Library of the best American literature: Containing the lives of our authors in story form, their portraits, their homes, and their personal traits, how they worked and what they wrote; choice selections from eminent writers, embracing great American poets and novelists, foremost women in American letters, distinguished critics and essayists, our national humorists, noted journalists and magazine contributors, popular writers for young people, great orators and public lecturers
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Library of the best American literature: Containing the lives of our authors in story form, their portraits, their homes, and their personal traits, how they worked and what they wrote; choice selections from eminent writers, embracing great American poets and novelists, foremost women in American letters, distinguished critics and essayists, our national humorists, noted journalists and magazine contributors, popular writers for young people, great orators and public lecturers
American literature
I would that in such wings of gold,
I could my weary heart up-fold;
I would I could look down unmoved,
(Unloving as I am unloved,)
And while the world throngs on beneath,
Smooth down my cares, and calmly breathe;
And never sad with others’ sadness,
And never glad with others’ gladness,
Listen, unstirred, to knell or chime,
And, lapped in quiet, bide my time.
Illustration: (‡ decoration)
Illustration: (‡ decoration)
RICHARD HENRY STODDARD.
POET AND JOURNALIST.
WITH no commanding antecedents to support him, Richard Henry Stoddard
has, step by step, fought his way to a position which is alike
creditable to his indomitable energy and his genius. Stoddard was born
July 2, 1825, at Hingham, Mass. His father was a sea-captain, who,
while the poet was yet in his early youth, sailed for Sweden. Tidings
of his vessel never came back,――this was in 1835. The mother removed,
the same year, with her son to New York, where he attended the public
schools of the city. Necessity compelled the widow, as soon as his age
permitted, to put young Stoddard to work, and he was placed in an iron
foundry to learn this trade. “Here he worked for some years,” says one
of his biographers, “dreaming in the intervals of his toil, and even
then moulding his thoughts into the symmetry of verse while he moulded
the moulten metal into shapes of grace.” At the same time he pursued a
course of private reading and study, and began to write poems and
sketches for his own pleasure.
It was in 1847 that the earliest blossoms of his genius appeared in
the “Union Magazine,” which gave evidence that his mind as well as his
body was toiling. In 1848 he issued a small volume of poems entitled,
“Footprints,” which contained some pieces of merit; but he afterwards
suppressed the entire edition. About this time his health failed and,
to recuperate, he gave up, temporarily, his mechanical vocation; but
literature took such possession of him that he never returned to the
foundry.
In 1852 he issued his second volume entitled, “Poems,” and became a
regular contributor to the magazines. In 1860 he was made literary
editor of the “New York World,” which position he retained until 1870,
and since 1880 he has held a similar position on the “New York Mail
and Express.” He, also, from 1853 to 1873 held a government position
in the Custom House of New York. During this time Mr. Stoddard also
edited a number of works with prefaces and introductions by himself,
among which may be mentioned the “Bric-a-Brac Series.” Prominent
titles of the author’s own books are “Songs of Summer,” which appeared
in 1856; “The King’s Bell,” a series of most delicate suggestive
pictures, (1862); “Abraham Lincoln, A Horatian Ode,” (1865); “The
Book of the East,” poems, (1871); a collective edition entitled,
“Poems,” (1880), and “The Lion’s Cub,” poems, (1890).
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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