Lynchburg daily Virginian. [volume] (Lynchburg [Va.]) 1852-1861, 1854-06-08
The ereenhorn and the Poet"

A highly valued personal friend of the writer
hereof. n citizen of neghboring city, recently
enclosed the following in private letter address
sed to a lady relative of the late Willis Gaylord
Clark, then resident of Savannah, but who,
alas, since its receipt has joined the lamented
poet ''in the land of the blest." The writer of
the letter, in referring TO the article, suggests
the name Of the poet Whittier the probable
author lie is undoubtedly correct. Mr.. Clark
died in Philadelphia, we believe, in 1871, in the
triumphs of Christian faith, aged about thirty
four years, having achieved II fame III letters,
even at that early age, which long recurring
years will not obscure
"Once on time, went to see Willis Gaylord
Clark, then editor of the Philadelphia Gazette.
| remember the clothes | wore and how arrang-
cd them and brushed them to take OFT the coun-
try, but it would stick to them That gray I'm
sey -wooisey coatee, made eapacious to invite
growth, with huge pockets outside for chesnuts
and apples the thick wooden mittens trousers of
the same material, rough inside as a rasp to
promote counter irritation and dilute the blood,
made of ample dimension, with tucks, to
last for Sundays two winters, and for common
indefinitely; n waistcoat somewhat short, but
wide to compensate, with staring brown figures,
big and bold as IA compromise with the cravat OF
the same color; commodous high boots, heavy
and hon ed, emitting compound of leather
and grease, when near the fire; wool hat of as
FlTinB cloWD anu
cotton bandanna, to display on occasions OF
emotion.
$50 attired | went to the city of Brotherly
Love, with forty pairs of chickens, six turkeys,
and two opossums--the latter harpooned III the
hen roost with pitchiork, and their carcasses,
otherwise contraband, to be sold to pay for the
Expectations with this provender to sell on ac-
count of my guardian and poem in those trow-
sers pockets to exhibit on my own account, |
went. The marketing sold not to the best advan-
! tage either, for the poem and Mr.. Clark were in
! my mind | called ut the office, inquired Tor the
editor. stated my business personal and pri
vatc,' and was ushered into the sanetum, amid
the smiles of the clerks and others.
" Mr.. Clark alone ana deeply absorbed;
and there was IN the presence of roal live poet.
| slid quietly along to halt the nearest chair hold
ing my wool cap between my knees and the ban
danna i'll my hand awaiting him to look up. He
did so in "A few moments; and the pensiye, almost
melancholy beeuty of his face lit up with faint
smile as he the rustic apparition, | was all
eyes, for there sat the man who edited our paper
and writ the verses | had cried over in the barn
and cornteld,and tried to initiate, on Sunday NOR
nngs when our folks had gone to church. My
eurnestness, suppose interested him. He did nj
laugh, as feared, but gently said:
:. Do you wish to me sir J.,
Il sad Yes And trembled, and my eyes
filled in spite of my self. Il came TO ask your ad
vice about some lines have written
You write verses. do you : he said pleasantly
and added III poor business
Not if could write such as yours | re-
piled.
Perhaps you mav,' said he. Allow me to see
yours. What do You call them !!
The Home of the Poets said |, handing the
poper--t was substantial foolscap, well tum-
bled.
Poets have no home EARTH he said ; and
the terrible pathos thrilled me like an arrow.
Il have made their home in heaven said
land have given them "a superior place, for |
think exalted natures must reach higher place
i'll whatever sphere they attain to-
lie looked at, me steadily for moment and
then read the poem of thirty verses twice over,
during which watched his face, so pale with
such deep lines of thought and suffering, ma.
ture so purely emotional forced INTO sphere SO
wholly executive, fitted to dream and glow. but
compelled 10 work and suffer- till my heart went
out t. him with bound. Finishing the poemhe
said
My young friend, Nature made you poet
there's no denying that and it will puzzle man
to unmake you, III give you ten dollars for this
and publish it,
Thank YOU said as well as could Il don't
want to publish it, Then he handed me some of
his own manuscripts, which read, and | passed
never tobe- forgotten hour or two with him.
reeur to it always with the greatest pleasure it
was noble in him so to receive green gawkey
boy aud read my crude rhymes. And a thous-
and times since, when the promise of life has
turned to ashes, and the victory seemed not
worth the battle, have REQUIRED to that inter
view and resolved to struggle | left Mr.. Clark,
threw the rhymes into the desk with hundreds OF
others, plunged into commerce and reform, grad
uated through. Quakerism to some spiritual faith,
but rejected and disbelieved my gift of poesy-
scarcely believe it now but occasionally look
back to Mr.. Clark's gcner US words,and then the
rhyming impulse carries me out of trade and tu-
multi to the sweet, still places, far inward and
upword.