Yon yellow sun melts in the sea;
A somber ship sweeps silently
Past Alcatraz tow'rd Orient skies--
A mist is rising to the eyes--
Good-by, Bret Harte, good night, good night!
Yon sea-bank booms far funeral guns!
What secrets of His central suns,
Companion of the peak and pine,
What secrets of the spheres are thine?
Good-by, Bret Harte, good night, good night!
You loved the lowly, laughed at pride,
We mocked, we mocked and pierced your side;
And yet for all harsh scoffings heard
You answered not one unkind word,
But went your way, as now: Good night!
How stately tall your ship, how vast,
With night nailed to your leaning mast,
With mighty stars of hammered gold
And moon-wrought cordage manifold!
Good-by, Bret Harte, good night, good night!
"THE LITTLE CHURCH 'ROUND THE CORNER."
In Twenty-Ninth Street, New York, and only a few paces distant from Fifth
Avenue, stands a low, rambling, picturesque brown structure that has the
appearance of a modest chapel to which various additions have been built
from time to time. Between this building and the street is a well-shaded
lawn, and there is scarcely a day in the year on which the twittering of
birds among the boughs of the big trees does not attract the attention of
passers-by. There is a sort of rural atmosphere about the quaint church
and its yard that seems so singularly out of place in the heart of a big
city that strangers invariably glance curiously at the board on which are
inscribed the hours of service and the name "Church of the
Transfiguration."
To most strangers this means nothing more than the name of any other
church. But were some friend to add, "It is also known as the 'Little
Church 'Round the Corner,'" a new light would dawn on the stranger's mind,
and he would know that he was standing before one of the most celebrated
church edifices in the United States--a church supported largely by
members of the theatrical profession--a church that has been famous for
many romantic wedding ceremonies, and from which hundreds of dead actors
and actresses have been borne to the grave.
The manner in which this church came by the name by which it is now
popularly known is as follows:
In 1870 the veteran actor, George Holland, died in New York, and Mrs.
Holland's sister desired the funeral to be held at her own church--a
fashionable place of worship in Fifth Avenue. Joseph Jefferson, as an old
friend of the family, went to the minister with one of Holland's young
sons. Mr. Jefferson told the rector that his friend was an actor, and the
rector replied that under the circumstances he should have to decline
holding the services at the church.
The boy was in tears. Mr. Jefferson was too indignant to say a word, but
as he and the boy left the room he asked if there was any other church
from which his friend might be buried. The rector replied that there was a
little church around the corner where it might be done.
Mr. Jefferson said: "Then if this be so, God bless 'the little church
around the corner.'"
And it was in "The Little Church 'Round the Corner" that the ceremony was
performed by the Rev. George H. Houghton, its rector, who, beloved by all
members of the theatrical profession, continued in this pulpit until his
death in 1897, when he was succeeded by his son.
The author of the following lines was a New York playwright who won
popularity a generation ago.