Or lived and sung, that Life and Song Might each express the other's all, Careless if life or art were long Since both were one, to stand or fall:

So that the wonder struck the crowd, Who shouted it about the land: 'His song was only living aloud, His work, a singing with his hand!'

____ 1868.

Notes: Life and Song

'Life and Song' is the fifth of a series of seven poems published under the general heading of 'Street-cries', with the two stanzas following as an introduction:

"Oft seems the Time a market-town Where many merchant-spirits meet Who up and down and up and down Cry out along the street

"Their needs, as wares; one THUS, one SO: Till all the ways are full of sound: -- But still come rain, and sun, and snow, And still the world goes round."

The remaining numbers of the series are: 1. 'Remonstrance', given in this volume; 2. 'The Ship of Earth'; 3. 'How Love Looked for h.e.l.l'; 4. 'Tyranny'; 6. 'To Richard Wagner'; 7. 'A Song of Love'.

I can think of no more helpful comment on the subject of our poem than this sentence from Milton's 'Apology for Smectymnuus', already alluded to in the 'Introduction' (p. liv [Part VI]): "And long it was not after, when I was confirmed in this opinion, that he who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable things, ought himself to be a true poem; that is, a composition and pattern of the best and honorablest things; not presuming to sing high praises of heroic men or famous cities, unless he have in himself the experience and the practice of all that which is praiseworthy."

Lines 19-20. I have been pleased to discover that the application I have made of this poem, especially of these lines (see 'Introduction', p. liv [Part VI]), is likewise made by most students of Lanier's life, and that Mrs. Lanier has chosen these two lines for inscription on the monument to be erected to his memory.

On the reverse side of the stone, I may add, are to be put these words: "He that dwelleth in love dwelleth in G.o.d" (I John iv. 16).

Jones's Private Argyment

That air same Jones, which lived in Jones, [1]

He had this pint about him: He'd swear with a hundred sighs and groans, That farmers MUST stop gittin' loans, And git along without 'em:

That bankers, warehous.e.m.e.n, and sich Was fatt'nin' on the planter, And Tennessy was rotten-rich A-raisin' meat and corn, all which Draw'd money to Atlanta:

And the only thing (says Jones) to do [11]

Is, eat no meat that's boughten: BUT TEAR UP EVERY I, O, U, AND PLANT ALL CORN AND SWEAR FOR TRUE TO QUIT A-RAISIN' COTTON!

Thus spouted Jones (whar folks could hear, -- At Court and other gatherin's), And thus kep' spoutin' many a year, Proclaimin' loudly far and near Sich fiddlesticks and blatherin's.

But, one all-fired sweatin' day, [21]

It happened I was hoein'

My lower corn-field, which it lay 'Longside the road that runs my way Whar I can see what's goin'.

And a'ter twelve o'clock had come I felt a kinder f.a.ggin', And laid myself un'neath a plum To let my dinner settle sum, When 'long come Jones's waggin,

And Jones was settin' in it, SO: [31]

A-readin' of a paper.

His mules was goin' powerful slow, Fur he had tied the lines onto The staple of the sc.r.a.per.

The mules they stopped about a rod From me, and went to feedin'

'Longside the road, upon the sod, But Jones (which he had tuck a tod) Not knowin', kept a-readin'.

And presently says he: "Hit's true; [41]

That Clisby's head is level.

Thar's one thing farmers all must do, To keep themselves from goin' tew Bankruptcy and the devil!

"More corn! more corn! MUST plant less ground, And MUSTN'T eat what's boughten!

Next year they'll do it: reasonin's sound: (And, cotton will fetch 'bout a dollar a pound), THARFORE, I'LL plant ALL cotton!"

____ Macon, Ga., 1870.

Notes: Jones's Private Argyment

The themes of this poem, the relative claims of corn and cotton upon the attention of the farmer and the disastrous results of speculation, are treated indirectly in 'Thar's More in the Man Than Thar Is in the Land', and directly and with consummate art in 'Corn'.

1. "That air same Jones" appears in 'Thar's More', etc., written in 1869, in which we are told:

"And he lived pretty much by gittin' of loans, And his mules was nuthin' but skin and bones, And his hogs was flat as his corn-bread pones, And he had 'bout a thousand acres o' land."

He sells his farm to Brown at a dollar and fifty cents an acre and goes to Texas. Brown improves the farm, and, after five years, is sitting down to a big dinner when Jones is discovered standing out by the fence, without wagon or mules, "fur he had left Texas afoot and c.u.m to Georgy to see if he couldn't git some employment."

Brown invites Jones in to dinner, but cannot refrain from the inference-drawing that names the poem. -- "Which lived in Jones,"

"which Jones is a county of red hills and stones" ('Thar's More', etc.) in central Georgia.

13. Readers of 'David Copperfield' will recall Micawber's frequent use of 'I-O-U-'s'.

47. "Clisby's head" refers to Mr. Joseph Clisby, then editor of the Macon (Ga.) 'Telegraph and Messenger', who had written editorials favoring the planting of more corn.

Corn

To-day the woods are trembling through and through [1]

With shimmering forms, that flash before my view, Then melt in green as dawn-stars melt in blue.

The leaves that wave against my cheek caress Like women's hands; the embracing boughs express A subtlety of mighty tenderness; The copse-depths into little noises start, That sound anon like beatings of a heart, Anon like talk 'twixt lips not far apart.

The beech dreams balm, as a dreamer hums a song; Through that vague wafture, expirations strong [11]

Throb from young hickories breathing deep and long With stress and urgence bold of prisoned spring And ecstasy of burgeoning.

Now, since the dew-plashed road of morn is dry, Forth venture odors of more quality And heavenlier giving. Like Jove's locks awry, Long muscadines Rich-wreathe the s.p.a.cious foreheads of great pines, And breathe ambrosial pa.s.sion from their vines.

I pray with mosses, ferns, and flowers shy [21]

That hide like gentle nuns from human eye To lift adoring perfumes to the sky.

I hear faint bridal-sighs of brown and green Dying to silent hints of kisses keen As far lights fringe into a pleasant sheen.

I start at fragmentary whispers, blown From undertalks of leafy souls unknown, Vague purports sweet, of inarticulate tone.