Virginia free press. (Charlestown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1832-1916, 1868-05-28
MISCELLANY.
THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET.
Written for The n. Y. Evening Mail,
By BARRY GRAY.

Bucket" written by Samuel Woodwork,
through the circumstance that personal friend
of the poet, Jerome Thompson, has painted a
picture with this familiar title. 1t is, in fact,
view from life of the poets birthplace, at
Situate, Massachusetts,, with the well in the
foreground, and the bucket" The old oaken
bucket, the iron bound bucket, the moss COW
cred bucket"-poised upon the curb Of it, and
the boy Woodworth, accompanied by sister
younger than himself drinking from it.
We do not purpose to enter into a minute
description or criticism of this work; sufficient
is it to say that no picture has been printed
since Eastman johnson gave us his "Old Ken
lucky Home" which appeals so warmly to the
home-like feelings and best sentiments Of our
nature Indeed, with such subject no artist
could do otherwise than make an interesting
picture 1t is essentially an American theme;
indeed it may be termed a New England idyl,
so characteristic is it of not only the pastoral life
of that region as it was more than half CEN
tury ago, but also as it exists in many favored
and primeval localities.
OF this song, the late William Leggett, one
of the most discriminating of writers and crit
les. said " Its merit consists in the graphic ac-
curacy of the description, the simplicity and
nature of its sentiments, and the melodous flow
Of its versifcation. 1t appeals to feelings
-, mb
they may be suppressed for a while, can never
be extinguished, but are called up anew by such
strains as the one we are speaking of, with
train of sweet associations that clap us in Ely
sum-" Amidst the thousand vexations and
perplexities of business, the mere perusal or
accidental hearing of this song gathers around
us the scenes and companions of our school
davs, creating in our hearts tide of emotions,
fresh and pure as the fountain that gushes from
the rock of the desert.
We hear the splash Of the water as it falls
down the sides of the moss-lined well we view
the dimping and ripping unduations Of the
surface below, as it is sprinkled by the drip
nino upon IL we see on one side the meadow,
green with the fragrant luxuriance of summer,
and. on the other the bridge and the cataract
and the dairy-house the coolness of the wa
ter is on the lip, familiar noises are sounding in
our ear. and, in short this delightful little poem
forms around us, with the delusive power Of a
dream. a chain of heart-hoarded circumstances
which can never be united again, except by tho
wichery of the poet, or the wand of fancy IN
those still hours when she exerts full influence
over our minds"
He might also have added, or by that magic
art which is developed through the pencil Of
the painter. For if these feelings could be
called forth by the mere perusal or accidental
hearing of this song" they could not fail to be
awakened by the sight Of the very scene itself
so vividy and truthfully portrayed as it has
been by Mr. Thompson.
Fitz Greene Haleck, in those beautiful lines,
"To Poets Daughter" written in the album
Of Miss Harriet Woodwork, renders the fol-
lowing graceful compliment to her father, the
author of the "Old Oaken Bucket"
A Poets daughter? Could claim
The consanguinity of fame,
Veins Of my intellectual frame
Your blood would glow
Proudly to sing that gentlest name
OF aught below.
A poets daughter Dearer word
Lip hath not spoke nor listener heard
Ht theme for song Of bee and bird
From morn till even,
And wind harp by the breathing stirred
or star-lit heaven.
Nv spirits wings are weak, therefore
Poetic comes but 20 expire;
Her name needs not my humble Tyre
She hath already from her sire
All bard can give.
General George P. Morris, with whom Wood
worth was associated in the establishment and
conduct Of the old New York Mirror during
the first year of its existence, in 1923, thus al
Indies 70 him: He was a genuine poet Of Ma
tures own creation. He wrote because he
could not help yielding to the impulse of his
genius; and all his productions breathe a pure,
healthy benevolent spirit, and are invariably
found in sentiment and musical in expression.
His odd Oaken Bucket will be sung, read, and
admired as long as cool water from the well
continues to slake the thirst Of the weary trav-
eler."
The following reminiscence from private
le,tor is interesting. "'The Old 0aken Buck
~ was written in the summer Of 1917, when
the poet was living in Duane street. in this
citv Coming home TO dinner at noon he was
much heated, and drank glass of water
New York pump-water-eXclaiming as he
placed it on the table, That is very refreshing
but how much more refreshing would - sbe TO
take good long draught, this warm day, from
the old oaken bucket left hanging in my IA
theirs well at home Hearing this the poets
wife said. why, wouldn't that be pretty
subject for poem - WoOdworth took the
hint, and, under the inspiration Of the moment,
wrote those beautiful lines which have immor-
talzed his name"
This bucket, so far at least as its slaves are
concerned. for It has been new bottomed and
new hooped, and rs in somewhat dilapidated
condition moreover, is in the possession OF Mr..
A.D. FRYE twho owns the painting OF the
cold Oaken Bucket" now on exhibition at the
Fino ~, Gallaries. corner Of Fifth avenue and