Individual estimates of William Ward's poems will, therefore, vary according to the tastes and training of the reader. But it can hardly be doubted that they will appeal strongly to a majority of the lovers of true poetry. If imagery be preferred, it is conspicuous throughout his verse; if emotion be specially sought for, it too in almost every type pulsates in these poems; if music be the criterion, in that also they will not be found wanting, for the melody and harmony of most of them is a striking characteristic. That they might be judged on their own merits, and not so much on the opinion of one who might be deemed more advocate than critic, fuller selections by way of illustration have been offered than would have been the case, if the poems could readily be found. They were published mostly in the Philadelphia American Courier, the Macon Beacon, and the New Orleans Times-Democrat, and have not been collected in book form, as it is earnestly hoped they yet will be. Better known, it is confidently believed that they will place their author high on the roll of Southern poets.
As a summary and a conclusion, the following Report of the Committee on Necrology to the Press Convention of Mississippi in 1888 is here appended:
"One of the oldest members of this association, who had not an enemy on earth, the urbane, genial and ever agreeable William Ward is with us no more. Those of us who knew and loved him for his big heart and true manly worth, will sadly miss his gentle footfalls, cheerful face, and warm hand-clasp as we meet in our annual conventions. The voice of him who sang songs of love, devotion, and duty, is as silent as the marble shaft that marks his resting place.
"Born in a New England village up among the hills of old Connecticut in 1823, Mr. Ward came South when a youth of tender years, to seek a home in the land of sunshine and flowers, fit prototypes of his own sunny self. A poet by nature and a writer of purest English, he gave to the press some of the sweetest poetic gems that have graced the literature of the South; and his poems addressed to or read before our press conventions were always regarded as the chief features of an entertainment. With them he was wont 'to set the table in a roar,' or draw tears from the eyes of the most obdurate. He wrote his name high on the scroll of fame, and through all the vicissitudes of life, from the days of his early manhood when struggling to support a growing family to the evening of his declining years when surrounded by the comforts of life, that name remains as pure as a star, as unsullied as the snowflakes falling in mid-heaven. In all the relations of life, William Ward was ever a true and honorable man, loving and beloved by all who came within the circle of his acquaintance.
"Let the recollections of this New England youth who cast his lot with the South, and who lies buried in its soil ever remain fresh and green in our heart of hearts; and now let us pluck a flower from the chaplet of memory, and tenderly lay it upon his hallowed grave."
[SHERWOOD BONNER—HER LIFE AND PLACE IN THE LITERATURE OF THE SOUTH.]
BY ALEXANDER L. BONDURANT, A. M. (HARVARD)
The life of Sherwood Bonner illustrates the union of the subtle elements, ancestral traits and personal qualities, which, distilled by the alchemist, Dame Nature, in her alembic produce the individual.