Popular Poetry from the Past

 Post (C) Doris McCraw

aka Angela Raines

Image (C) Doris McCraw

April is National Poetry Month. In honor of this, it seemed appropriate to share some of the more popular poems from the 1800s. 

Christina Rossetti is a favorite of mine. Here is her poem 'Echo'

Echo

Come to me in the silence of the night;

   Come in the speaking silence of a dream;

Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright

   As sunlight on a stream;

      Come back in tears,

O memory, hope, love of finished years.

Oh dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet,

   Whose wakening should have been in Paradise,

Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet;

   Where thirsting longing eyes

      Watch the slow door

That opening, letting in, lets out no more.

Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live

   My very life again tho’ cold in death:

Come back to me in dreams, that I may give

   Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:

      Speak low, lean low,

As long ago, my love, how long ago.

 

Of course, you can't talk about 1800s poetry without mentioning Emily Dickinson. Here is her poem: 'Sometimes with the Heart'

Sometimes with the Heart

Seldom with the Soul

Scarcer once with the Might

Few - love at all.

Anytime you speak about poets of the 1800s, you usually include Tennyson. Here is a poem some of you may recognize:

Lullaby - Poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Sweet and low, sweet and low,

         Wind of the western sea,

Low, low, breathe and blow,

         Wind of the western sea!

Over the rolling waters go,

Come from the dying moon, and blow,

         Blow him again to me;

While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,

         Father will come to thee soon;

Rest, rest, on mother's breast,

         Father will come to thee soon;

Father will come to his babe in the nest,

Silver sails all out of the west

         Under the silver moon:

Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.

Image (C) Doris McCraw

I will leave you with a favorite of mine from Helen Hunt Jackson:

Last Words

Dear hearts, whose love has been so sweet to know,
That I am looking backward as I go,
Am lingering while I haste, and in this rain
Of tears of joy am mingling tears of pain;
Do not adorn with costly shrub, or tree,
Or flower, the little grave which shelters me.
Let the wild wind-sown seeds grow up unharmed,
And back and forth all summer, unalarmed,
Let all the tiny, busy creatures creep;
Let the sweet grass its last year's tangles keep;
And when, remembering me, you come some day
And stand there, speak no praise, but only say,
" How she loved us'! 'Twas that which made her dear! "
Those are the words that I shall joy to hear.

Here's to the beauty of poetry. When you get a moment, stop by and read some of the other poets who were creating pictures and emotions with words. Poetry was enjoyed by many, and you might be surprised by who was writing and what they wrote about.

Until next time.

Doris Gardner-McCraw

Author, Speaker, Historian

Specializing in Colorado and Women's History

Did you know?

 Post (C) by Doris McCraw

aka Angela Raines

Photo taken on a cog ride to the
summit of Pikes Peak

Did you know April is National Poetry Month? Did you also know it's National Card & Letter Writing Month? 

Before the Internet, we wrote letters and sent cards.  We wrote in journals/diaries. In honor of this special month, I thought I'd share a piece I wrote for a local publication as a letter from Katharine Lee Bates. Yes, I did costume performances as this amazing lady.

 Dear Friends,

I realize we have never met, but in truth we are adventurers together. It is in that spirit that I am sharing with you some advice I garnered from my time in Colorado Springs at the base of Pikes Peak.

You will want to have a plan, but at the same time, be open to spontaneous options, for exciting adventures await those make the journey. You also will want to stay hydrated. The area is high plains desert and as such the air is dry. Drinking, especially water is highly advised.

During the six weeks I was in Colorado Springs, teaching two courses at the Colorado Springs Summer School, I was busy with lesson plans and grading papers. Those duties were just a portion of the experiences that awaited.

You can start or end with The Garden of the Gods, This is a place where one can enjoy the beauty no matter what the time of day. Each hour brings another vista of changing color and grandeur. If planned, one can also take time to picnic, and hike the trails that wind their way through the area.

The waterfalls of South Cheyenne Canyon, called Seven Falls, are a sight to behold. One does not need to be athletic to stand at the base of those falls, but to climb the stairs to the top does take physical effort. They offer another option of viewing the top of the falls from a vantage point that is less strenuous to access.

The above options fall into the planned category. You may ask, how can one be spontaneous with so many options available that you plan? The answer is simple, you take advantage of unique opportunities that happen unexpectedly.

My friends and I planned a trip to the top of Pikes Peak, but the day we set aside for the trip, the Cog Railway was not running. Instead of giving up, we took the road. As they say, it was a trip to remember. It was from the top of the mountain that the first stanza of my poem ‘America’ came to fruition.

The residents in this town have many smaller and fun events they plan throughout the year. One never knows what may be found when you search out events you may have overlooked. Fairs, dances, music and more await those who will take the time to seek them out.

If time had permitted I would have enjoyed journeying further into the mountains and down to the Royal Gorge of the Arkansas River.

So many wonderful options await. Choose the ones that call to your heart and soul, and take the adventure of a lifetime. Carry the memories fondly throughout your life. I know I did.

So, dear friends, I leave you with a poem and heartfelt wishes that my tips will help you enjoy your adventurous journey.

Mountains soar

Over Native lore

Under turquoise skies

Breezes sigh

Red spires rise

Where dinosaurs lie

Creeks and rivers sing

As laughter rings

Warmly,

Katharine Lee Bates

For anyone so inclined, you can sign up for my newsletter. It's free (for now): Thoughts and Tips on History

As Always,

Stay Safe, Stay Healthy, 

Doris

What a Day

Post by Doris McCraw

writing as Angela Raines

Photo Property of the Author

April is National Poetry Month and April 12th is also: 

• Big Wind Day 
• D.E.A.R. Day (Drop Everything And Read) 

So how can you celebrate three different and seemingly unique ideas/days? First, let's take a look at what each is about.

National Poetry Month is probably one of my favorite concepts. I love poetry and always have. There is something intriguing, musical, and challenging about this art form. 

Big wind day is celebrated on April 12 of each year. It stems from April 12, 1934, when the Mount Washington Observatory recorded winds at 231 miles per hour. This high wind record stood until 1996 when a typhoon off the coast of Australia clocked winds at 256 miles per hour over a small island. I may enjoy a stiff breeze now and then, but...

After National Poetry Month, D.E.A.R. makes so much sense to me. The day was set up to encourage families to spend time with their children and read. I would say it is a good idea for everyone. I've always enjoyed reading, not just for research, but just for fun. If I'm stuck at a spot in my writing, and can't get outside, or even if I can, stopping and just reading a book for fun can reset my brain. It's amazing how much easier the words flow after taking that break.

After the last two years, it is good to be back at the stories that were set aside. The lives of those people have taken on a new luster. I look forward to offering them to the world.

Photo Property of the Author

For now, I leave you with a haiku.

Seasons by Doris McCraw

Wind blowing through trees

Raindrops watering the earth

Seasons always change

How about you? Do you love poetry, wind, or just sitting and reading? So on those windy days, grab a poetry book, novel, or magazine and sit back and enjoy. In case you can't find something to read, you might check out the offerings on my Amazon page. Angela Raines - Amazon

Until next time...

Doris

SPRING, THE WEST AND POETRY

 Post by Doris McCraw

writing as Angela Raines

Here it is April already. So much going on and yet very little at the same time. I do confess, April is a favorite month of mine. There is the harbinger of Spring and it's National Poetry Month. 

As work has been extremely busy and I'm a bit tired. I thought I would share some of my poetry, in Haiku form, with you. 

Defining Western
Journeying toward an end
Sunset of our lives

Traveling westward
Moving ahead of the sun
Toward all things new

Early pathfinder

Paved way for all who followed

Seeding a new growth

Men riding horses
Women and children also
Mythology tales

Mountain barriers
Endless prairie and hardship
Overcoming all

(c) Doris McCraw

In as brief a form as possible, I tried to convey what the West and what it means to me as an author and reader. As I write my short stories and novels I think of what it took to move to a new area, put down roots and hold onto what you hoped to build. 

In my short story, 'Duty' in the anthology "Hot Western Nights", my heroine Miranda deals with just that issue. Here is a short excerpt:

    Miranda Foster climbed the hill overlooking the ranch her stepfather had left her to run for his heirs. Clouds flew across the sky. Standing on the hilltop, she watched a storm building, its track headed toward the ranch house. She didn't begrudge her duty, but by the time her step-brother Byron was old enough to take over, she'd be an old maid.

    No one knew she wasn't the owner. It was her step-father's way of keeping the ranch safe. She remembered their conversation. "I know I'm asking a lot of you, but you'll be taken care of."

    Miranda thought back on that conversation as she caught movement near the leading edge of the storm. Watching, she saw five specks detach and draw closer. The wind was pushing her back the way she'd come, trying to guide her to safety.

    Miranda would not be moved. "You may threaten, cajole, or do me harm, but I will not be swayed from my duty," Miranda sent back to the wind as she waited for the oncoming riders, shotgun in hand. She never left the ranch house without it since the coming of Tate Browning. She stood, a calm determination not to give in.

Amazon

Wishing everyone a lovely Spring and the rest of the year. 

Doris Gardner-McCraw -

Author, Speaker, Historian-specializing in
Colorado and Women's History

Angela Raines - author: Telling Stories Where Love & History Meet

Books: Angela Raines Books

Post (c) Doris McCraw