THE shadow of a bird On the shadow of a bough; Sweet and clear his song is heard, 'Seek me now—I seek thee now.'…
Edward Rowland Sill was a 19th century American poet, newspaperman and teacher. He was born on the 29th April 1841 in Windsor, Connecticut. Both of his parents died while Edward was a young boy so he was raised by an uncle in Ohio. Despite this major early setback he was well educated and studied at Yale University, graduating from there in 1861. His ability as a poet was recognised by the annotation of the title “Class Poet” and a fellow student referred to him, in his personal diary, as “a genius”. Like many other students, before and since, he became a “bonesman” of the “Skull and Bones” college secret society, an organisation that exists to this day. On leaving Yale, Sill was uncertain where his future lay and he tried his hand in the Californian business world first before enrolling himself into the Harvard Divinity School in 1867. However, a life as a clergyman was discounted in favour of journalism as he took up a staff position with the New York Evening Mail. His itchy feet then took him to Ohio where he held two teaching posts between the years 1868-71, and then a further move took him back to California where he was appointed principal of Oakland High School. Sill’s academic life went on for a number of years and included a spell at the University of California as professor of English literature. His health had been poor before moving to the west coast and, sadly, it began to decline further to the point where he had to give up teaching and move back to Ohio in 1883. This proved to be his final move. He settled in Cuyahoga Falls, one of the locations where he had previously enjoyed teaching. From this point on, he decided to devote himself to writing and between that time and his early death his output was prodigious, although relatively insignificant in literary terms. His poetry was largely ignored during his lifetime but, like so many other writers, was more popular after his death. Only one collection was published during his lifetime, this being The Hermitage and Other Poems which came out in 1867 when Sill was in his mid-twenties. Many of his poems concerned the natural world. He wrote about birds and insects in the fields, the transition from a summer’s evening into a dark night and the effects of the changing of the seasons on everyone and everything. Here is an example of his work, a poem called Night and Peace: It seems that Sill was a fairly solitary man and he kept much of his work to himself. Maybe he hoped that it would be discovered after his death, and that is just what happened. The volume of his previously unseen work was considerable and, after careful editing and compilation, publishers were able to release seven volumes of poetry over a period of time. He was described as Edward Rowland Sill died in Cleveland, Ohio on the 27th February 1887, aged 45. He had been in hospital for an unspecified operation.
Edward Rowland Sill şiirleri
THE star, so pure in saintly white, Deep in the solemn soul of night, With dreams of deathless beauty wed, And golden ways that seraphs tread:…
STILL earth turns and pulses stir, And each day hath its deed; But if I be dead to her, What is the life I lead?…
UPON the barren, lonely hill We sat to watch the sinking sun; Below, the land grew dim and still, Whose evening shadow had begun.…
FAREWELL to such a world! Too long I press The crowded pavement with unwilling feet. Pity makes pride, and hate breeds hatefulness. And both are poisons. In the forest, sweet…
HASTE, haste, O laggard!—leave thy drowsy dreams; Cram all thy brain with knowledge—clutch and cram! The earth is wide, the universe is vast: Thou hast infinity to learn. Oh, haste…
AH, could I but be understood!' (I prayed the powers above) 'Could but some spirit, bright and good, Know me and, knowing, love!'…
O GOD, our Father, if we had but truth! Lost truth—which thou perchance Didst let man lose, lest all his wayward youth He waste in song and dance;…
A SEA of shade; with hollow heights above, Where floats the redwood's airy roof away, Whose feathery lace the drowsy breezes move, And softly through the azure windows play.…
I LAY awake and listened, ere the light Began to whiten at the window pane. The world was all asleep: earth was a fane Emptied of worshippers; its dome of night,…
A PURPLE cloud hangs half-way down; Sky, yellow gold below; The naked trees, beyond the town, Like masts against it show,—…
A TROOP of babes in Summer-Land, At heaven's gate—the children's gate: One lifts the latch with rosy hand, Then turns and, dimpling, asks her mate,—…
CLEAR water on smooth rock Could give no foot-hold for a single flower, Or slenderest shaft of grain: The stone must crumble under storm and rain—…
FIVE mites of monads dwelt in a round drop That twinkled on a leaf by a pool in the sun. To the naked eye they lived invisible; Specks, for a world of whom the empty shell…
THE stars know a secret They do not tell; And morn brings a message Hidden well.…
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