Virginian-pilot. (Norfolk, Va.) 1898-1911, 1900-05-23
breath OF the early morn. touch res
ponsive chords in every heart.


She bowed in her desolate silence,
And mourned by the graves of her
dead;
And she longed for the consolation
That comes when the tears are shNi.
Till his strains. as they fell, awakened
In the soul that bent DER the sod,
New faith In the gracious designings-
In the hidden purpose of God.
He'd learned. as he knelt at His altar,
To trust In Omnipotent Love;
And his song had an inspiration
Which echoed the music above.
He took all our idle complainings,
And 10! in their stead. in one mouth,
His song. as low duplication,
Welled up from the heart of the
South.
His strains. full OF pathos and glory,
And heard of Il listening world
Entwined. as a wreath of immortelles,
The flag that We YEARLY furled.
There is never a grave so humble.
In all the desolate land,
But his verse has inscribed upon 1t
An epitaph stately and grand.
Once more-by the beds of the dying,
In the homes of the peetlent West
His song, like low misercre.
Goes up from his plying breast.
A wall for the woe OF his people.
plea that Gods mercy would spare,
And we take up his lowly burdens.
And change all our murmurs to
prayer.
All! The South is stricken and an
guished;
But never 4 heart can forget
The soiace his music has brought US
And it's echo lingereth yeti
Better known In the religious and H.
tcrary world as Father Ryan, the poet
priest he was born in the City of Nor
folk, in 1899. Some writer's having sug-
gested a doubt as to the place of his
birth. it may be well al this opportune
time. to set the matter at rest, by say
Ing that the house in which he was
porn. on Chapel street extended is
known to many residents in this city;
and letters. in possession Of the family,
from Father Ryan himself, leave the
question no longer open to controversy.
| Thoroughly educated and consecrated
to the priesthood. we find him at an
SuiiS dStI NHdDldlll III l1e
Army His holy life, his bright example,
his eloquent instruction, and his deep
interest in the spiritual welfare of his
comrades, have passed into history
| In the sprig of 1856 he went to the
Monastery of the Franciscan Fathers
in Louisville, Kentucky, to spend a
week in solitude and prayer, and medi-
tation upon the truths of salvation for
his own benefit. Always taking the
Of IL
feet and n light unto his path. 1t was
OF Death knocked at the door OF the
Monastery. 1t sould find the holy man
engaged In writing the Life of
Christ He died OF heart disease on the
22nd of April. 1856. at the early age Of
fortysix. Great honors were shown
him. While lying in state. his remains
were visited by hundreds of people. and
multitudcs attended his burial services.
Distinguished gentleman of the South
escorted his remains to the City of
Mobile, and laid him gently to rest in
the land of the myrtle and the orange
blossom.
His eye is dimmed, his voice Is stilled.
his harp Is unstrung; but the music of
his song will be waited to distant
climes, and echoing along the shores of
time. will awaken the sweetest memo
ries and the tendercst emotions of the
| human heart.
The life of a great man is an inspira--
ton. 1t is an incentive to high and noble
resolves. to great and mighty deeds
1t awakens the slumbering energies OF
our natures. and spurs to laudable am
bition. But the death of n good man
| Is like the sweet incense rising from
the altar. 1t is a Thanksgiving and a
praise. 1t is n bencdiction and n bless
ing. 1t is a hymn of rejoicing-a song
Of triumph that swells from Earth to
Heaven.
am greatly tempted by the time and
the occasion to wander into the inviting
field before me;to analiZe the character.
the environments, and the writings Of
the distinguished poet. and to dwell up
on the stirring times that kindled tire
spark in his bosom to a flame of fire;
but the limited time allotted to these
ceremonies admonishes me that must
not trespa6s upon the privilege; and
forbids me doing more than laying this
simple tribute at his feet, and wreath
| ing this cross with the affections of a
heart that beats responsive to every
note of his patriotic and plaintive
songs
Mr.. Charles ]. OMalley. the scholarly
editor of 1.-The Midland Review" has
added to the interest OF this occasion
by contributing short poem, which it
gives me pleasure to read
A VOICE FROM NORFOLK.
He Is not dead. who sang OF the South,
her truth and her beauty;
Her valleys of light. and her lilies
aglow on the long lagoon;
Her gray capes tearing the sea. and her
oranges hanging. golden.
AS, round. under Nights high boughs,