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About this poet

James Russell Lowell was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, on February 22, 1819, the son of the Reverend Charles Lowell and Harriet Spence. He attended William Wells School and Harvard University, where he graduated with a degree in law. However, Lowell had no interest in pursuing a career in that field. Shortly after graduating from Harvard, in 1841, he published his first collection of poems, A Year’s Life (C. C. Little and J. Brown), inspired by the poet Maria White, whom he would marry three years later.

An ardent abolitionist, Lowell published widely in many anti-slavery newspapers, such as the Pennsylvania Freeman and the Anti-Slavery Standard. He also published a number of literary essays, political pamphlets, and satirical works, such as The Biglow Papers, a series of satirical verses written in opposition to the Mexican War.

Lowell authored multiple poetry books, including the collections Poems: Second Series (B. B. Mussey and Co., 1848) and Poems (John Owen, 1844), as well as the popular book-length poems A Fable for Critics: A Glance at a Few of Our Literary Progenies (Putnam, 1848) and The Vision of Sir Launfal (George Nichols, 1848). Along with Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and John Greenleaf Whittier, Lowell belongs to the group of writers called the Fireside Poets, or “schoolroom” poets, known for their conservative, traditional forms; strict attention to rhyme and meter; and moral, religious, and political themes. Lowell’s works, particularly the Arthurian tale The Vision of Sir Launfal, were frequently used as school texts.

In 1853, Lowell’s wife and three of their four children fell ill and died. Two years later, he returned to Harvard to replace Longfellow as professor of modern languages and literature. He spent the following year traveling and studying in Europe, then returned to Harvard to teach for the next twenty years.

In 1857 he married Frances Dunlap and became editor of the Atlantic Monthly, a position he held for about five years. Then, for the next ten years, he served as editor of the North American Review.

Known for his politics and personal charm, Lowell was appointed to the position of United States Minister to Spain in 1877, then served as United States Minister to England from 1880 to 1885.

When Dunlap died in 1885, Lowell withdrew from public life. He continued to publish books of poetry and prose until his death on August 12, 1891.


Selected Bibliography

Poetry

Heartease and Rue (Houghton, Mifflin and Co., 1888)
Early Poems (John B. Alden, 1887)
Three Memorial Poems (James R. Osgood, 1877)
The Cathedral (Fields, Osgood, and Co., 1870)
Under the Willows and Other Poems (Fields, Osgood, and Co., 1869)
The Biglow Papers, Second Series (Ticknor and Fields, 1867)
The Vision of Sir Launfal (George Nichols, 1848)
Poems: Second Series (George Nichols, 1848)
A Fable for Critics: A Glance at a Few of Our Literary Progenies (Putnam, 1848)
The Biglow Papers, First Series (George Nichols, 1848)
Poems (John Owen, 1844)
A Year’s Life, and Other Poems (Little and Brown, 1841)

The First Snowfall

James Russell Lowell, 1819 - 1891

The snow had begun in the gloaming,
   And busily all the night
Had been heaping field and highway
   With a silence deep and white.
   
Every pine and fir and hemlock
   Wore ermine too dear for an earl,
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree
   Was ridged inch deep with pearl.

From sheds new-roofed with Carrara
   Came Chanticleer's muffled crow,
The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down,
   And still fluttered down the snow.

I stood and watched by the window
   The noiseless work of the sky,
And the sudden flurries of snow-birds,
   Like brown leaves whirling by.

I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn
   Where a little headstone stood;
How the flakes were folding it gently,
   As did robins the babes in the wood.
   
Up spoke our own little Mabel,
   Saying, "Father, who makes it snow?"
And I told of the good All-father
   Who cares for us here below.
   
Again I looked at the snow-fall,
   And thought of the leaden sky
That arched o'er our first great sorrow,
   When that mound was heaped so high.
   
I remembered the gradual patience
   That fell from that cloud-like snow,
Flake by flake, healing and hiding
   The scar of our deep-plunged woe.
   
And again to the child I whispered,
   "The snow that husheth all,
Darling, the merciful Father
   Alone can make it fall!"
   
Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her;
   And she, kissing back, could not know
That my kiss was given to her sister,
   Folded close under deepening snow.

This poem is in the public domain.

This poem is in the public domain.

James Russell Lowell

James Russell Lowell

James Russell Lowell was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, on February 22, 1819, the son of the Reverend Charles Lowell and Harriet Spence. He attended William Wells School and Harvard University, where he graduated with a degree in law. However, Lowell had no interest in pursuing a career in that field. Shortly after graduating from Harvard, in 1841, he published his first collection of poems, A Year’s Life (C. C. Little and J. Brown), inspired by the poet Maria White, whom he would marry three years later.

by this poet

poem
May is a pious fraud of the almanac,
A ghastly parody of real Spring
Shaped out of snow and breathed with eastern wind;
Or if, o'er-confident, she trust the date,
And, with her handful of anemones,
Herself as shivery, steal into the sun,
The season need but turn his hourglass round,
And Winter suddenly, like
poem
When a deed is done for Freedom, through the broad earth's aching breast	 
Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east to west,	 
And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the soul within him climb	 
To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sublime	 
Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the thorny
poem
And what is so rare as a day in June?
     Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune,
     And over it softly her warm ear lays:
Whether we look, or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten;
Every clod feels a stir of might,
     An instinct within it that