I lived from 1822-1893.
I was from Canada, and am in the Americas category.
Charles Sangster was born at the Navy Yard, Point Frederick, Kingston, Ontario, on the 16th of July, 1822. He was the son of a joiner in the British Navy, and the grandson of a United Empire Loyalist, a Scotch soldier who had fought in the American Revolution.
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Charles was only two years old when his father died; and when he was fifteen years of age he retired from school to assist his mother in providing for the family.
He found work, first of allin the naval laboratory at Fort Henry; and, second, in a subordinate position in the Ordnance Office, Kingston, which he held for several years.
It was during this period that he began to contribute both prose and verse to the public journals. In 1849, he was appointed editor of the Courier in Amherstburg, and went there to live ; but, the following year, resigned and returned to Kingston, where he joined the staff of the Whig. Subsequently, in 1864,he was employed the Daily News in Kingston.
It was during his journalistic career in the 'Limestone City' that he accomplished his best literary work. His first volume, The St. Lawrence and the Saguenay, and Other Poems, appeared in 1856, published by subscription; and his second, Hesperus, and Other Poems and Lyrics, in 1860.
When forty-six years of age he accepted a position in the Post-Office Department at Ottawa, where his poetic energy and ambition succumbed, apparently, to the incessant drudgery and to the hampering cares of ill-paid employment.
Sangster was a poet born, but his literary genius was handicapped by his elementary education and limited reading. For his opportunities, he achieved notably. He died in 1893.
My poetry
I stood upon the Plain,
That had trembled when the slain,
62 lines, 1 comment
NO maiden dream, nor fancy theme,
Brown Labour's muse would sing;
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I sat within the temple of her heart,
And watched the living Soul as it passed through,
14 lines, 2 comments
Here the spirit of Beauty keepeth
Jubilee for evermore;
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One voice, one people, one in heart
And soul and feeling and desire.
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WITHIN Fancy's halls I sit and quaff
Rich draughts of the wine of Song,
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ALL peacefully gliding,
The waters dividing,
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GOD of the Harvest, Thou, whose sun
Has ripened all the golden grain,
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I
My footsteps press where, centuries ago,
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There is no sadness here. Oh, that my heart
Were calm and peaceful as these dreamy groves!
14 lines
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