July 21, 1916. 
NORTH SHORE BREEZE and Reader 
Poets and Poems of the North Shore 
HELENE SHERMAN 
HE beauty of the North Shore, whether the blue waters 
are flashing in the bright summer sun or whether the 
Storm King rides imperiously upon the roaring waves, 
is always an inspiration and seems to have been so to 
many of the poets. History and romance and flights into 
the realms of fancy are whispered softly to us with the 
rhythm and swing of the undulating tides. Can there 
be a fairer scene than the shining sands and dancing water 
with the white sails “round the rocks of Marblehead?” 
From Nahant to Rockport the awakening echoes bring 
to memory some of the verses of our best beloved poets. 
Richard Henry Dana, dwelling in peace and solitude 
in his summer home at Manchester, often held communion 
with the muse. In “The Little Beach-Bird” we get a 
delightful picture of the poet strolling on the sand of 
Graves’ Beach listening to the song of the sea, as it 
seemed to call his feathered friend to flight: 
“Thou little bird, thou dweller by the sea, 
Why takest thou its melancholy voice? 
And with that boding cry 
O’er the waves dost thou fly? 
O! rather, bird, with me 
Through the fair land rejoice.” 
Mr. Dana was born in Cambridge on November 15, 
1787, and died in Boston, February 2, 1879. He was the 
first to establish a summer home at Manchester, now so 
beloved as a summer playground, and each succeeding 
generation of Danas has always found enjoyment and 
pleasure around the beautiful home of their celebrated 
ancestor. Mr. Dana was an invalid until fifty years of 
age and did not publish his first poem until he was thirty- 
eight years old. In 1827 his first book of poems ap- 
peared and was well received by the critics. Richard 
Henry Dana is said to have been one of the most power- 
ful and poetical composers of American literature, and 
we proudly honor his name among those who sang their 
sweet songs along the rocky shores of Cape Ann. 
Beverly became the scene of an interesting event in 
1826, for in that year of grace Lucy Larcom, poet and 
teacher, first saw the light of day. Many of her poems 
deal with the humble fisherfolk and “Hannah Binding 
Shoes’ is one of her best. It is full of pathos of the 
lives of fishermen and those who love them. She began 
to write when only seven years of age and while still a 
very young girl, some of her work attracted the attention 
of John G. Whittier, who at that time was conducting 
his Free Soil paper in Lowell. Mr. Whittier freely en- 
couraged Miss Larcom and some of her finest poems 
were those written under the influence of the greater 
poet and were of patriotic sentiment of the Civil War days. 
In 1880 she published ‘Wild Roses of Cape Ann.” Dur- 
ing Miss Larcom’s literary career, she was editor of Our 
Young Folks, and published a complete collection of her 
poems in 1884. Hers was the rare nature that uplifts 
the commonplace and she found human love and heart 
interest among the sordid scenes of her early life, for 
Lucy Larcom knew what it meant to suffer; and her 
sympathetic interpretation of the sorrows of the humble 
people she had known is born of her love and knowledge 
of them. The sight of the fishing vessel returning from 
Newfoundland, with its flag at half-mast, was familar 
to her, for hardly ever, even in these more modern days, 
do the boats come back to port without the loss of some 
of the crew. Many a brave sailor boy, setting out for 
the Grand Banks, proudly but unsuspectingly, waves a 
last farewell to dear ones on the shore. When the vessel 
returns, the signal of mourning is shown. Friends of 
the crew, from the captain down to the poorest hand, 
gather to hear read the names of those lost at sea and 
never found. 
. Among Lucy Larcom’s poems of the sea, the follow- 
ing 1s one of the best and will be most enjoyed by lovers 
of the North Shore, because of its familiar setting: 
Tue LIGHTHOUSES 
(BAKER'S ISLAND, OFF BEVERLY, MASS.) 
wo pale sisters, all alone, 
On an tsland bleak and bare, 
Listening to the breakers’ moan, 
Shivering in the chilly air; 
Looking inland towards the hill, 
On whose top one aged tree 
Wrestles with the storm wind’s will, 
Rushing wrathful from the sea. 
Two dim ghosts at dusk they seem, 
Side by side, so white and tall, 
Sending one long, hopeless gleam 
Down the horizon’s darkened wall; 
Specters, strayed from plank or spar, 
WVith a tale none lives to tell, 
Gazing at the town afar, 
Where unconscious widows dwell. 
Two white angels of the sea, 
Guiding wave-worn wanderers home! 
Sentinels of hope are ye, 
Drenched with sleet, and dashed with foam, 
Standing there in loneliness, 
Fireside joys for men to keep; 
Through the mid-night slumberless 
That the quiet shore may sleep. 
Some of the most beautiful poems of this region 
were written by America’s favorite poet, Henry Wads- 
worth Longfellow. Mr. Longfellew was born in Port- 
land, Maine, in February, 1807. He was named for his 
mother’s brother, who, a youth of nineteen, but lately 
commissioned a lieutenant in the United States Navy and 
serving before Tripoli under Commodore Preble, perished 
in the fireship “Intrepid,” which was blown up on the 
night of September 4, 1804. Happy boyhood days, spent 
in the sweet environments of Portland, “the beautiful town 
that is seated by the sea,” and to which his thoughts 
turned so often in later days, influenced his whole life. 
Young manhood found him a student among the classic 
eroves of old Brunswick. After graduating, he filled 
the chair of modern languages, both at Bowdoin and, 
later, at Harvard. During these early years, poems ap- 
peared often. It was after Mr. Longfellow took up his 
residence in Cambridge that he established a summer home 
at Nahant. “The beauty and mystery” always held en- 
chantment and inspiration for the great man. The bells 
of Lynn were heard at sunset at Nahant, as he watched 
the summer day pass into memory. Longfellow knew 
and loved the Shore. “The Fire of Driftwcod” is the 
poet’s dream. Longfellow travelled rather much for those 
days, but he always paid tribute to his native land. When 
