When a glorious pine, to him a living soul, falls under the axe he
hears "the wail of Dryads in their last distress."

In the greenery of his loved and loving pines, with memories happy,
though touched to tender sadness by the sorrows that had come to the
old-time group of friends, blessed with the companionship of the two
loving souls who were dearest to him of all the world, he sang the
melodies of his heart till a cold hand swept across the strings of his
wonderful harp and chilled them to silence.

In his last year of earth he was invited to deliver at Vanderbilt
University a series of lectures on poetry and literature. Before the
invitation reached him he had "fallen into that perfect peace that
waits for all."




"THE FLAME-BORN POET"

HENRY TIMROD


A writer on Southern poets heads his article on one of the most gifted
of our children of song, "Henry Timrod, the Unfortunate Singer."

At first glance the title may seem appropriate. Viewed by the standard
set up by the world, there was little of the wine of success in
Timrod's cup of life. Bitter drafts of the waters of Marah were served