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Four American poets

Chapter 51: HOLMES
By Sherwin Cody
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About This Book

Aimed at young readers, this compact collection presents four readable biographical sketches of notable poets, following childhood influences, schooling, early experiments in verse, and the circumstances behind key works. Each section pairs narrative anecdotes with explanations of themes such as nature, moral conviction, and public engagement, and includes episodes about professional life, honors, and later years. Organized into short chapters that highlight formative scenes, poetic methods, and memorable incidents, the book uses plain language and illustrative detail to make poetic craft and imagery accessible while encouraging appreciation of differing temperaments and literary approaches.

HOLMES

CHAPTER I
THE TRUE HUMORIST

Oliver Wendell Holmes was the humorist among American poets, always with a smile around his mouth and a twinkle in his eye, and a kindly little half-hidden joke in everything he had to say. He was a humorist of the genuine good-humored sort, the “genial Autocrat,” the kindly and obliging friend (for did he not write a poem on every possible occasion at the request of all sorts of people?) How kind, how pathetic, yet how amusing, are the sweet, quaint lines of “The Last Leaf”:

My grandmamma has said—
Poor old lady, she is dead
Long ago—
That he had a Roman nose,
And his cheek was like a rose
In the snow;
But now his nose is thin,
And it rests upon his chin
Like a staff;
And a crook is in his back,
And a melancholy crack
In his laugh.
I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
At him here;
But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
Are so queer!
And if I should live to be
The last leaf upon the tree
In the spring,
Let them smile, as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
Where I cling.

Dear Doctor Holmes! He did indeed live to be the last leaf upon the tree; but to the very end he went scattering his humorous and good-humored words among his friends wherever he was, making people happier as well as wiser, more light-hearted as well as more thoughtful, until they turned from crying to laughing. “The Last Leaf” is a little sad, notwithstanding its lightness and fun. But there is no sadness in this, the funniest poem that Holmes ever wrote:

THE HEIGHT OF THE RIDICULOUS

I wrote some lines once on a time
In wondrous merry mood,
And thought, as usual, men would say
They were exceeding good.
They were so queer, so very queer,
I laughed as I would die;
Albeit in the general way,
A sober man am I.
I called my servant, and he came;
How kind, it was of him
To mind a slender man like me,
He of the mighty limb!
“These to the printer,” I exclaimed,
And, in my humorous way,
I added (as a trifling jest),
“There’ll be the devil to pay.”
He took the paper, and I watched,
And saw him peep within;
At the first line he read, his face
Was all upon the grin.
He read the next, the grin grew broad,
And shot from ear to ear;
He read the third, a chuckling noise
I now began to hear.
The fourth, he broke into a roar;
The fifth, his waistband split;
The sixth, he burst five buttons off,
And tumbled in a fit.
Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye,
I watched that wretched man;
And since, I never dare to write
As funny as I can.