William Gilmore Simms
Simms was born in Charleston, S.C., and lived much of his life in or near it.
The embodiment of southern letters, Simms was also an influential spokesman for what he saw as the region's social and political concerns. A unionist in the 1832 nullification controversy, in the 1840s he supported the intensely nationalistic Young America group, which pushed for American freedom from British literary models. Active in politics, he served in the South Carolina Legislature from 1844 to 1846, conferred with prominent planters like James Henry Hammond about southern agricultural policies, conducted a copious correspondence with fire-eating Beverley Tucker of Virginia about slavery and ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
William Gilmore Simms Poems
Blessings On Children
Blessings on the blessing children, sweetest gifts of Heaven to earth, Filling all the heart with gladness, filling all the house with mirth; Bringing with them native sweetness, pictures of the primal bloom, Which the bliss for ever gladdens, of the region whence they come;
The Lost Pleiad
NOT in the sky, Where it was seen So long in eminence of light serene,— Nor on the white tops of the glistering wave,
The Decay Of A People
THIS the true sign of ruin to a race— It undertakes no march, and day by day Drowses in camp, or, with the laggard’s pace, Walks sentry o’er possessions that decay;
I. Our city by the sea, As the rebel city known, With a soul and spirit free
The Angel Of The Church
I. Aye, strike with sacrilegious aim The temple of the living God; Hurl iron bolt and seething flame
I Do ye quail but to hear, Carolinians, The first foot-tramp of Tyranny's minions? Have ye buckled on armor, and brandished the spear,
Sumter In Ruins
I. Ye batter down the lion's den, But yet the lordly beast g'oes free; And ye shall hear his roar again,
Ode--Shell the Old City! Shell!
I. Shell the old city I shell! Ye myrmidons of Hell; Ye serve your master well,
Flight To Nature
SICK of the crowd, the toil, the strife, Sweet Nature, how I turn to thee, Seeking for renovated life, By brawling brook and shady tree!
The Swamp Fox
WE follow where the Swamp Fox guides, His friends and merry men are we; And when the troop of Tarleton rides, We burrow in the cypress tree.
Song In March
NOW are the winds about us in their glee, Tossing the slender tree; Whirling the sands about his furious car, March cometh from afar;
Where dwells the spirit of the Bard--what sky Persuades his daring wing,-- Folded in soft carnation, or in snow Still sleeping, far o'er summits of the cloud,
Oh! from the deeds well done, the blood well shed In a good cause springs up to crown the land With ever-during verdure, memory fed,
Hast Thou A Song For A Flower.
HAST thou a song for a flower, Such as, if breathed in its ear, Would waken in beauty's own bower
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Blessings On Children
Blessings on the blessing children, sweetest gifts of Heaven to earth,
Filling all the heart with gladness, filling all the house with mirth;
Bringing with them native sweetness, pictures of the primal bloom,
Which the bliss for ever gladdens, of the region whence they come;
Bringing with them joyous impulse of a state with outen care,
And a buoyant faith in being, which makes all in nature fair;
Not a doubt to dim the distance, not a grief to vex thee, nigh,
And a hope that in existence finds each hour a luxury;
Going singing, bounding, brightening--never fearing as ...