There's not a breath the dewy leaves to stir; There's not a cloud to spot the sapphire sky; All nature seems a silent worshipper: While saintly Dian, with great, argent eye, Looks down as lucid from the depths on high, As she to earth were Heaven's interpreter: Each twinkling little star shrinks back, too shy Its lesser glory to obtrude by her Who fills the concave and the world with light; And ah! the human spirit must unite In such a harmony of silent lays, Or be the only discord in this night, Which seems to pause for vocal lips to raise The sense of worship into uttered praise.

Alexander Nelson Easton.

In the third generation in the line of Mrs. Kinney, appears a boy, now seventeen years of age, of unusual promise as a poet--Alexander Nelson Easton, grandson of William Burnet and Elizabeth C. Kinney. He has written and published several poems. He took the $50 prize offered by the _Mail and Express_ for the best poem on a Revolutionary incident, written by a child of about twelve years. It was ent.i.tled "Mad Anthony's Charge."

Young Easton was born in Morristown, and spent his early years in this place, in the house on the corner of Macculloch Avenue and Perry Street, belonging to Mrs. Brinley. He began to write at eight years when a little prose piece called "The Council of the Stars," found its way into print, out in California. His next was in verse, written at ten years on "The Oak." That was also published and copied. A "Ballad" followed "A Scottish Battle Song," written in dialect, which was published also. Then came the prize poem, "Mad Anthony's Charge," above referred to. He has composed two stories since, one of which, "Ben's Christmas Present," has been accepted by the New York _World_ and is to appear with a sketch of this young writer, in their Christmas number. At twelve years, he wrote a monody on "The Burial of Brian Boru," which is given below.

The literary efforts of Easton, so far, have been spontaneous and spasmodic, but contain certain promise for the future. After studying for some time at the Morristown Academy, Easton went as a student to the Bordentown Military Inst.i.tute from which he has graduated and has now pa.s.sed on to Princeton College. At Bordentown he won golden opinions, and gave the prize essay at the June Commencement. This was an oration of considerable importance on "The Value of Sacrifice," but withal his gifts are essentially poetic.

THE BURIAL OF BRIAN BORU.

Slowly around the new-made grave Gathers the mourner throng; Women and children, chieftains brave, Numb'ring their hundreds strong.

Glitter beneath the sun's bright ray Helmet and axe and spear; Sadness and sorrow reign to-day, Dark is the land and drear!

Yesterday leading his men to fight, Now lies he beneath their feet, Clad in his armor, strong and bright, 'Tis his only winding sheet.

Close to his grave stand his warriors grim, Bravest and best of his reign; They, who through danger have oft followed him, Mourn the wild "Scourge of the Dane."

Look! from the throng with martial stride Steps an old chief of his clan, Pauses and halts at the deep grave's side, Halts as but warriors can.

White is the hair beneath his cap, Withered the hand he holds on high; Standing, beside the open gap, Speaks he without a pause or sigh.

"_Brian Boru_ the brave!

_Brian Boru_ the bold!

Lay we thee in thy grave; Deep is it, dark and cold.

Bravest of ev'ry chief Erin has ever known; Hurling the foes in grief, Fiercest of Danes o'erthrown.

Youth and old age alike Found thee in war array; Wielding the sword and pike, E'er in the thick o' the fray!

Erin is freed and blest, Freed by thy mighty arm; Well hast thou earned thy rest, Take it! secure from harm.

Friend of our hearts! Our king!

Generous, kind and true!

Out let our praises fling-- Shout we for _Brian Boru_."

Bursts the wild song from a thousand throats, Sounding through wood and plain, While the mountains echo the dying notes, Ringing them out again.

Francis Bret Harte.

As a poet, we represent Bret Harte by his "Plain Language from Truthful James," better known as "The Heathen Chinee." The main reference to his writings follows, in the next cla.s.sification of _Novelists and Story Writers_.

PLAIN LANGUAGE FROM TRUTHFUL JAMES,

BETTER KNOWN AS "THE HEATHEN CHINEE."

TABLE MOUNTAIN, 1870.

Which I wish to remark,-- And my language is plain,-- That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar.

Which the same I would rise to explain.

Ah Sin was his name; And I shall not deny In regard to the same What that name might imply, But his smile it was pensive and child-like, As I frequent remarked to Bill Nye.

It was August the third; And quite soft was the skies; Which it might be inferred That Ah Sin was likewise; Yet he played it that day upon William And me in a way I despise.

Which we had a small game, And Ah Sin took a hand: It was Euchre. The same He did not understand; But he smiled as he sat by the table, With the smile that was child-like and bland.

Yet the cards they were stocked In a way that I grieve, And my feelings were shocked At the state of Nye's sleeve: Which was stuffed full of aces and bowers, And the same with intent to deceive.

But the hands that were played By that heathen Chinee, And the points that he made, Were quite frightful to see,-- Till at last he put down a right bower, Which the same Nye had dealt unto me.

Then I looked up at Nye, And he gazed upon me; And he rose with a sigh, And said, "Can this be?

We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor,"-- And he went for that heathen Chinee.

In the scene that ensued I did not take a hand, But the floor it was strewed Like the leaves on the strand With the cards that Ah Sin had been hiding, In the game "he did not understand."

In his sleeves, which were long, He had twenty-four packs,-- Which was coming it strong, Yet I state but the facts; And we found on his nails, which were taper, What is frequent in tapers--that's wax.

Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar,-- Which the same I am free to maintain.

Mrs. M. Virginia Donaghe McClurg.

Mrs. McClurg, the niece of our honored townsman, Mr. Wm. L. King, is better known to us by her maiden name of M. Virginia Donaghe. Although endowed with varied gifts, having been editor, newspaper correspondent, story-writer, biographer and local historian, her talent is essentially poetic, therefore we place her among our poets.

A proud moment of Mrs. McClurg's life was, when a child, she received four dollars and a half from _Hearth and Home_ for a story called "How did it Happen," written in the garret, the author tells us, without the knowledge of any one. Next, were written occasional letters and verses and short stories for the New York _Graphic_, including some burlesque correspondence for a number of papers, one of which was the _Richmond State_. The writer then went to Colorado for her health and accepted the position of editor on the _Daily Republic_ of Colorado Springs, for three years. She wrote a political leader for the paper every day. It happened that many distinguished men died during those years, and she did in consequence biographical work. She also wrote book reviews, dramatic and musical reviews, condensed the state news every day from all the papers of the state and edited the a.s.sociated Press dispatches. In addition, all proofs were brought to her for final reading. For the first year she had private pupils and broke down with brain fever.

In 1885, she went into the Indian country to explore the cliff-dwellings of Mancos Canon, in the reservation of the Southern Utes. They were only known through meagre accounts in the official government reports, and Miss Donaghe was the first woman who ever visited them, so far as known. On this occasion, she had an escort of United States troops and spent a few days there. She however made a second visit, fully provided for a month's trip, the result of which was a series of archaeological sketches contributed to a prominent paper, the _Great Divide_, under the t.i.tle of "Cliff-Climbing in Colorado." These ten papers gave to Miss Donaghe a reputation in the west as an archaeologist.

The following year she published, in the _Century_, one of the best of her sonnets, "The Questioner of the Sphinx," afterwards contained in her book, "Seven Sonnets of Sculpture."

The same year she published her first book, "Picturesque Colorado," also a popular sonnet called "The Mountain of the Holy Cross." The Colorado mountain of the Holy Cross has crevices filled with snow which represent always on its side a cross. The little sand lily of Colorado blossoms at the edges of the highways in the dust, in the Spring, and looks like our star of Bethlehem. Of these sand lilies an artist friend made a picture which harmonized with the sonnet referred to. These were published together as an Easter card and a large edition sold. The sonnet begins;

"In long forgotten Springs, where He who taught Amid the olive groves of Syrian hills,"--

And ends:

"The lilies bloom upon the prairie wide A stainless cross is reared by nature's hand, And plain and height alike keep Easter-tide."

In 1887, the _Century_ published a "Sonnet on Helen Hunt's Grave," with a picture of the grave. About this time Miss Donaghe was writing a series of letters which were published in a Southern newspaper, _The Valley Virginian_, and were widely copied. These were on Utah, when the Mormon hierarchy was in its power. Then appeared a book on "Picturesque Utah,"

making one of a group with "Picturesque Colorado" and "Colorado Favorites." The last is made up of six poems on Colorado flowers, ill.u.s.trated by water colors of the blossoms, by Alice Stewart, and was the first book published.

The author was married to Mr. Gilbert McClurg of Chicago, one of the family of the publishing house of that name, in Morristown, on June 13th, 1889.

Since then Mrs. McClurg has been both editor and newspaper correspondent, and, within the last two years, a valuable a.s.sistant to her husband in the preparation of his department of the official history of Colorado, which included several county histories.