Henry Timrod Poems
- Baby's Age She came with April blooms and showers; We count ...
- A Mother Gazes Upon Her Daught... Is she not lovely! Oh! ...
- An Exotic Not in a climate near the sun Did the cloud with ...
- A Cry To Arms Ho! woodsmen of the mountain side! Ho! ...
- A Rhapsody Of A Southern Winte... Oh! dost thou flatter ...
- Retirement My gentle friend! I hold no creed so false As ...
- Youth And Manhood Another year! a short one, if it flow Like...
Henry Timrod was an American poet, often called the poet laureate of the Confederacy.
Timrod was born on December 8, 1828, in Charleston, South Carolina, to a family of German descent. His grandfather Heinrich Dimroth emigrated to the United States in 1765 and Anglicized his name. His father was an officer in the Seminole Wars and a poet himself. The elder Timrod died on July 28, 1838, at the age of 44; his son was nine. A few years later, their home burned down, leaving the family impoverished.
Timrod studied at the University of Georgia beginning in 1847 with the help of a financial benefactor. He was soon forced by illness to end his formal ... more »
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She came with April blooms and showers;
We count her little life by flowers.
As buds the rose upon her cheek,
We choose a flower for every week.
A week of hyacinths, we say,
And one of heart's-ease, ushered May;
And then because two wishes met
Upon the rose and violet --
I liked the Beauty, Kate, the Nun --
The violet and the rose count one.
A week the apple marked with white;
A week the lily scored in light;
Red poppies closed May's happy moon,
And tulips this blue week in June.
Here end as yet the flowery links;
To-day begins the week of ...