The Dallas daily herald. [volume] (Dallas, Tex.) 1873-1887, 1873-03-27
Joseph Brennan, the Irish Poet,


v
nature mirrors the varied beauties OF It's
margin. And,mourniul isit to behold The
favored child Of poesy, who soaring on tho
wings of inspired sosg has found dwell
ing place In lofty regions and In mystic
words created by his own thoughts, fall
from those Empyrean heights in his rad
iant youth, to be consigned to the sepul'
chre of mortal clay Thus does the mighty
oak, riven by lightning and uprooted BY
blast, come crashing to tbs earth, and SO
the gallant ship, victor of many storm,
founders at last aud sinks in mid ocean,
with all its sreamers flying in tho wind,
In such images, ut once, Of beauty and
of horror may be sketched the brief exist
ence of tho loved and lost poet Joseph
Brennan.
lie was Il native Of Cork, Ireland, hav-
ing come into this world in 1929. lie &c
quired a superior classical education at
tho University OF Dublin, which he impro'
we'd upon careful study and industrious
reading.
Endowed with the fatal gift of genius,
he, like his friend and companion, the be-
roic bard Thomas Davis, unrolled the
"green banner and struck his harp with
hot hand and patriot soul
He was an active member OF The Young
Ireland party in the revolution of 1879
After there was no longer any hope for
success, he fled to New York and wrote
Cor the Citizen, then conducted by the
celebrated Irish patriot, John Mitchell.
Brenan was poet, orator, journalist,
wit and man Of rare literary attain
ments.
lie subsequently moved to this city, and
became one of the editors of the New Or.
leans Delta. lie was chiefly famed as
brilliant poet and vigorous political wri'
ter. His style was punGent and lucid, al
ways exact, often eloquent or humorous
Brennan had dauntless, generous ma
turc, as free from the alloy Of the world
as was ever mortal. Truth, bravery, de-
voiion and charity were always with him.
The writer of this brief sketch remem-
bcrs with emotion the "atIic nights, il
which Laurant j. Sigur, Brcuan, Alexan-
der Walker, John s. Thrashcr, aud other
talented journalists engaged in controver-
sy upon some political issue or literary
topic, in tho editorial room of the Delta,
and Brennan poured forth in burning
words the golden treasures OF the radiant
genius.
The unfortunate poet died in May, 1851,
after having bravely battled for life, not
for himself, but others. At twenty ,eight
years Of age he was borne to his grave.
A marble slab marks the humble spot
where he sleeps, in shady corner of the
old st. Louis Cemetery in this city.
1t is to be- regretted that the poems of
Brennan, with q memoir of his life, in two
parts; the first, "Brenan in Ireland" by
DR.. \. Dalton Williams and the second,
"Brenan in America by Walter Hopkins,
bothdistinguished writers hay newer been
published. On his deathbed, Brennan i'm
pressed upon the minds of his friends the
wish that his numerous poems might be
collected together and published in the
form named above, the proceeds Of the
sale to be given to his widow and chill.
dren. The gentlemen chosen by him &C.
cepted the trust conided to them, but
shortly after followed him to shat bourne
from whence no traveller returns"
Brenan's songs strike the reader for
their deep, great passion, emanating form
a throbbing heart, and for their many
beauties of rhyme and smile.
His beautiful poems, "Thanatos,"
"Light," "Albion,' "Chant for Russia"
"Dirge for Devin Reilly and others of
great merit, are too long for quotation.
The exquisite stanzas 40 my wife,
which reveal the authors genius, have ere
this been published; but invariably in an
innocent version. The following is strict
ly accurate:
Como to me, darling, I'm lonely without thee.
Day time and night time I'm dreaming about thee ;
Night time and day time in dreams behold thee,
unwel:ome the waking which ceases 10 fold thee
Come to NE, darling, my sorrows to tighten;
Come in thy bnauty TO bless and TO brighten;
Como in thy wominhood, meekly and lowry
Come in thy lovingness, queenly and holy
Swallows shall nit round the dosolae ruin,
Telling OF spring and its Joyous renewing,
And thoughts OF thy love and its manifold treasure
Are circling my heart with promise of pleasure
oh Spring of my spirit oh, May of my bosom,
Shine out on ny soul TIL il burgeon aud blossom
Tho waste of my life has rose.root within it,
And thy fondness alone to tho sunshine can win it .
Figure which moves like song through the even,
Features lit up with reflex of heaysa,
Eyes like the skies Of poor Erin, our mother,
Where sunshine and shadows arc chasing each other
Smiles coming seldom, but child-ikc and simple,
And opening their eyes from the heart oil dimple;
Oh thanks to the Saviour that even thy seeming
Ia loft to tho exile to brighten his dreaming.
You have been glad when you knew was gladene d.
Dear, are you sad now to hear am siddened
Our hearts ever answer in tunf and in time, love,
As octave to octave, or rhyme unto rhyme, love;
cannot smile, but your cheeks will DO glowing;
You cannot weep, bu my tears will bo flowing
You will not linger when shall have died, luyo,
And could not live without you by my side, love
Come to mo, darling, ere die of my sorrow,
Rise on my gloom like the sun of tomorrow
Strong, swift and fond us tho words which speak,
love,
With song at your lip, and smile on your check
love;
Come, for my heart your absence Is dreary
Haste for my spirit is Sickenel aud weary
Come TO the arms which alone shall cares thea;
Come TO the heart which is throbbing topress thee
After the death of the poet, Mrs. Bren.
an resided for some time in Brooklyn,
New York, where she died u few years
ago, leaving two children, Florence and
George, heirs to their fathers fame.
1t is believed that most of Brenan's
manuscripts are in tho possess ion of his
gifted brother-in-law, Mr.. John Savage,
now connected with the New York Press
The PRESIDENTS PEACE The blood
stained streets of the metropolis of the
South are the answering comment to Gen.
Grants boast that peace had been estab-
lishsd by him in every Southern State