Nashville union and American. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1868-1875, 1871-02-04
THE COUNTRY EDITOR.


down
HIS hercest beams on this devoted town,
And everything was hot and dull and dry,
An august body met-though twas July.
A noble band of martyrs they, in truth,
sootb.
Bat men of mettle all type metaD, who,
To Honor loyal and 70 Virtue true,
When Duty called, could lay lance in rest,
And tilt tourney with the very best
Called members Of the press" to ears polite,
Among the ROi pOElOi 'fnk-slingers" were they
hight.
They crme-these magnAtes from the East and
West,
These "wisest, virtuousest discreetest, best
They met In state; and Boyers took the chair
What beauty blent with grace presided therel-
They talked-and talked ''hke brave men, long
and we'll"
And so at last in this way 1t befel
That one poetic, meek-eyed youth arose,
HE who, from where the western shadows fall,
Sends forth brilliant Sun that 'shinss for
AID
And scorning the dun trammsls Of mere prose,
Asked, "Isn't 1t pttiful
That near q whole city full,
Not to say State fun, Of editors we've got,
And, alas for the hiatus
In the divine dfiatUs,
There isn't poet in the blasted lott
Then this youth, slenderly
Fashioned and tenderly,
Delicate, azure-eyed, young and 80 fair,
Speaking thus, hngerF,
Running his fingers,
JeveIled and white, through his perfumsd hair,
Smoothing his tresses,
While Wonderment guesses,
"Have the MUSES. no place in the Tennessee press?
Have we no brother,
Somewhere or other,
Who can get up some kind Of rhyming adj
dress?"
And now begins the III sd of my woes,
For here 3 certain "heayy man" arose;
Hl,RFF Ekao I'll Na--
swells from the vale, and midway leaves the
storm, ~
So he the solemn silence boldly broke,
Lifted his awful form, and svelled and spoke:
"No poets, quothA repel the charge!
Our stock Of that utensils amply large
Sir, tits related, thst the first white man
Who stepped upon the soil of Michigan
Exclaimed, when he beheld on every hand
The many beauties Of that lovely land,
In Latin (of the canine dialect)
The following words, or words to that eject
IF you are on the hunt for hrst-clRSs ground,
You'd best stop here and take q look around;'
30, in the language of that pioneer,
Isl q,GgT1s poets, 'eircuTHspiee' hereE
And, challenged thus, Of course they looked
around,
But-need say it?-neer poet found.
In all that crowd of genius-g1fted men,
Those potent wielders Of the potent pen,
Those samGons Of the Press-neHspaper "Tri-
tons
Among the minnows, 4" intellectual Titans-
THOSE aces of the Journalistic cards,
Who swayed at win the minds Of countless read
ers
Ia pungent paragraphs and heavy leaders,
Among them all, alas there wasn't one
Gould write line Of verse, saving, alone,
The "heavy man" His call none Of the MUSES.,
However shy or wiIlfuI, e'sr refuses;
His skiIlfu1 hand Las long since learned to
Pegasus like a quartermaster'S mule;
His name will "sOund sdown the distant
ages"
The laureate of countless album pages
But he was coy, and would not be persuaded
And hid his blushing face, and 20 evaded
The curious gaze-"indeed' he really
And, whispering. 81 will ne'er consent" he
They thought him wax-they found him hard
a, steel,
Needless Of threat, im-Purvis to appeal.
To make the story short, the general voice
Centred st last on me-'twas "Hobson's
For. though no touch of Mount Parnassus' fire
Hath been vouchssfed to my poor,
broken lutte,
Its chords discovered, MUSCLES and
mute,
Bearing no kinship to ApOllo's Tyre
Though my Pegasus be sorry beast,
Hardly a quarter-nag, to say the least,
III fed, unkempt and slow as any snail,
With countless c0ckle-burs in name and tail,
With every equine i'll in him combined,
Spawned, string halted, broken-Winded,
blind
Although my verse could not in truth be worse,
Being not poetry but the reverse
Though the machine from which, in former
I ground a few di .jointed. halting rhymes
Upon occasion, is of late fear,
Rusty, unoiled and sadly out of gear
Nathless of all the journalistic guild
| am alone in rhyming not unskilled,
And so, perforce, to this strange dignity as
pire:
Of all the editorial corps the only Eyrsi
This being thus, they chose me there, mem con-,
Preferring half loaf of bread to none,
Or deeming even pTOsy rhyme to be
Better than prose-hine tLlCg lack rhyme-O
1t is no easy berth, must confess:
Poet in ordinary to The Press,
Rhyn in -Chief-Verse GeneralisStmo-
NY "blushing honors" very heavy grow.
But, let me say, all persifage aside,
| take the trust with difhdence and pride
Pride tsa. my hOnOred brethren of the quill,
The craft for whom, through good report or Ill,
The warmest pulses OF my bosom bes,,
Whose lot is mine, in victory or defeat,
Deem me not all unworthy to appear
Their representative, to- night, and here;
And double difhdence-for that, although,
Ere that the God of Day begins TO glow,
The shmmering stars mayhap attract the
sight,
When he appears. in radiant briuiance bright,
And midway in the orbed sky aspires,
They, modest, pale their intellectual fires"
And SO might even have hoped, Perchsnce,
To gain at least transitory glance.
Perhaps a kindly glance-but, ali too soon
Appears the sun in bright, efulgent nOonl
How can hope for aught but PITY
A feeble star-when suns are in the skyt
Why prefer empty rhymes to you, intent
On memories of the young man eioquentr
Whom Time crowns thick with donors as with
days;
Whose brow hath scarcely room to bear his
Who brings fresh proof, with every written
word,
How far the pen is mightier than the sword"
who gives new meaning to the poets song,
When Guilt and Fraud and Tyranny and
II needless of "the pine-tree's withered
At1east ssbeware the awful ArdLGneAei''
And difident, again, that should seem
The guass cham pion of so grand theme
The colOr-be trer, even for q time,
of Truths own valiant body guard sublime,
Tbe conseerated champions of the Free,
FEARLESS and true-THE PRESS OF TENNEssEBl
Vaucbsafe assistance now Genius of Brass
sing TIE COUNTRY EDITOR-aIasI
The times are fallen i'll indeed, that Fate
Grant such theme no better laureate
Notice the adjective-I sing alone
The country editor; although. 1 own,
ia like to join snother's praise with his:
The editor of the metropolis
But. ali! his wreath another hand must
Such lights too grand for feeble wings like
mine.
Small boats must keep near shore, or be I'M
done,
And Icarus may net approach the SUM
And %, unsung by me must be his praises,
| His virtues, charms, accomplishments and
| graces.
| may not chant the proves of the hand
which waves a brilliant BGEny DER the
| land
| That genial, gifted, fortune favored wight,
Who daily proves the saw at least half right
Which says, BE virtuous and be happy
| thus,
! He, being Happy, may Be vIrtuousI
/ Nor yet, again, that vigorous intellect,
/ Skilled to persuade and potent to direct,
1 Whose pen impales the follies of the time,