Grace Denio Litchfield (1849-1944)
Litchfield was born in Brooklyn, NY, but spent much of her time in Europe. She returned to this country in 1888, and lived in Washington, D.C. for many years. She died in Goshen, NY. Litchfield was a prolific writer of novels and poetry. After her first piece was published in 1882, her work could be read in a wide variety of magazines, including Harpers, The Century and The Atlantic Monthly.
Her Collected Poems (1913), contains several beautiful poems ranging from poignant to optimistic. For instance, her short poem, “The Setting Sun,” provides a tight image that expands our perception of an everyday occurrence:
“The Setting Sun”
One radiant outflash of surprising splendor,
And with the perfect peace of self-surrender,
Without a tear,
Without a fear,
Like some high spirit summoned from our sight,
The sun steps down into the unknown night.
And, in the same collection, “To the Cicada Septendecim,” offers the Cicada’s perspective:
“To the Cicada Septendecim”
"Buried at moment of thy birth
Beneath the earth;
Hid thy life long afar
From glimpse of nearest star;
Creeping in darkness while rich seasons roll,
Year following year, above thy stunted soul;
Knowing but what the dead know in the tomb
Of silence and of bloom,
Dead, thou too, in thy present and thy past -
What call doth reach thy deafened ear at last?
What instinct bids thee yearn toward the light,
Thou, who hast known but night?
What dream dawns in thee, beautiful and bold,
Of sylvan flight in noons of shimmering gold,
Where trembling trees their fluted leaves unfold?
How should such radiant dream be thine?
Or how canst though divine
The counting of the years?
For when their meted tale is told,
Lo, summonded straightway from the mold
By voice none other hears -
Lo, born anew,
The dream thou couldst not dream is true!
Thy sluggish spirit wakes, spreads wings away,
And knows the day.