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former captain of volunteers was now a king of men. Lincoln was embarrassed on that occasion, it is said, by Bryant's fastidious, dignified presence.
Not so Nathaniel Hawthorne, who had seen the poet in Rome, two years before.
“There was a weary look in his face,” wrote Hawthorne, “as if he were tired of seeing things and doing things.
... He uttered neither passion nor poetry, but excellent good sense, and accurate information, on whatever subject transpired; a very pleasant man to associate with, but rather cold, I should imagine, if one should seek to touch his heart with one's own.”
Such was the impression Bryant made upon less gifted men than Hawthorne, as he lived out his long and useful life in the Ktiickerbocker city.
Toward the close of it he was in great demand for public occasions; and it was after delivering a speech dedicating a statue to Mazzini in Central Park in 1878, when Bryant was eightyfour, that a fit of dizziness caused a fall which proved fatal to the venerable poet.
It was just seventy years since Dr. Peter Bryant had published his boy's verses on The Embargo.
Although Bryant's poetry has never roused any vociferous excitement, it has enduring qualities.
The spiritual preoccupations of many a voiceless
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