Classic and Contemporary Poetry
IN MEMORIAM: W. GILMORE SIMMS; A POEM, by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: The swift mysterious seasons rise and set Last Line: "clear ""coigns of vantage,"" in some deathless star!" Subject(s): Simms, William Gilmore (1806-1870) | ||||||||
THE swift mysterious seasons rise and set; The omnipotent years pass o'er us, bright or dun; -- Dawns blush, and mid-days burn, 'till scarce aware Of what deep meaning haunts our twilight air, We pause bewildered, yearning for the sun; Only to find in that strange evening-tide, By the last sunset pathos sanctified, Pale memory near us, and divine regret! Then memory gently takes us by the hand; And doubtful boundaries of a faded time, Half veiled in mist and rime, Emerge, grow bright, expand; The past becomes the present to our eyes; Poor slaves of dust and death, (As if some trump of resurrection clear Somewhere outpealed, our senses could not hear) Rise, freed from churchyard taint and mortal stain; Old friends! dear comrades! have we met again? God! how these dismal years Of anguished desolation, and veiled tears, Of fettered feeling, and despondent sighs, Wither and shrivel like a parchment scroll Seized by the fury of consuming fire, Before the rapture of the illumined soul, Lifted and lightened by our love's desire! Old friends! dear comrades! have we met once more? Come! let us fondly mark In this weird truce, whose moments soon must flee, 'Twixt the charmed heart and dread reality, Those well-beloved features that ye wore Once on this earthly shore, Now rescued from the void and treacherous dark! O! faces soft or strong, Familiar faces! how ye press and throng Closely about us, while the enchanted light Changes to noonday our long spiritual night! The faithful eyes that beamed in ours of yore, Shine on us in their ancient guileless way, Undimmed, unshorn of one beneficent ray, And vital seeming as our own, to-day; Lips smile, as once they smiled with innocent zest, When round the social board The impetuous flood-tide poured Of curbless mirth, and keen sparkling jest Vanished like wine-foam on its golden crest! We feel the loyal grasp Of many a warm hand, yielding clasp for clasp; But may not stay, alas! we may not stay To greet ye one by one, Comrades! returned from realms beyond the sun; For lo! in rightful precedence of power, "A Saul amongst his brethren," than the rest Loftier, if ruder in his natural might, The man who toiled through fortune's bitterest hour, As calmly steadfast and supremely brave, As if above a fair life's tranquil wave, Brooded the halcyon with unruflled breast; The man whose sturdy frame upheld aright, We meet, (O friends), to consecrate tonight! All pregnant powers that wait On intellectual state, Favored and loved him; earliest, dearest came Imagination, robed in mystical flame; Her clear eyes searching all created things Heavenly and earthly; with vast breadth of wings Engirdled by the magic of a spell ineffable; And like the sportive nymph of woodland bowers, Fancy stole on him coyly, pranked with flowers, Whereof the fairest her white fingers shed, To crown his bended head. Bluff humor true, if broad, Placed in his hand a mirth-evoking rod, While satire, from the heights of reason proud, Flashed a keen gleam, like lightning from a cloud The levin-bolt so sheerly cuts in two, The cloud disparts, to leave -- a luminous blue! All that he was, all that he owned, we know Was lavished freely on one sacred shrine, The shrine of home and country! from the first Fresh blush of youth, when merged in sanguine glow, His life-path seemed a shadowless steep to shine, Leading forever upward to the stars; Through many a desperate and embittered strife That raging, rose and burst Above the storm-wracked waste of middle-life, Down to the day, a few sad years ago, When a grave veteran with his age's scars, He moved among us, like a Titan maimed; Only one glorious goal, Through fate, grief, change, the pure allegiance claimed Of his unconquered and majestic soul; The goal of honor; not that he might rise Alone and dominant; but that all men's eyes Might view, perchance through much brave toil of his, His country stripped of every filthy weed Of crime imputed; in thought, word and deed, A noble people, none would dare despise In their unsullied Palingenesis, (Which he with blissful awe, And all a poet's prescient faith foresaw;) A noble people, o'er their subject-lands Ruling with constant hearts and stainless hands; Their feet firm planted as McGregor's were, Deep in the herbage of their native sod, And every honest forehead free to rear A front unquelled by fear, Untouched by shame, unfurrowed by despair, -- High in man's sight, or bowed alone to God! So, let us rear the shaft, and poise the bust Above the mouldering, but ah! priceless dust Of vanished genius! Let our homage be Large as that splendid prodigality Of force and love, wherewith he stanchly wrought Out from the quarries of his own deep thought, Unnumbered shapes; whether of good or ill, No puny puppets whose false action frets On a false stage, like feeble Marionettes; But life-like, human still; Types of a by-gone age of crime and lust; Or, grand historic forms, in whom we view Re-vivified, and re-created stand, The braves who strove through cloud-encompassed ways, Infinite travail, and malign dispraise, To guard, to save, to wrench from tyrant hordes, By the pen's virtue, or the lordlier sword's Unravished Liberty, The virgin huntress on a virgin strand! I, through whose song your hearts have spoken to-night, Soul-present with you, yet am far away; Outside my exile's home, I watch the sway Of the bowed pine-tops in the gloaming gray, Casting across the melancholy lea, A tint of browner blight; Outside my exile's home, borne to and fro, I hear the inarticulate murmurs flow Of the faint wind-tides breathing like a sea; When, in clear vision, softly dawns on me, (As if in contrast with yon slow decay), The loveliest land that smiles beneath the sky, The coast-land of our Western Italy; I view the waters quivering; quaff the breeze, Whose briny raciness keeps an under taste Of flavorous tropic sweets (perchance swept home, Across the flickering waste Of summer waves, capped by the Ariel foam), From Cuba's perfumed groves, and garden spiceries! Along the horizon-line a vapor swims, Pale rose and amethyst, melting into gold; Up to our feet the fawning ripples rolled, Glimmer an instant, tremble, lapse, and die; The whole rare scene, its every element Etherealized, transmuted subtly, blent By viewless alchemy, By viewless alchemy, Into the glory of a golden mood, Brings potent exaltations, while I walk, (A joyful youth again), The snow-white beaches by the Atlantic Main! Ah! not alone! the carking curse of Time Far from him yet; his bold hopes unsubdued By the long anguish of the woes to be, Midmost his years, in mellow-hearted prime, Beside me stands our stalwart-statured Simms! See! what a Viking's mien! Half tawny locks in careless masses curled Over his ample forehead's massive dome! Eyes of bold outlook, that sometimes beneath Their level-fronted brows, shine lambent, deep, With inspirations scarce aroused from sleep; And sometimes rife with ire, Sent forth as sword-blades from an unbared sheath, Flashes of sudden fire! His whole air breathes of combat, unserene Profounds of feeling, by a scornful world Too early stirred to impotent disdains; Generous withal; bound by all liberal ties Of lordly-natured magnanimities; Whereof we mark the sign In the curved fullness of a mobile mouth, Almost voluptuous; hinting of the south, Whose suns high summer shed through all his veins: Blending the mildness of a cordial grace With sterner traits of his Berserker face, Firm-set as granite, haughty, leonine. No prim Precisian he! his fluent talk Roved thro' all topics, vivifying all; Now deftly ranging level plains of thought, To sink, anon in metaphysical deeps; Whence, by caprice of strange transition brought Outward and upward, the free current sought Ideal summits, gathering in its course, Splendid momentum and imperious force, Till, down it rushed as mighty cataracts fall, Hurled from gaunt mountain steeps! Sportive he could be as a gamesome boy! By heaven! as 'twere but yesterday, I see His tall frame quake with throes of jollity; Hear his rich voice that owned a jovial tone, Jocund as Falstaff's own; And catch moist glints of steel-blue eyes o'errun Sideways, by tiny rivulets of fun! Alas! this vivid vision slowly fades! Its serious beauty, and its flush of joy Pass into nothingness! . . . Stern Death resumes His sombre empire in the dusk of tombs; And the deep umbrage of the cypress glades Is wanly, coldly cast In lengthening gloom o'er the reburied past! What then? the spirit of him We mourn and fain would honor, grows not dim; On earth will live with consummated toil Worthily wrought, despite the hot turmoil Of open enmity, the secret guile, That mole-like burrowed 'neath the fruitful soil Of his broad mental acres, but to show Marks of its crawling littleness between, Each far-extended row Of those hale harvests, glittering gold or green! And somewhere, somewhere in the infinite space, Like all true souls by our Soul-Father prized, It dwells forever individualized; No ghost bewildered 'midst a "No Man's Land;" Outlawed and banned Of fair identity's redeeming grace, Shivering before its wretched phantom self, Marred by Lethean moonshine -- a pale elf, A passionless shadow, but in mind and heart, The mortal creature's marvellous counterpart; Only exalted, nobler; down on us Gazing thro' fathomless ethers luminous; Watching the earth and earth-ways from afar, Perhaps with somewhat of a scornful smile; Yet tempered by the tolerance which beseems One long translated from our sphere of dreams, Hollow illusions, vacant vanities, To that vast actual, which beyond us lies, Where who may guess? midst yonder opulent skies; Clear "coigns of vantage," in some deathless star! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ASPECTS OF THE PINES by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE BEYOND THE POTOMAC by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE CHARLESTON by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE IN HARBOR by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE MACDONALD'S RAID - A.D. 1780 by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE PATIENCE by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE PRE-EXISTENCE by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE THE BATTLE OF CHARLESTON HARBOR by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE THE ROSE AND THORN by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE VICKSBURG by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE A BACHELOR-BOOKWORM'S COMPLAINT OF LAST PRESENTIAL ELECTION by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE |
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