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Poet & Poetess Biographies Master Poets & Poetesses have bestowed upon us their poetic hues, graceful talents and prolific writings. You will find their biographies and sample writings here.

Phillis Wheatley (Very First Published African-American Poet 1753 - 1784)
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Phillis Wheatley (Very First Published African-American Poet 1753 - 1784)
Published by MsJacquiiC
04-29-2008
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Phillis Wheatley (Very First Published African-American Poet 1753 - 1784)

Phillis Wheatley (1753-1784)


Phillis Wheatley was the first African-American to publish poetry; Some say she is America's first Black Poet. Born around 1753 in what is the modern day Senegal, Wheatley was kidnapped and taken to America in 1761 aboard a slave ship called "Phillis". She was raised Christian and offered an exceptional education by the family that owned her. In fact she was actually tutored by the Wheatley’s son, Nathaniel, in English, Latin, history, geography, religion, and the Bible.

Wheatley's poetry overwhelmingly revolves around Christian themes, with many poems dedicated to famous personalities. In 1768, Wheatley wrote "To the King's Most Excellent Majesty," in which she praised George III for repealing the Stamp Act. However, as the American Revolution gained strength, Wheatley turned to writing about themes from the point of view of the colonists. Her poem “To the Right Honorable William, Earl of Dartmouth” compares her enslaved state with that of the colonies under Britain’s rule, denouncing both.


Phillis Wheatley statue on Commonwealth Ave. in Boston as part of the Boston Women's Memorial. Her pose is derived from the only existant image of her. CLICK HERE for full size photo.
Because many white people of the time found it hard to believe that a black woman could be so intelligent as to write poetry, in 1772 Wheatley had to defend her literary ability in court. She was examined by a group of Boston luminaries including John Erving, John Hancock and Thomas Hutchinson, the governor of Massachusetts, amongst others. They concluded that she had in fact written the poems ascribed to her and signed an attestation which was published in the preface to her book Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral published in Aldgate, London in 1773. The book was published in London because publishers in Boston had refused to publish the text.

Though she rarely mentions her own situation in her poems -- one of the few which refers to slavery is "On being brought from Africa to America -- Phillis’ popularity as a poet both in the United States and England ultimately brought her freedom from slavery on October 18, 1773.

Through her poetry, Wheatley is credited with helping found African American literature. She died in poverty at the age of 31.




 On Virtue
By Phillis Wheatley
O thou bright jewel in my aim I strive
To comprehend thee. Thine own words declare
Wisdom is higher than a fool can reach.
I cease to wonder, and no more attempt
Thine height t’explore, or fathom thy profound.
But, O my soul, sink not into despair,
Virtue is near thee, and with gentle hand
Would now embrace thee, hovers o’er thine head.
Fain would the heaven-born soul with her converse,
Then seek, then court her for her promised bliss.

Auspicious queen, thine heavenly pinions spread,
And lead celestial Chastity along;
Lo! now her sacred retinue descends,
Arrayed in glory from the orbs above.
Attend me, Virtue, thro’ my youthful years!
O leave me not to the false joys of time!
But guide my steps to endless life and bliss.
Greatness, or Goodness, say what I shall call thee,
To give an higher appellation still,
Teach me a better strain, a nobler lay,
O Thou, enthroned with Cherubs in the realms of day!



 On being brought from Africa to America :: (the poem text includes some brief roll-over study notes)
By Phillis Wheatley
'Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benightedsoul to understand
That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
"Their colour is a diabolic die."
Remember, Christians, Negros, black as Cain,
May be refin'd and join th'angelic train.



Special thanks to Poems of Phillis Wheatley for the brief study points. 'Tis a wonderful site to gain a more personal insight on the meaning of Wheatley's poetry and to learn more about this great Pioneer of Poesy!



 An Hymn to the Morning
By Phillis Wheatley
ATTEND my lays, ye ever honour'd nine,
Assist my labours, and my strains refine;
In smoothest numbers pour the notes along,
For bright Aurora now demands my song.

     Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies,
Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies:
The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays,
On ev'ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays;
Harmonious lays the feather'd race resume,
Dart the bright eye, and shake the painted plume.

     Ye shady groves, your verdant gloom display
To shield your poet from the burning day:
Calliope awake the sacred lyre,
While thy fair sisters fan the pleasing fire:
The bow'rs, the gales, the variegated skies
In all their pleasures in my bosom rise.

     See in the east th' illustrious king of day!
His rising radiance drives the shades away --
But Oh! I feel his fervid beams too strong,
And scarce begun, concludes th' abortive song.



 An Hymn to the Morning
By Phillis Wheatley
SOON as the sun forsook the eastern main
The pealing thunder shook the heav'nly plain;
Majestic grandeur! From the zephyr's wing,
Exhales the incense of the blooming spring.
Soft purl the streams, the birds renew their notes,
And through the air their mingled music floats.

     Through all the heav'ns what beauteous dies are spread!
But the west glories in the deepest red:
So may our breasts with ev'ry virtue glow,
The living temples of our God below!

     Fill'd with the praise of him who gives the light,
And draws the sable curtains of the night,
Let placid slumbers sooth each weary mind,
At morn to wake more heav'nly, more refin'd;
So shall the labours of the day begin
More pure, more guarded from the snares of sin.

     Night's leaden sceptre seals my drowsy eyes,
Then cease, my song, till fair Aurora rise.



 To the Right Honourable William, Earl of Dartmouth
By Phillis Wheatley
To The Right Honourable William, Earl of Dartmouth, His
Majesty’s Principal Secretary of State for North-America, Etc.

HAIL, happy day, when, smiling like the morn,
Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn:
The northern clime beneath her genial ray,
Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway:
Elate with hope her race no longer mourns,
Each soul expands, each grateful bosom burns,
While in thine hand with pleasure we behold
The silken reins, and Freedom’s charms unfold.

Long lost to realms beneath the northern skies
She shines supreme, while hated faction dies:
Soon as appear’d the Goddess long desir’d,
Sick at the view, she lanquish’d and expir’d;
Thus from the splendors of the morning light
The owl in sadness seeks the caves of night.

No more, America, in mournful strain
Of wrongs, and grievance unredress’d complain,
No longer shalt thou dread the iron chain,
Which wanton Tyranny with lawless hand
Had made, and with it meant t’ enslave the land.

Should you, my lord, while you peruse my song,
Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung,
Whence flow these wishes for the common good,
By feeling hearts alone best understood,
I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate
Was snatch’d from Afric’s fancy’d happy seat:
What pangs excruciating must molest,
What sorrows labour in my parent’s breast?
Steel’d was that soul and by no misery mov’d
That from a father seiz’d his babe belov’d:
Such, such my case. And can I then but pray
Others may never feel tyrannic sway?

For favours past, great Sir, our thanks are due,
And thee we ask thy favors to renew,
Since in thy pow’r, as in thy will before,
To sooth the griefs, which thou did’st once deplore.
May heav’nly race the sacred sanction give
To all thy worts, and thou for ever live
Not only on the wings of fleeting Fame,
Though praise immortal crowns the patriot’s name,
But to conduct to heav’ns refulgent fane,
May fiery coursers sweep th’ ethereal plain,
And bear thee upwards to that blest abode,
Where, like the prophet, thou shalt find thy God.



  #1  
Old 04-29-2008, 08:36 AM
MsJacquiiC's Avatar
JPiC Creator: Poetica Magnifique
 
Quote:
Should you, my lord, while you peruse my song,
Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung,
Whence flow these wishes for the common good,
By feeling hearts alone best understood,
I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate
Was snatch’d from Afric’s fancy’d happy seat:
What pangs excruciating must molest,
What sorrows labour in my parent’s breast?
Steel’d was that soul and by no misery mov’d
That from a father seiz’d his babe belov’d:
Such, such my case. And can I then but pray
Others may never feel tyrannic sway?

Tribute.

swift to flick, Her tongue that tall-tales no swift lie.
swift and quick and honest and praise be to the truth,
that in mid-flick thou shalt know thy common fatalities
once happy (now melancholy) are those which soothe
to no end, to know the common end and our own God.

Kismet & Destiny - I have found my Poetess Hero.

Happy National Poetry Month!
Reply With Quote
  #2  
Old 05-03-2008, 08:11 AM
PaintedDiary's Avatar
JPiC Senior Moderator Extraordinaire
 
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Quote:
Originally Posted by MsJacquiiC View Post
Tribute.

swift to flick, Her tongue that tall-tales no swift lie.
swift and quick and honest and praise be to the truth,
that in mid-flick thou shalt know thy common fatalities
once happy (now melancholy) are those which soothe
to no end, to know the common end and our own God.

Kismet & Destiny - I have found my Poetess Hero.

Happy National Poetry Month!
Dear Ms Jacquii,

The tribute you scribed is an outstanding tribute to one of the "giants' shoulders we stand on". Ms Wheatley was indeed an icon in laying the foundation for African-American poetry. Her perception, depth, and range are unmatched in that time of peril. Strength and her faith were top amongst many muses. Her work is phenomenal and I also loved the poetry Jupiter Hammond tributed to her as well. I can only imagine the literary works she would have created if she had not died so young. We studied her in college and it is an honor to read her here and have in our database of elite poets and poetesses. Tis allot of work to research, post and scribe a tribute....Thank you for posting these bios Ms Jacquii.

Kim
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