I lived from 1845-1909.
I was from the United States, and am in the Americas category.
I was influenced by poets John Keats, Sidney Lanier, Edgar Allan Poe, William Shakespeare, Percy Bysshe Shelley.
John Bannister Tabb was a poet and educater, born near Richmond, Virginia in 1845. Tabb descended from one of the oldest and wealthiest Virginian familes. He was privately tutored as a child. At the age of fourteen his sight was failing and he had to give up his studies, and for a few years spent much time at the piano, which made him proficient in music.
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When the Civil War began he enlisted into the Confederacy and served in the CSA Navy until he was taken prisoner, June 4th 1864. He was sent to the "Bull-Pen" at Point Lookout, where he acquired a friendship with Sidney Lanier.
He was released from prison that following February, 1865. At the end of the war he was broke and put his mind to having a career in music, he practiced up to seven hours a day. He secured a teaching position at St. Paul's School in Baltimore, Maryland. While a teacher there, Tabb was influenced by Reverend Alfred Curtis, who later converted from Episcopalian to the Catholic Church. Tabb followed in 1872. He entered St. Charle's College a few years later to prepare for the priesthood.
After he completed his classical studies he retained a position as a teacher of English; his theological studies were not completed until the end of 1884, when he was ordained. He continued teaching at St. Charle's 'til a short period before his death.
His only attribution of non-poetry is his "Bones Rules" which was considered a valuable contribution to teaching.
He was greatly admired in the field of lyrics. He died in 1909.
Popular poetry
I go not to the grave to weep,
But to my heart, wherein I keep
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His eyes were dim; so here he lies,
Whose death came after his dim-ise.
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The ghost am I
Of winds that die
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He prisons many a life indeed
Within the narrow cells of seed,
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Behold, above the hidden root,
How white the bloom, how black the fruit!
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Again as in the desert way,
Behold my guides--a cloud by day,
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The vital vapors to absorb,
The moon, with famished gaze,
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Dead in the desert! with the great white moon
Above him and around him wastes of sand,
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The Twilight to my Star,
Her hoary head
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All others rest; but I
Dream-haunted lie—
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