the unity and the fervour of th
we consider the poems from this last point of view, they serve to suggest the principal events of the war in rapid review. The gauntlet was thrown down in the poems hitherto cited and also in Tucker's The Southern Cross, Miles's God save the South, Randall's Battle Cry of the South, Mrs. Warfield's Chant of Defiance, Thompson's Coercion, and Hope's Oath of freedom. Among the group of Virginia poets who wrote of the early battles on Virginia soil, John R. Thompson (1822-73) and Mrs. Preston (1820-97) stand out as the most conspicuous. Of distinctly higher quality than the crude rhymes already referred to were Thompson's humorous poems on some of the early Southern victories. His On to Richmond, modelled on Southey's March to Moscow, is an exceedingly clever poem. His mastery of double and triple rhymes, his unfailing sense of the value of words, and his happy use of the refrain (the pleasant excursion to Richmond) make this poem one of the marked achievements of the period. Scarce
iles's God save the South, Randall's Battle Cry of the South, Mrs. Warfield's Chant of Defiance, Thompson's Coercion, and Hope's Oath of freedom. Among the group of Virginia poets who wrote of the early battles on Virginia soil, John R. Thompson (1822-73) and Mrs. Preston (1820-97) stand out as the most conspicuous. Of distinctly higher quality than the crude rhymes already referred to were Thompson's humorous poems on some of the early Southern victories. His On to Richmond, modelled on Soutch she expresses one of the favourite ideas of the South—that the struggle was between the cavaliers and men of low breeding. The tragic aspects of Virginia and the heroism of her people were visualized also by a Georgia poet, Francis O. Ticknor (1822-74), whose wife was one of the distinguished Nelsons of the Old Dominion. His Our left is the most vivid account of the second battle of Manassas. Virginia is the best tribute we have to the commonwealth that bore the brunt of the struggle. The
ttles of the war. This event more than any other pierced the heart of the South and called forth scores of poems from all sections. One of the early collectors claimed to have found forty-eight of these; at least four or five rise to a high level of expression. No other poem gives anything like so adequate an expression of Jackson—his personal appearance, his religious faith, his impressive commands, his almost magical control of his men—as Stonewall Jackson's way by John Williamson Palmer (1825-1906). Excellent also are Margaret J. Preston's Stonewall Jackson's grave and Under the shade of the trees, Flash's Death of Stonewall Jackson, Randall's The Lone Sentry, and the anonymous The brigade must not know, Sir. In 1863 Charleston was attacked by the Northern fleet and her group of devoted poets gathered about her in suspense. Timrod described the dawn of the eventful day as the city in the broad sunlight of heroic deeds waited for the foe. The hostile smoke of the enemy's fleet
rk there is not the remotest chance for an enduring reputation, and at the same time makes the same suggestion to others who may have acquired a reverence for inspiration so called, and a contempt for the art of versification. Apart from his critical judgment Davidson shows the ability of a careful editor in weighing evidence as to the authorship of All quiet along the Potomac—a poem that all Southerners had claimed as the work of Lamar Fontaine. Now by some ascribed to Thaddeus Oliver (1826-64). Davidson publishes Fontaine's letter claiming positively the authorship, but side by side with it is one from Joel Chandler Harris, who was at that time, according to the editor, planning an edition of Southern poems, and who after much deliberation expresses the opinion that Mrs. Beers is the author of the poem. He quotes also a letter to the same effect from the editor of Harper's magazine. While he himself does not express an opinion, it is not difficult for the reader to be convinc
oetic instinct and the influence of other poets, content with an occasional poem or a single volume, and thenceforth prone to lead a life of culture rather than of creative activity. The result was that the South, in 1860, had found no adequate expression of her life, no interpretation of her ideals, not even a description of her natural scenery. What writing there was, with few exceptions, was not of the soil nor of the people. Poe, See Book II, Chap. XIV. Edward Coate Pinkney (1802-28), author of the exquisite love-compliment A Health, and Richard Henry Wilde (1789-1847), who wrote the fragrant Stanzas beginning My life is like the summer rose, might have written anywhere. One poem of the War of 1812, one or two of the Mexican War, and some half dozen other lyrics constituted, despite the appearance of not a few volumes of well-meant verse, See Bibliography the poetic output of the South before the Civil War. The Civil War aroused intense emotions that found expressi
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