116 LOCAL AND NATIONAL POETS OF AMERICA. ALEXANDER J. FARROW. BORN: ORANGEBURG, KY., JAN. 3, 1843. THE poems of Mr. Farrow have appeared quite extensively in the local press. He was married in 1865 to Sarah C. Ramsay, and now ALEXANDER JAMES FARROW. resides on a farm in Putnam county, Ind. After graduating at a college in Missouri, Mr. Farrow taught school for some time in the city of St. Joseph and other places. WOMAN. Heavenly muse! my mind inspire, But vain it was from him to part: All would be drear, but thou art here. The placid lake, the silver stream, Where wandering poets love to dream; The shady dell, the winding vale Where fragrance sweet the flowers exhale; A mother's love, how deep! how true! LOCAL AND NATIONAL POETS OF AMERICA. MRS. JESSIE W. MANNING. BORN: MOUNT PLEASANT, IOWA, OCT. 26, 1855. JESSIE made verses in her childhood; was fairly studious as a little girl; and music was a passion with her. Graduating in 1874, she became enthusiastic in science and literature. She made up her mind to adopt the lecture platform as a profession, and lectured throughout the western states on literary subjects and on temperance for five years, when she was married to Mr. Eli Manning, a MRS. JESSIE W. MANNING. merchant of Chariton. Mrs. Manning never regretted her abandonment of the platform, content in the seclusion of home with husband and children. She has written a long poem entitled The Passion of Life, which has earned her favorable notice. Mrs. Manning writes critical essays and reviews for the press. She also has another long poem completed, which will soon be published. TO THE SPIRIT OF YOUTH. Whence comes this pain that through thy fair life quivers ? Joy sits at thy right hand; Carest thou that bitter wind rare blossoms shivers ? See what a glory falls Through the moon's fairy walls; 117 Now shows the pageant fair of the world's splendor: Ah! not thy fairest dream Rarer than this could seem Life looking futureward, smiles sweet and tender. Why then, thy sad regret? Why art thou weeping yet? Why waiting desolate, gladness untasted? Hush now thy sobbing sigh Else might the sweetness of thy fate be wasted. Nay! nay! the secret comes Which all the burden seems Of the world's woe and tears, counted and singled. This the sad lesson taught This, with its dreams fraught, Life's joy is bitter sweet, foul and fair mingled. THE GLAMOUR OF YOUTH. What is so fair, so fair In all this world of care So fair as youth? Youth with its rhyme and chime, Faith in grand things sublime, Hope for great deeds in time, Ah, how the golden haze Walk into dance. Nature's sweet grace is wrought Not yet has caution chilled -- Youth's heart of flame; ELLA A. GILES. BORN IN WISCONSIN, FEB. 2, 1851. MISS GILES has already written and published several works, including Bachelor Ben, Out From the Shadows, and Maiden Rachel. Her poems and sketches have appeared in the leading periodicals, and have been widely ELLA A. GILES. copied by the western local press. Miss Giles is rather tall, slender, and a decided brunette. She now resides in Madison, Wisconsin, with her father, engaged in housekeeping and literary work. DEFEAT. I know thee not! Alas for those To whom thou canst thy form disclose. BEGONE SUSPENSE. Thou wretched, haggard, tottering dame! When thou'rt away no more will lag OH, YE BEAUTEOUS HILLS OF Oh, ye beauteous hills of Frankfort, 44 In the hush of Arnold's wold," One to whom ye oft have told Fraught with radiant joy's deep thrills; Till your strength is the world's gain; FORGIVENESS. Forgiveness is the fragrance, rare and sweet, That flowers yield when trampled on by feet That reckless tread the tender, teeming earth; For blossoms crushed and bleeding yet give birth To pardon's perfume; from the stern decrees Of unforgiveness, Nature ever flees. LOCAL AND NATIONAL POETS OF AMERICA. HJALMER H. BOYESEN. BORN IN NORWAY, SEPT. 23, 1848. IN 1868 Mr. Boyesen came to America, and the following year he became editor of the Fremad, a Scandinavian paper published in Chicago. He has since been professor of German in Cornell and Columbia universities. The contributions of this author to the periodicals of the day soon attracted attention, and he became popular as a story-teller in prose and verse. He is one of the founders of the Author's club in New York City. Many of his books and short stories have been translated into German, Norwegian, and at least one of them into Russian. EGIL SCALD'S LAMENT. Strangely, son, thou starest; And thy sight is sunken; Still thou art and silent, As with slumber drunken: Lo, thy lips are livid; Loud erewhile their laughter! Shall I vainly listen For thy voice hereafter? Dumb thou art, and dampness In dark drops descending For thy brow is breaking, With thy bright beard blending. Foam-flakes fleck thy forehead; Fixed thine eyes and frigid; And thy mighty frame is Faint with frost and rigid. Swift spreads slumber's shadow! Woe! my witless wailing Never more will wake thee! Dead thou art, my darling; Long the night before thee. Thou hast left thy father Lonely to deplore thee. Bodvar! best beloved! Of bold sons the boldest! In thy helpless hand my Life's snapped thread thou holdest. Swordless Death has sought thee Mid the sea-weeds swelling; Fain thy father follows Thee to Hela's dwelling. For thy birth's bright hour Blessings bloomed around thee: Fast about my heart-roots Wound, each fresh year found thee; On thy brave young boy-face Oft I stood in spirit, By strong sons surrounded; Whose sonorous saga Through my soul resounded; Saw their fearless phalanx Fame and fortune gather,Safe within their shield burgh I, their happy father! Saw them swords unsheathing; Heard their armors' rattle; Saw them storming, shouting With the joy of battle: Bodvar foremost fighting, Fair and fierce and glorious, And his falchion flashing In his path victorious. 119 IF THE ROSE COULD SPEAK. I plucked the flower and held it to my ear, |