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    The Coast of Bohemia
    The Coast of Bohemia
    The Coast of Bohemia
    Ebook140 pages58 minutes

    The Coast of Bohemia

    By Thomas Nelson Page

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 26, 2013
    The Coast of Bohemia
    Author

    Thomas Nelson Page

    Thomas Nelson Page was an American writer and lawyer, as well as the U.S. Ambassador to Italy during the presidency of Woodrow Wilson. Despite his family’s wealthy lineage—both the Nelson and Page families were First Families of Virginia—Page was raised largely in poverty. Based on his own experiences living on a plantation in the Antebellum South, Page’s writing helped popularize the plantation-tradition genre, which depicted an idealized version of slavery and presented emancipation as a sign of moral decline in society. Page’s best-known works include the short story collections The Burial of the Guns and In Ole Virginia, the latter of which contains the influential story “Marse Chan.” Thomas Nelson Page died in 1922.

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      Conventonmal verse, one on Francis Drake and the Spanish-American War; amother symbolically suggests US alliance with ritainvs. Russia and Japan? (the Tig811 P 132er?)

    Book preview

    The Coast of Bohemia - Thomas Nelson Page

    The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Coast of Bohemia, by Thomas Nelson Page

    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

    almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

    re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

    with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

    Title: The Coast of Bohemia

    Author: Thomas Nelson Page

    Release Date: October 1, 2010 [EBook #34015]

    Language: English

    *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COAST OF BOHEMIA ***

    Produced by Al Haines

    THE COAST OF BOHEMIA

    BY

    THOMAS NELSON PAGE

    NEW YORK

    CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

    1906

    Copyright, 1888, 1906, by

    CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

    THE DE VINNE PRESS

    PREFACE

    One who after writing prose all his life suddenly essays to launch a volume of verse, must know something of the feeling with which an old-time sailor after coasting only his native shores found himself setting sail into an unknown sea.

    The author of this little volume knows quite as well as the most experienced mariner the temerity of sailing an untried main in so frail a bark. But he is willing, if the Fates so decree, to go down with the unnumbered sail of that great fleet which have throughout the ages faced the wide ocean of oblivion, merely for the thrill of being for a brief space on its vast waters.

    Since Horace, secure in the double endowment of genius and of an Emperor's favor, wrote scornfully how hated of gods and men was middling verse, no one has ever doubted the fact—perhaps, not even one of all the myriads who have dared to brave that bitter scorn. The explanation then for the production of so much of the despised matter must be that there is for the minor poet also a music that the outer world does not catch—an inner day which the outer world does not see. It is this music, this light which, for the most part, is for the lesser poet his only reward. That he has heard, however brokenly, and at however vast a distance, snatches of those strains which thrilled the souls of Marlowe and Milton and Keats and Shelley, even though he may never reproduce one of them, is moreover a sufficiently high reward.

    T. N. P.

    *** Most of the poems in the following pages, with the exception of those in dialect, are now published for the first time.

    CONTENTS

    POEMS

    DEDICATION

    THE COAST OF BOHEMIA

    THE VOICE OF THE SEA

    LONG ROLL AT NAPOLEON'S TOMB

    THE PRINCESS' PROGRESS

    YOUTH

    AMERICA: GREETING

    DAWN

    THE POET ON AGRADINA

    THE SHEPHERD OF THE SEAS

    SLEEP

    TO A LADY AT A SPRING

    UNFORGOTTEN

    THE OLD LION

    THE DRAGON OF THE SEAS

    THE BENT MONK

    THE MESSAGE

    THE NEEDLE'S EYE

    THE CLOSED DOOR

    CONVENTION

    THE MAGDALEN

    THE REQUIREMENT

    THE LISTENER

    CONTRADICTION

    THE QUESTION

    OUR DEAD

    MY MOTHER

    HER INFLUENCE

    MATTHEW ARNOLD

    THE STRANGER

    LOVE

    AN OLD REFRAIN

    TO CLAUDIA

    THE APPLE-TREES AT EVEN

    MY TRUE-LOVE'S WEALTH

    A VALENTINE

    A PORTRAIT

    FÉLICE

    LOVE SONG

    THE HARBOUR LIGHT

    FADED SPRAY OF MIGNONETTE

    LOST ROSES

    DE NAME OF OLE VIRGINIA

    THE DANCER

    THE APRIL-FACE

    COME BACK TO US, DAVIE

    THE WITCH

    HUMANITY

    ASPIRATION

    REALITY

    LITTLE DOLLY DIMPLE

    A VALENTINE

    DIALECT POEMS (FROM BEFO' DE WAR)

    UNCLE GABE'S WHITE FOLKS

    LITTLE JACK

    ASHCAKE

    ZEKYL'S INFIDELITY

    MARSE PHIL

    ONE MOURNER

    THE COAST OF BOHEMIA

    .... "Few, few are they:

    Perchance, among a thousand, one

    Thou shouldest find, for whom the sun

    Of Poesy makes an inner day."

    — The Medea of Euripides—Way's Translation.

    DEDICATION

    TO F. L. P.

    As one who wanders in a lonely land,

    Through all the blackness of a stormy night,

    Now stumbling here, now falling there outright,

    And doubts if it be worse to stir or stand,

    Not knowing what abysses yawn at hand,

    What torrents roar beyond some beetling height;

    Yet scales the top to find the dawn in sight,

    And Earth kissed into radiance with its wand:

    So, wandering hopeless in the darkness, I,

    Scarce recking whither led my painful way,

    Or whether I should faint or strive to prove

    If 'yond the mountain-top some path might lie,

    Climbed boldly up the steep, and lo! the Day

    Broke into pearl and splendor in thy love.

    THE COAST OF BOHEMIA

    There is a land not charted on all charts;

    Though many mariners have touched its coast,

    Who far adventuring in those distant parts,

    Meet ship-wreck there and are forever lost;

    Or if they e'er return, are soon once more

    Borne far away by hunger for that magic shore.

    Its mystic mountains on the horizon piled,

    Some mariners have glimpsed when driven far

    Out of life's measured course by tempests wild,

    Or lured therefrom by the erratic star

    They chose as pilot, till their errant guide

    Drew them resistlessly within its witching tide.

    For oft, they tell, who know its sapphire strand

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