Her introduction to the world of letters was by means of her first
poem, "Land-Locked," which, by the hand of a friend, was brought to
the notice of James Russell Lowell, at that time editor of the
"Atlantic." He printed it at once, without exchanging a word with the
author. She knew nothing about it until the magazine was laid before
her. This recognition of her talent was a delight indeed, and it was
one of the happiest incidents in a life which was already overclouded
with difficulties and sorrow. It will not be out of place to reprint
this poem here, because it must assure every reader of the pure poetic
gift which was in her. In form, in movement, and in thought it is as
beautiful as her latest work.
LAND-LOCKED
Black lie the hills; swiftly doth daylight flee;
And, catching gleams of sunset's dying smile,
Through the dusk land for many a changing mile
The river runneth softly to the sea.
O happy river, could I follow thee!
O yearning heart, that never can be still!
O wistful eyes, that watch the steadfast hill,
Longing for level line of solemn sea!
Have patience; here are flowers and songs of birds,
Beauty and fragrance, wealth of sound and sight,
All summer's glory thine from morn till night,
And life too full of joy for uttered words.
Neither am I ungrateful; but I dream
Deliciously how twilight falls to-night
Over the glimmering water, how the light
Dies blissfully away, until I seem
To feel the wind, sea-scented, on my cheek,
To catch the sound of dusky, flapping sail,
And dip of oars, and voices on the gale
Afar off, calling low,--my name they speak!
O Earth! thy summer song of joy may soar
Ringing to heaven in triumph.
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