[1856 L LETITIA H. WRENSHALL IZETTE WOODWORTH REESE was born in that part of Baltimore County which is now within the city limits of Baltimore and known as Waverly. She still lives in this locality, her pretty cottage immediately facing Lake Montebello, a small but beautiful sheet of water. Her poetic gift may be traced as an inheritance from the pure Welsh blood of her father's family, whose origin is evidenced by the surnames of Davis, Morgan, Woodworth, and Reese; while from her German mother she has received the enduring powers of application and tenacity of purpose, which are among her strongest characteristics. Miss Reese commenced teaching at an early age, and is at this time, as for some years past, teacher of English in the Western High School of Baltimore. Though closely occupied with her professional duties, she finds time to take an active part in others of a semi-public nature, notably those of "The Teachers' Literary Club"; reading for the benefit of associations in whose advancement she is interested; and the work of "The Woman's Literary Club of Baltimore," an organization strictly confined to the purpose indicated by its name. One of the founders, in 1891, she has remained closely identified with it, is a director in its board of management, chairman of the Committee on Poetry, and is a frequent contributor to the programs of the Committee on Fiction. She is also one of the two chairmen of the Memorial Committee, which on All Souls' Day, November the second, decorates the graves of the authors and artists in the cemeteries of Baltimore. The autumn flowers of her garden are treasured for weeks before the day, in order that her tribute may be personal; and in storm and sunshine alike she places the laurel wreaths and blooms with her never idle hands. Miss Reese's first poem, "The Deserted Home," was published in the Southern Magazine, in 1874, when she was a young girl. Some years passed before she again appeared in print; since this she has become widely known, and her prose and poetry alike are quickly accepted by the leading publications of the United States. Among the magazines in which her writings have been published during the last twenty years are The Atlantic Monthly, Scribner's, Harper's Monthly, The Smart Set, etc., etc. Her short stories have been well received and have attracted much attention. As delineations of human passion and pain, half smothered yet struggling with hard conditions of life, held fast in fate, they are powerfully written, with unusual perception and analysis of the contrarieties of the spiritual self. The extreme simplicity and directness of style compel vivid realization of her word-painting, as in "Old Miss Rich," in The Outlook of February, 1898; "Cornelia's Birthday," in Harper's Monthly of June, 1903; "Lavender," in Lippincott's, in 1904, and "Henrietty," in the same magazine, in 1905. Justice demands reference to much writing, bright and breezy, of keen yet gentle wit (not bearing Miss Reese's signature), contributed to the editorial departments of well-known publications. It is, though, with Miss Reese's poetry that the first and paramount interest must remain. All written prior to 1896 has been collected in three volumes; the first, 'A Branch of May,' was published in 1887 by Cushing and Company of Baltimore. The edition was soon exhausted, but the poems were included in her second book, ‘A Handful of Lavender,' which is dedicated "To the Sweet Memory of Sidney Lanier." This was issued by the Riverside Press in 1891, and is now likewise out of print. The third book, 'A Quiet Road,' was issued in 1896. A number of the poems in these volumes have been selected by Edmund Clarence Stedman for his 'American Anthology.' From the first two come "Anne," "Lydia," "The Daffodils," "Thomas à Kempis," and "Immortality." From 'A Quiet Road' come "Telling the Bees," "In Time of Grief," "To a Town Poet," "Trust," "A Holiday," "Keats," and "Reserve." This noted author and critic writes as follows: "Miss Reese's poetry is of rare quality, artistic, natural, beautiful with the old-time atmosphere and association, and at times rising to a noble classicism, of which the lines 'To a Town Poet' afford a fine example." Mr. Stedman also pronounces "Immortality" a classic. These lines, with "Tell Me Some Way," "Daffodils," "A Colonial Picture," "Tears" (a sonnet published in Scribner's of 1899), and other poems have been frequently reprinted, finding their way to the public through many channels. Abroad, as at home, Miss Reese has won recognition. The London Spectator has accorded her high praise, placing her in the front rank of American poets. In the East she has been read and appreciated, as witnessed by a recent request from Japan for permission and material to make her writings the subject of lectures before the University of Tokyo; the lecturer is a Japanese writer who has published two or three books of poems, and is a contributor to American magazines. It has been said that thoughts come either in color or in sound, but Miss Reese thinks in form; sculpture appeals to her with greater She strength than painting, hence the crystal clearness of her verse. works slowly and polishes much, and every word is chosen and placed in her mind before pen is put to paper. While close acquaintance with the Elizabethan literature has undoubtedly influenced, though not molded, the careful expression of her beautiful thoughts, it would be impossible for one so original and possessing her strong personality to write in any but her own way. She sings her own song, clear, sweet, and true, with the passing of time ever circling in higher flights. She writes of what she sees, seeing with the eyes of the poet. Her strong sense of the beauty of nature is manifest. The bare trees of winter, the living green of summer, the blossoming orchards, the wind through the grass, alike call to her for speech, and she gives the message truly. Many of her poems may be recognized as descriptive of scenes in and around Baltimore, as "An Old Belle," "The Seller of Herbs"; and visitors to Druid Hill Park will read with delight of that which they have there seen, when on some hillside, silhouetted against the sunset, slowly passes the "Shepherd" and his sheep. Yet as truly as she interprets nature's voice, this is not the limit of her powers. The eyes of the poet see deep into the human heart, and she reads, as few can, its longing in life and in death. This dramatic quality has grown with her growth and strengthened with her strength, as evidenced by her later poems. Time's sunlight is still overhead with Miss Reese; inspiration and courage are strong and fresh in her unflagging nature; her zenith is yet before her. Letitia #Wrenshalt ANNE From 'A Branch of May.' Copyright, Houghton, Mifflin and Company, and used here by permission of the author and the publishers. Her eyes be like the violets, Ablow in Sudbury Lane; When she doth smile her face is sweet With grief I think of my gray hairs, In comes she through the dark old door And she doth bring the tender wind Our parson stands up straight and tall, Most stiff and still the good folk sit But if our God be such a God, Why did He make her then so fair, A flickering light, the sun creeps in, I look across to that old pew, And have both praise and prayer. Oh, violets in Sudbury Lane, Amid the grasses green, This maid who stirs ye with her feet Is far more fair I ween! I wonder how my forty years Look by her sweet sixteen! INSPIRATION All selections from 'A Quiet Road' are copyrighted by Houghton, Mifflin and Company, and used here by permission of the author and the publishers. Upon the hills I left my sheep; With staff and scrip a watch to keep; I ran down to the river-reeds; The rude East smote me where I stood; Fog wrapped me in a winding-sheet; I blew a note so echoing sweet The kine came from the pastures chill; By tavern-sides the folk sat still; Ere yet the dark was at its close, |