The States and Union. [volume] (Ashland, Ohio) 1868-1872, 1871-02-22
Death of Alice Cary.

Miss Alice Cary, the poetess, was
buried yesterday from the church of
the stranger, in New York. At the
age of fifty-one, this distinguished
literary woman disappears from al
in which, in spite ola fee
BILE physical organization, she has Won
an enduring fame by a refined and blu
sy pen. Never in her life possessing
an overlooking vitality, she has long
been q sufferer from career, and for
the last two years, from paralysis
No word has reached US OF late that
her sickness had assumed n fatal as
pect, and her death on Sunday morn
ing must have been unexpected. She
has gone, leaving many lines which
will not perish and no line that any
true and gentle nature could wish to
blot.
Alice Cary was born in this county
in 1920, a few miles North OF Cincin
natl, where she and her sister Phoebe,
also unmarried, continued to live I'M
til they removed to New York twenty
one years ago. For the last twenty
five years Alice Cary has been n wri-
ter for the press and magazines, her
field being poetry and fiction. The
delicate, flavor Of her poetry attract
ed attention at the outset of her ca
Almost every poem she has
ever published has this merit, a touch
of power in Illuminating a word Oh
turning a descriptive passage that is
entirely her own. Her first complete
poetical triumph in the popular sense
vas in ':Lyra," first published in the
Home Journal with a flattering notice
by N p. Wills, who admiringly
pointed out that it was a woman's
echo of Millions "Lycidas." Miss
Cary's novels are quiet pictures, beau
tiful In sentiment and transparent as
crystal in moral tone, but not striking
an incident or arrangement, nor i'll
dicative of breadth in the delineations
of men and women But her poems
have a quality that is due to- her gem
US that no mind except her w
could precisely impart- Prior to
1860 several of Miss Cary's stories
appeared in this journal in a serial
form, having been written expressly
for the Commercial; and many Of her
original poems first appeared in our
columns. The stories were widely
read and enjoyed, and the poems were
universally copied.
In 1850 Alice and Phoebe removed
to New York, where they have resil-
ed ever since, surrounded by a com
fort and comparative elegance of their
own creation, and by friends of infiu-
ence, who were attracted by their cul
tivaled minds and genial Manners
Alice has always been an industrious
worker, and her productions were
much sought aftersby the most extern
sive publishers of the metropolis
She labored faithfully and intensely,
for il was not enough for her to have
happy thought or delicious theme.
Every word must have a polish, and
every verse q perfume like that of n
wild flower. No creature that ever
lived loved nature more earnestly and
dutifully than Alice Cary, and few OF
the worlds greatest singers have in
terpreted it i'll more picturesque and
telling lines. In play of the imagina-
ton Alice Cary is unrivaled among
our p~oetesses. Her imagination soar
ed, even like Shakspeare's, into weav-
ing new meanings for words. She
lei the calm, retired life of a maiden
lady. and it is not strange that her
writings are graceful rather than stir
ring. Her poems are symmetrical,
finished, dainty, sweet, very clear in
meaning, and fairly flow in mus &c
her rank as an American poetcss
must remain a matter of opinion,
but we shall remember her as first
among those of her sex and her era
Her several published volumes of po-
etry will go down to posterity, and
she will. always fill a niche that the
spark of divine fire alone can render
sacred from oblivion.
We have frequently alluded to the
charming weekly reception held by
the Cary Sisters at their home in New
York. On these occasions they en-
tertained many of the most solid and
brilliant of the literary men and wo-
lei of their wide acquaintance. In
personal appearance Alice Cary was a
tall, scdate looking brunette, with
large eloquent dark eyes. Though
life had for her one of the heaviest of
burdens in %ill-health, often entailing
acute pain, her writings are not meIan
choly or despairing. An apple tree
in blossom or n maple touched by au
tumnal dyes would fill her mind with
a thousand images, al she fixed them
with verse.
Alice Cary spent her last weary
summer in New England, and there
she wrote the following beautiful
lines. While they serve to remind
us of how much genius must hence
forth be hidden in the grave, they dis
close with ii plainiiveness and a path.
os most touching hat in Alice Cary's
nature there was such a wealth of
beautiful thought that her anguish
was often forgotten even when death
was gathering its deeper shadows
around:
AN INVALTD'S PLEA.