Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1861-01-23
PoR THE SPIRIT OF TIVE AGE.


Tins IS an age of progression, andrt has
been said that in the advancing strides of its
march, Poetry has been crushed out of exis-
tence, and by the many clegiestha have been
chantcd DER 1t, enc would naturally infer that
such was the case. But poetry is not dead.
its spirit is still abroad, and its wings are still
brooding DER al that is holy and beautiful.
and the very elegies which have been chanted
over II, have but proved its existence.
IN bird that sings, even a p~laintive Law,
IN the dim old woods, is yet a living poet
Even our tears of sorrow which fall like rain
from our eyes, breathe music, and we weep
poetry. Every tear that glistens like brilliant
gems upon the trembling eye lashes, is in it.
sell n poem, even as the one melodious tear
which fell on the grave of Lycidas, was a DO
en- OF Milton. No, gentle reader, poetry is
not dead; believe not the SANDER; it can never
die, neither can it sleep. 1t is abroad in the
night watches, It comes to us in the shirt
land, and hovers above us on the golden WINGS
OF dreams. II is awake when the twinEIing
stars of heaven, one by ono from their cham.
bers creep and are hung as lamps of light
upon the azure ~dome-when the gentle
Eephyrs rustic the leaves Of the dark. dim
trees-when the s~leepless mother thinks up-
on her absent son-when the sailors bride
hAA
munion in the secret chambers of the hidden
rocks.
Observation-Disclosures Poetry can
never a. That which is of itself an sttr;-
Ir4 OF an immortai spirit, must partake of
us immortality. God * poetru. ,aad everv
true believer is a poet. God and poetrv arc
one-above US, and immortal. The things
OF earth may pass away, but the lofty asni.
rations Of a true poetic soul-never Tho
world has veto learn the distinction betu.noo
poetry and rhyme. 10 be a poet and h
write verse, are two very different things
We cannot confinc poetry to metre. for RHYME
but adds to verse a certain harmony. A star.
gas is only a musical box, competent to NAV
n certain number Of tunes. RHYMES ara hut
bells, whose peals are confined to their num-
Der. However musical the poetry of rhyme
real poetry appears plain metre, and disreoar'
dinga all measure, she often steps in the fields
OF verse, while buds and blossoms snring nm
beneath hz feet.
The rue poet is unselfsh, he does not mt
the sun in ms pocket for his W use bnt
rather gives its radiance to all. And the M.
ct leyer-though many miles away-is still
WITH ms mistress. The moon, of whose bean
y he sings, shines over her home. The oen-
1le Sephyrs, upon thcirlight wings, bear unto
nun her signs and means, and nature has no
charms, Imagination no fancies, but with
which she il connected.
Then say not poetry is dead, for it is i'm
mortal, and though for n time its brilliancv
may be dimmed by the hosts of insects who
Hitter in is glare, yet soon shall be among
the things thatthey were, and poetry, true
nohe-God-ljke poetry shine in refulrent plo.
~, and unfaaing splendor.
Awake then, We poets OF the Sunny South
ye have slumbered too long the snails of
the fanatical North have outstripped We in the
race, but not Ivy any mate power ortheir own
out through your own supineness. There
are Psre dSdga0nds buried now, bat the chiseI
OF time shan show their beauties to perfec-
ton, and that period is not far distant when
Southern talent shall stand forth. Knowing
no equal, fearing no superior, and BEARING
aloit the motto Excelsior shall startle the
world with the sPlendor Of its achievements.
"od 6tess TIE S0Uth-equaRty an the Union
or independence out Of IL.
Baltimore, Md.