Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1886-07-17

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Paul Hamilton Hayne.
On the Sth inst. the REcoRD-U UNION pub
lished the news of the death of one of tn,
most gifted poets of the fair South of tht
Union. Above We present portrait of thu
dead sweet singer of the Southern cline
Paul Hamilton Hayne was born at Charles
ton, s. c., January !, 1881. He was edu
Gated at Charleston by his father, Lieuten-
ant Paul H. Hayne, of the United State:
navy, at the Charleston College, from which
he was graduated in 1850. He read law
and was admitted to the bar. but deter
mined to turn To the more pleasing walk:
of literature. To this end he became de
voted student of literary excellence, and
gained by experience constantly as fre
Guent contributor to the Southern Literar,
jfessen0er. For time he was editor OF the
Charleston Literary Gazette, and he was
later connected with the Charleston Erenin.
Ne,rs, and from its beginning III 1897 was
principal editor OF RusseTs Mdgazine, pub
lished at Charleston
From the outset of his young manhood
Hayne was inclined to literary career
and voluntarily chose the instrumentality
of the press for tie schooling OF his genius
As a contributor to several journals o.
Southern importance, on each he made
such a mark as to attract to him wide at
,ention. His best journalistic work wa:
done unauestionabiy while he was in
charge of Rus ellis Magazine, rs men.
toned. His first volume of poems appear
ing when he was but twenty years
of age, placed him under the fire OF the
critics more sharply than had any OF bis
ungathered productions. He had the good
sense not to quarrel with his reviewers, but
to avail of all just criticism as lessons in q
task to be accomplished, and which his per
severance would achieve. 1t was nearly
six wears before he made another attempt
to group his poetical works. This produc-
ton received the welcome he had so much
longed for, since it was unreserved, full
and cordial from delighted public. Two
years later, in 1859, appeared his most pre-
tentious book. "Avolio, Legend of the
Island of Co.'S with poems-lyrical. mis-
cellaneous and dramatic. His editing OF
the poetical works of Henry Timrod in
1873 exhibited his genius in a new hight.
The skill with which he accomplished the
friendly yet critical task was the subject OF
most complimentary and just remark in
all the foremost literary journals of the
time. In the same year his " legends and
Lyrics" appeared from the press of the
Lippincotts, Philadelphia, and was the last
grouped work from his p en-, except The
Mountain of the Lovers" issued in 1875
He continued, however. his literary labors
contributing TO the Leading journals OF this
country and his productions finding place
in many European standard publications
We know very little of the private life ol
Hayne We Judge the man and his mo-
tives wholly by the work of his pen that
has fallen under our notice. He was to US
sweet Southern singer, soul touched
with divine inspiration, a poet born to the
world for the worlds good, a gentle spirit,
loving nature and all her works with 4
depth of intensity rarely paralleled. OF
ali his effusions we find more ia delight us
in the sonnets and his miscellaneous poems
classed as legends and lyrics. From a few
of these the RECORD UNION makes extracts
illustrative of the style of the lamented
genius.
ION the burningof the body of the poet Shelley.
Why did they take thee from thine ocean-grave
o man Of many sorrows? the blue sea
Had been thy brother, and each wandering
wave
That kissed the shores ofthy loved Italy
A solace, and a bessing-the low moan
or the lamenting waters seemed to start
Nltnlu tlly SOUL an ecuo, ana liit tcHe
OF more mournful music in thy heart.
o. therefore didst thou seek them, and pour
forth
To their deep sympathy a sorrowing strain
OF all the woes and wrrtchedness of earth,
That strove to bend thy patient mind in vain;
The Ocean heard thee, loved thee-and the
breast
OF Natures mighty minstrel gave thee-rest
From The Laughing Hours."l
The Laughing Hours before her feet
Are scattering spring time roses,
And the voices iu her soul are sweet
As musics mellowed closes
All hopes and passions heavenly born
In her have met together,
And joy diffuses round her morn
"a mist OF golden weather.
From the Realm of Rest
In the Realm that Nature boundeth,
Are there balmy shores OF peace
Where no passion-torrent soundeth
And no storm-wind seeks release?
Rest they mid the waters golden,
of some undiscovered sea,
Where low, halcyon airs have stolen,
Lingering round them slu'nbTously;.
soft to mine voice is calling
Sweet as tropic winds at night.
Gently signing, family falling
From some wondrous, mystic hight;
And ii gives my soul assurance
OF the land long to know,
Nerving to fresh endurance,
Meath the present weight of voc.
"a Sonnet.l
The glorious star of morning would we blame
Because it burns not on the front OF night?
Or the calm evening planet. that her light
Foretells not sunrise, with its ald-hame?
All things that are should subtly own the same
Eternal law the stars shine on arlght.
Might
Their separate bounds of grace or grandeur
claim;
Not on the low or lofty, great or small.
Should Justice fix for judgment the true soul,
Which sways its own word i'll serene control,
Highest or humblest-such the Masters call
Shall summon upward, with its deep well
done.''
And the Just Father crown his faithful son
ITO His Mother" from Legends and Lyrics
in 1872.
Like streamlets to a silent sea,
These songs with varied motion
Flow from bright Fancy's uplands free,
To Lethe's clouded ocean:
They lapse in deepening music down
The slopes of iower-lit meadows,
Nor dream, poor songs how near them frown
Oblivion's rayless shadows
Yet though of brief and dubious life,
Allwed to incompleteness,
The voices of these lays are rife
With frail and ieeting sweetness;
One chord to make more full the strain,
One note may not smother,
Is echoed in the hearts refrain
Which holds thy name, my mother
To thee my earliest verse brought,
All wreathed in love and roses
Some glowing boyish fancy, fraught
With tender May-wind closes;
Thou did st not taunt my hedgling song,
Nor view its flight with scorning
The bird, thou said st, grown feet and strong,
May yet Outsoar the morning
All me between that hour and this,
Eternities seem flowing;
Ger hapless graves of youth and bliss
Dark cypress boughs are growing:
Our Fate hath dinmed with base alloy
The rich, pure gold of pleasure,
And changed the choral chant of JOY
To Cares heart-brokea measure
But through It all-the blight. the pail,
The stress of thunderous weather
That God who keeps wild chance in thrail
Hath linked our lots together;
So, hand in hand, we sail the gloom,
Faiths mystic plunmet casting
To sound the ways which end IN bloom
or Edens everlasting
bless thee. Dear, with reverent thought
Pale face, and tresses hoary
Whose every siivery thread hath caught
Some hint OF heavenly glory -
TO thee, with trust assured, sublime
Deaths angel call that Waitest.-
To thee. as once Tny earliest ryhme
10. Low, l brizg-my lasest