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Stuart Merrill

Stuart Merrill

Stuart Merrill was an American poet known for his significant contributions to the Symbolist movement, primarily writing in French. Born in Hempstead, New York, he moved to France, where he became immersed in the vibrant literary culture of the time. Merrill's poetry is characterized by its musicality and rich imagery, reflecting the Symbolist emphasis on evoking emotions and sensations rather than depicting reality directly. His notable works include 'Les Gammes' (1887), 'Les Fastes' (1891), and 'Petits Poèmes d'Automne' (1895), each showcasing his innovative approach to language and form. Merrill's work is significant not only for its artistic merit but also for its role in bridging American and French literary traditions. As a member of the Symbolist school, he influenced a generation of poets and writers who sought to explore the depths of human experience through suggestive and evocative language. Despite his relatively short life, his legacy endures, marking him as an important figure in the landscape of late 19th-century poetry and a precursor to modernist experimentation in verse.

Wikipedia

Stuart Fitzrandolph Merrill (August 1, 1863 in Hempstead, New York – December 1, 1915 in Versailles, France) was an Amer...

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“The autumn months are my domain: Mirrored in pools my castles dream Of wars long past and out of mind From towers with ivy garlands twined Weak and with regret the sun Drowns itself in the sluggish green Water that marble fountains weep; Trees open their nests to the wings of sleep. The wind like a phantom seems to roar, Returned to die of love once more At the false meeting of the ways Where a temple rounds its dome in the haze. Sometimes a child is heard to laugh In the house of the priest, far off; His lamp on the ledge of the window gleams Much as the Holy Spirit flames. Then nothing. Only a plane tree sways Its crown of leaves in the dark that graze Slowly and with a sound so alight They barely ripple the silent night. I am the lord of this domain. Through halls of hollow, echoing Armor, I haul the heavy shame Of not being able to be king.”

“The autumn months are my domain: Mirrored in pools my castles dream Of wars long past and out of mind From towers with ivy garlands twined Weak and with regret the sun Drowns itself in the sluggish green Water that marble fountains weep; Trees open their nests to the wings of sleep. The wind like a phantom seems to roar, Returned to die of love once more At the false meeting of the ways Where a temple rounds its dome in the haze. Sometimes a child is heard to laugh In the house of the priest, far off; His lamp on the ledge of the window gleams Much as the Holy Spirit flames. Then nothing. Only a plane tree sways Its crown of leaves in the dark that graze Slowly and with a sound so alight They barely ripple the silent night. I am the lord of this domain. Through halls of hollow, echoing Armor, I haul the heavy shame Of not being able to be king.”

Books from the author

PetitsPoèmesD'automne

Stuart Merrill

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