Herald and tribune. [volume] (Jonesborough, Tenn.) 1869-current, 1894-05-30
81 A YEAR IN ADVANCE
WILLIAM t. HASKELL.
The Story Of the Poem "Ths RansOmed ~
Written In Lunatic Ayslum.

No State in the Union has surpassed
Tennessee in the mum ber and brillancy
OF its popular stump speakers. II is
doubtful whether any country or any
age ever possessed more rssplendent
galaxy of genius than the decades lust
preceding the war. In that number
William T. Haskell was pre-eminent.
AS potular orator, in the full accep-
tation Of the term, he never had a su-
perior Hon. Harvey Watterson, who
formerly lived in Tennessee, whose ac-
quaintance with distinguished charac-
ters was as extensive as that of any
man of mis- time, once told the writer
that henover saw any man whose power
for moving vast crowds of people by the
thrilling fervor of his speech was COM
parable with that of Haskell.
This remarkable man went the way
OF most OF his class. He was addicted
to drink, and his excessess were such
that he became manical at times. At
length his friends placed him in an in
ebriate asylum. Shortly after his con-
tnement there, while wild from delir-
ium, ne wrote the first Fart of the SUBJ
Joined poem. Afterward, when it SEEM
ed he was going to recover entirely,
and while in that ecstatic consciousness
OF restored manhood, he wrote the sec
ond part of the same poem. He had
relapse, however, and died while VET
young man, at about the opening of the
civil war. Few people have ever seen
this poem, and, so far as known, the
copy here reproduced ia the only one
in existence. The man himself is grad
ually fading out of public memory, for
ne was one of those brilliant, dazzling
meteors that shoot across the armament
and then disappear forever in darkness.
THE RANsoMED.
Pm adrift on Life's ocean, and wildly I
sweep,
Amless and helmless, Its fathomless deep:
The wild t'nds assail me, it threatningiy
storms,
The cloud rol around me in hideous forms.
Idrift to the lee shore! strike! Pm aground!
The mad wa iers whelm me! | drown! OF
drown!
Mercy! o mercy! o Lord set me free,
And take me take me TO heaven and thee
Iwander lies desert-lone, desolate, sad,
Faint, reeling and weary-rm mad! i'm
mad!
No ul Il ma a,u N, aat ,,,o 40
perish! perish! God set me free,
An! hopeless, pray thee, tits idle and vain.
perish! perish! Rain, rain-give me
rain
Let the stream of deliverance flow gently to
me!
And drift me, drift me to heaven and thee.
Mid the wran ylings of men and their con-
fiicts so I erce,
Half mad, and despairing, my lips spit
curse,
Instead of imploring a refuge and peace
From lifes mS ddening battle-for hope and
bear on dehantly, proud, reckless, un-
blanced,
At the dangers that hemmed. The curses
launched
Az earth and heaven-Lord, mercy for me!
Receive me, receive me TO heaven and thee!
N'"' WY o'oi hhs ho"i ho iouBeTi Jueuesert IL
gone;
The battles fie zee strife no more hurries me
on;
The tempests no more lash the oceans calm
breast,
And the clouds float in beauty afar TO the
west.
move through life's bowers full of bliss and
of love,
Looking fondly to earth and with transport
above,
An angel soft whispers: 'The Lord sets
thee free,
To come to me, come to pe-dwell here with
thee"
thank thee, o Lord, that my raving career
Was checked by the hand OF Omnipotence
here.
That struck from its Jared equilibrium the
mind,
Whose balance ny madness and folly COM
bined,
Had .perlled fore 'er in my earthly career.
While nights th hreatening darkness encom-
passed me here,
And my mad soul is ransomed, imprisoned
and free
Pm coming, o Lord! bow gently tn thee.
joy! joy! O anguish and sorrow no more
Shall lead me itt victim, on life's crumbling
shore.
The winds watt NE gently; perish no more;
thirst not-the var of lifes struggles Is DER.
Hope beckons mo on with Its sweet whisper
ing tale
To walk through, all hopefully, life's pleas
ant vale,
And come to tn ee, Lord, unimprisoned and
And / bless thee, o bless thee for mercy to