The Birmingham age-herald., 1913-04-06
SIDNEY LANIER
BY MARY INGE HosKIxs

| from some chosen volume or make the
hlght. vocal with music and song: All.
those happy, happy nfghtl They will
ever be remembered with no more regret
than that they will never return. On
such occasions I have seen him walk up
and down the room with his 1lilte extem-
porizins the sweetest music ever vouch-
safed to mortals to hear. At such times
he would seem to be IN IL trance and
his soul could only find expression in the
ecstasy of tone that would catch our souls
with his, in the very seventh heaven of
harmony
This man was unrecognf2ed by tho
world until death ~had claimed him for
us own. lie once said that his head and
heart We're so full of poems, which the
continued struggle for bread would leave
him no time for him to put them on
paper, that he was driven 10 headache
and heartache, purely for want of an
hour to hold his pen He followed many
mes of occupation, but through it all
the call for music, poetry and art was up
permost In his life the divine afflatus SO
opsesseel his very soul that life and death
and the vast forever was tor the time
FORGOTTEN but not for long. FOR the snarl
of the wolf was ever at the door. Grim
want way often an .unwelcome guest
around his. fireside. All, what did IL
avail! He Fought valiantly. he fought
fiercely. he fought well, but the element
of money making was left out i'm the
crucible of his making. Hie was ~ gem
ius, and when did genius and thrift join
hands?
Can him a ne'er do well9 II We could
crystalize some of his natchless thoughts
and hold Them up to the light Of the
sordd today. he would be he strength
OF the ages
His was a life of generosity, he could
not hoard his gains-when he loved his
Foil l.. 10 rio
welcome, aye. thrice welcome to MS
meagre store.
He sought employmenb.in different fields
simply to satisfy the clamor for bread.
He longed with a feverish longing for
time to pour out his soul IN verse-the
melody he could not silence trobped
through his very soul. What a loss to
posterityi His body compelled to work
when his soul was afiame with the fires
Of a passion that could not be famed
What store of melody is denied the
world, because Sidney Lanief must salts
fy the cry of hunger.
After he was confined to his bed, with
the fever of the disease burning through
his veins, he wrote his swan song, poem
that will live through all the ages, The
Marshes of Glynn,' but the world failed
to see its beauty until after he had been
dead for some time. The description of
the sunrise over the marshes is un-
surpassed. u is MS masterpiece
The time is now at hand when Sidney
i.anier will be recognized as one of
Americas great poets. Few writer's
not even in the golden age OF poets,
can compare with him in beauty of die
ton originality of thought and perfect
ness of expression-but he is deadi
Come today and break the alabaster
box, my friend, but it will be over the
senseless clay and not over the man
whom it would have benefited. After
the Ions lapse of years we wake to the
lull realization that Sidney Lanier was
a genius. Why were our eyes holden?
The pity of it ALI Why were we slow
to realize the fneness of the man when
he walked the streets of the town. where
in a towering monument will be erected
to his memory? 1t is we'll to erect the
monument for the dead man, for we
failed to give him the opportunity to do
his best while living. Let us honor the
common clay, but the man will not know
OF the honor Bring forth the flowers,
uprear the white stone. and cut letter
ing to tell of his ineness of soul