Authors and Writers Associated with Morristown. Julia Keese Colles
a few years later, a stirring drama, a tragedy in blank verse, entitled "Bianco Cappello." This tragedy is founded upon Italian history and was written during her residence abroad in 1873. While abroad, Mrs. Kinney's letters to The Newark Daily Advertiser gave her a wide reputation and were largely re-copied in London and Edinburgh journals from copies in the New York papers.
Among the "Poems," the one "To an Italian Beggar Boy" is perhaps most highly spoken of and has been chosen by Mr. Stedman to represent his mother in the "Library of American Literature." A favorite also is the "Ode to the Sea." Both pieces are strong and dramatic. The poem on "The Flowers" has been translated into three languages. It opens:
"Where'er earth's soil is by the feet
Of unseen angels trod,
The joyous flowers spring up to greet
These messengers of God."
Mrs. Kinney's sonnets are peculiarly good. Her sonnet on "Moonlight in Italy," which we give to represent her, was written at ten o'clock at night in Italy by moonlight, and has been much praised. Mr. Kingston James, the English translator of Tasso, repeated it once at a dinner table, as a sample of "in what consisted a true sonnet."
MOONLIGHT IN ITALY.
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 entitled "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 Institute from which he has graduated and has now passed 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 classification 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.