JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND. 443 The sailor, peering through the night, Discerns the distant ray, And hails with joy the welcome light That guides him on his way. Far off on high from out the haze, Till, lighting all with silver glow, In waves of shimmering light. So swift the shad'wy silver sails DAY-DREAMS. Drowsily, dreamily here I lie, Deep in the bracken, beneath the trees; Listlessly watching the clouds glide by, Here do I lazily take mine ease. Cheerily, merrily, high o'er head, Singeth the linnet his mirthful song; Bluebells and violets, round my bed, Mingle their essences all day long. -In Sylvan Shadows Dreaming. WINTER. If summer hath its roses red and violets blue, There shine the holly leaves, like emeralds green, Sings bright and cheerful through the live-long day. JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND. JOSIAH [OSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND was born in Belchertown, Mass., July 24, 1819. His early life was passed upon his father's farm, and his poems give evidence of the close communion with Nature,-for 'tis only to her lover that she reveals herself. Doctor Holland's early life was attended by many difficulties. It was only after an earnest and severe struggle he was enabled to enter the high school at Northampton, and being determined to make good use of his hard-won possession, he over-studied, which resulted in the giving way of his health. After a time he taught penmanship, and later became an operator in a daguerreotype gallery, and from there a district school-master. At twenty-one the study of medicine was begun, and at twenty-five he graduated from the Berkshire Medical College, at Pittsfield, Mass. Doctor Holland settled at Springfield and began practicing, but with no liking for the profession. During this time some articles were written and offered to the Knickerbocker Magazine, and were accepted. Gaining courage to venture further into literary pursuits, he started The Bay State Weekly Courier, but had to abandon it six months later. He now returned to his former vocation of school-teacher, taking a position at Richmond, Va., and three months later became superintendent of public schools in Vicksburg, Miss. Here he put in fifteen months of hard labor, endeavoring to establish a graded educational system, and just as success had crowned his efforts was obliged to return North. We next hear of him as associate editor for Samuel Bowles, on the Springfield Republican, and we are told his first year's salary was but $480.00, the second $700.00. The third year was begun as one third owner, and in fifteen years he sold his share for fourteen times what he originally gave for it. In 1855 Doctor Holland published his first book, "History of Western Massachusetts," in two volumes. In 1857 was published "The Bay Path; A Colonial Tale," which at first was not well received. His "Timothy Titcomb's Letters to Young People, Married and Single," were now started, and in 1858 collected and published, meeting with a remarkable sale, nine editions being sold in a few months. In November was published "BitterSweet; A Poem in Dramatic Form," and this exceeded in sale even the "Titcomb Letters." It is probably as the author of this beautiful poem that Doctor Holland is best known. In 1865 the" Life of Abraham Lincoln" was brought out, and over 100,000 copies have been sold. In 1866 he sold his share Kathrina; in the Republican, and in 1867 issued Her Life and Mine in a Poem." The following year was spent in European travel. In 1870 Doctor Holland assumed the editorship of and helped to found Scribner's Monthly Magazine. A copartnership was formed with Roswell Smith and Scribner, Armstrong & Company, but the leadership fell to Doctor Holland. During his busy literary career Doctor Holland published a score or more successful books. He also gained wide reputation as a lecturer. He was much interested in the subject of education, and in 1872 was elected a member of the Board of Education in New York City, and afterwards was made president of the board. He held, besides, the chairmanship of the board of trustees of the College of the City of New York. Doctor Holland's was a busy life, and when his death occurred, October 12, 1881, his loss was felt deeply and a niche left vacant that could not be readily supplied. One has but to read his poems, every line pregnant with meaning, to understand how great and good was this man's heart. His whole soul abounded and teemed with love for his fellow-creatures. He was possessed of a broad mind and a generous nature, as many who have benefited by his generosity can testify. THRENODY. N. L. M. OH, sweet are the scents and songs of spring And brave are the summer flowers; And chill are the autumn winds that bring And the world goes round and round, The hawk sails over the sunny hill; The brook trolls on in the shade; But the friends I have lost lie cold and still And the sun glides into the sea; And whether I'm on or under the ground, O life, why art thou so bright and boon! O friends, how can ye forget so soon The ways of men are busy and bright; It is sweet for the eyes to behold the light, But if life awake, and will never cease And the sun sink into the sea; WORDS. THE robin repeats his two musical words, Thrasher and woodpecker, cuckoo and wren, Chatting and singing with careless tongue; Words measure power, and they measure thine; Is of eternity only the heir. Words measure life, and they measure its joy! Thou hast more joy in thy childish years Than the birds of a hundred tuneful spheresSo, sing with the beautiful birds, my boy! ALONE. ALL alone in the world! all alone! With a child on my knee, or a wife on my breast, JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND. Or, sitting beside me, the beautiful guest Whom my heart leaps to greet as its sweetest and best, Still alone in the world! all alone! With my visions of beauty, alone! Too fair to be painted, too fleet to be scanned, Too regal to stay at my feeble command, They pass from the grasp of my impotent hand; Still alone in the world! all alone! Alone with my conscience, alone! Not an eye that can see when its finger of flame Points my soul to its sin, or consumes it with shame! Not an ear that can hear its low whisper of blame! Still alone in the world! all alone! In my visions of self, all alone! The weakness, the meanness, the guilt that I see, Still alone in the world! all alone! Alone in my worship, alone! No hand in the universe joining with mine, In the valley of death, all alone! The sighs and the tears of my friends are in vain, For mine is the passage, and mine is the pain, And mine the sad sinking of bosom and brain: Still alone in the world! all alone! Not alone! never, never alone! There is one who is with me by day and by night, Not alone! never, never alone! He sees all my weakness with pitying eyes, DOUBT. The day is quenched, and the sun is fled; God has forgotten the world! The moon is gone, and the stars are dead; God has forgotten the world! There is no good; there is no God; And Faith is a heartless cheat Who bares the back for the Devil's rod, And scatters thorns for the feet. What are prayers in the lips of death, Filling and chilling with hail? What are prayers but the wasted breath Beaten back by the gale? The day is quenched, and the sun is fled; God has forgotten the world! The moon is gone, and the stars are dead; God has forgotten the world! FAITH. 445 -Bitter-Sweet. Day will return with a fresher boon; Sorrow the servant of Joy; And the soul is mad that refuses food And love is lit by the breath of sighs; Strong grows the oak in the sweeping storm; |