The Union. [volume] (Georgetown, Del.) 1863-1866, 1864-04-01
COrfsspohdsscs 81 itzs JKs0s. -.
LETTER FR0M MILTON.
mirror, March %, 1864.

husb itDerty 70 uOre tno pupho WIN ouSoI
songs and every Imaginable poCtical compo-
sition to tho lovely springwell, not to be be-
hind the rest Of hs fhyming gentry, took
1t into nay hesE 4 sddress myself to the
favor of Segylsp9 py somethingof that sort.
So one stormy day Is the.east wind moaned
-dolefully through the pines, set myself in
good earnest to courting the muses.; they
were quite understanding, considering the
weather, and had dashed off the following
ADisspmed of power recedes each northern blast
And wintry storms no more the skies o'ercast,
Soft breathes the zephyr in Aolian strains,
ASPIRING advances Ger the smiling plains;
when sage wisdom thus spoke-"Is it-possi-
BILE Scriblerus, ST." Il am of the mature age
of eighteen "that you too are about to go
the hackneyed round of phrases, and epithets
to this gloomy SPRING Are you about to
dose some martyr with the usual quality of
stuff composed of equal parts of nymphs,
flowers. trees. twilight groves, birds and
loxsp How much more the grave disciple
of Minerva would have uttered, am UMPIRE
pared to say, only know stopped the stream
of wisdom by quietly putting the manuscript
in the rudy fire. Apd L would say to all
poets who writeol he seasons-go and do
likewise. rs
/ don't suppose there was ever poet from
Homer down to the last nine days wonder of
his friends, but has first essayed to celebrate
the annual return Of Spring in soft gliding
verse of some kind, for the edifcatien of all
sublunary nortals, before attempting to tune
his Tyre to nobler strains Oh ill used Spring.
oh season of showers, and mud, and damp
vapors what world of bad poetry has
grated on your sensible ears and till the
end of all time methinks the frey Pegasus of
the rhymer, shall waylay you in woods, the
green fields, by streams, in fens, in wilder
nesses, on mountains and in caverns, and the
rider shall shout welcome, and offer his yer-
ses, the rocks shall rebound with welcome,
the earth shake and TIE stars tremble with
it, and the frogs (the lemoniades) craak it
hoarsely from thsfnperyious marshes
Still, it IS af1HsTf & Is the sIooksr on in
venice" to note the Stiffness of the inspired, -
or rather, l may say the strange inspiration
that produces the same monotonous dribble
from a thousand different brains. Nero's
wish that all Rome had but one head, is here
realized-in diBer'nt sense however. But
why speak so, Of lie -, l had almost
called them poetssI will call them more
properly poetasteH, why | say speak so of
them ? Heaven Laows that there are thou
sand things crying loudly for scorn, else than
these. Indeed, Eonder at times why we
write anything at all, the Ancients, God for
give thola, have a4feads. years, and years
ago, anticipated ssiCst everything we of the
preseut tir,os. rink o. cay s.s,s
saji . Tot 4 ioEinS % casS glance of
hate, in yeras now, but in some old dusty
book you lind eyerish lover, and an evil
eyed Nemesis. You Ny the sublime. but
topple beneath the tremendiou powers Of
Homer and Milton. You speak of love,
CHANGER is ahead, you try satire, Horace and
Juvenal, and Pope, are caustic to the extre-
nifty of bitterness. You are pastoral, Cowse,'
is simple beyond expression, and so on to
the end of the chapter. There is but one
thing where the poet can win eternal fame
now, I speak of thegrandeur of Liberty-not
the stuff spoken d by Thomson, but that
that fights the tyrant whether upon the en-
sanguined field, in the cabinet, the hall, OF
anywhere, and everywhere. The liberty
that born in America, cradlod in blood, fed
mid confusion, trRmpled by oppression
nursed by heroes and cheered by martyrs, is
at last asserting its rights on hundred bloody
plains, gathering strEngth from failure, cour
age from victory, till the world echoes will
the sound, is big With fierce joy, and new
born hope, and thrones totter, and sceptre
: tremble in the fear lalsied hands Of Kings
This is the Liberty mean. This is tn
promise from all eternity, the sublimity tina
prophets felt and labored with, but could no
express. Oh, ye spirits in the form of clay
(who is more p Ye who endure stripes, anc
chains, and calling words, and reproaches
and mockings; ye who wait and grow fain
with hope delayed-bear up but little long
er, the end approaches, the dark night o
slavery is luminous with the day star, red
; denning with the clouds that herald the dawI
of freedom. Oh, ye slaves of the sum,
7 South; ye that frown fens, and swamps, anc
sultry fields, and sombre pines cried unit,
4 God; ye that frown the damp dungeon, wei
tering in your own blood, looked up to tn,
+ midnight stars, and cried and prayed t.
Christ for liberty or death,----he hath answer
ed your prayers, saar freedom eternal
yours. The shackles are removed forever
and the chains rattle no more around you.-
6. The wrath Of the ayenger is weeping cart
=. before him. The thunder of his power r.
a. echoes to heaven, the solitudes are people
a. with the sound, his Lightning darts terribl
y. against the clouds Of oppression, and tn
8. night of ignorance.
And the poet who can seize all this with
= master hand, can feel the inspiration of Ge
= tysburg, of Donelson, of Vicksburg, and of
T hundred embattled plains, may hope for ii
o. fame that fades not, the fame that all ell,
= consuming time, cannot blear, or blot, or fat
:, away. '.
! And now before close, Editor of Il
! Union, will you be so kind as to inform Scri
T. tbat tba d g he an takas tn heart "