Sherry Chandler » Sarah Tittle Barrett Bolton
Sarah Tittle Barrett Bolton
William S. Ward mentions three poets in antebellum Kentucky who made their reputations on a single poem. The first was O’Hara, already featured, for his poem “Bivuoac of the Dead.” The second was Mary E. W. Betts. I have not been able to locate a copy of her magnum opus, “A Kentuckian Bows to No One But God.” That may be just as well. The third is Sarah T. Bolton. The vessel of her fame is entitled “Paddle Your Own Canoe.”
I’m not sure how Kentucky gets to claim Sarah Bolton. True, she was born in Newport, but her family moved to a “frontier farm” near Vernon, Indiana when she was still a child. [With all those names, by the way, it came as a surprise to me to learn that her parents were named Belcher.] Ward says she “kept her friendships alive” in Newport and Campbell County, so perhaps she was more a friend to Kentuckians.
She was quite intrepid in Indiana, apparently. She began publishing poems in the Madison paper at thirteen, later married the editor and ran a substantial diary farm near Indianapolis, all the while writing and publishing poetry. She became the “unofficial poet laureate” of Indiana in the mid-19th century and has a city parked named after her in Beech Grove. She was also a bit of a feminist (and it’s about time we found one among all these men.)
Paddle Your Own Canoe
Voyager upon life’s sea,
To yourself be true,
And where’er your lot may be
Paddle your own canoe.
Never, though the winds may rave,
Falter nor look back;
But upon the darkest wave
Leave a shinning track.
Nobly dare the wildest storm,
Stem the hardest gale;
Brave of heart and strong of arm,
You will never fail.
When the world is cold and dark,
Keep an aim in view,
And toward the beacon mark
Paddle your own canoe.
Every wave that bears you on
To the silent shore,
From its sunny source has gone
To return no more.
Then let not an hour’s delay
Cheat you of your due;
But, while it is called today,
Paddle your own canoe.
If your birth denied you wealth,
loftly state and power;
Honest fame and hardy health
Are a better dower.
But if these will not suffice,
Golden gain pursue;
And, to win the glittering prize,
Paddle your own canoe.
Would you wrest the wreath of fame
From the hand of fate?
Would you write a deathless name
With the good and the great?
Would you bless your fellow-men?
Heart and soul inbue
With the holy task, and then
Paddle your own canoe.
Would you crush the tyrant wrong,
In the world’s free fight?
With a spirit brave and strong,
Battle for the right;
And to break the chains that bind
The many to the few,
To enfranchise slavish mind–
Paddle your own canoe,
Nothing great is lightly won;
Nothing won is lost;
Every good deed is nobly done,
Will repay the cost.
Leave to Heaven, in humble trust,
All you will do;
But if you succeed, you must
Paddle your own canoe.
by Sarah T. Bolton, written in 1851.
More Sarah Bolton poetry at the link.
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