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Joseph Pullman Porter

I was from the United States.

I was influenced by poets Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, John Greenleaf Whittier.

b. Oct. 8, 1893, Brooklyn, N.Y.
d. March 1, 1980, Ithaca, N.Y.


Joseph Pullman Porter was a landscape architect who taught at Cornell University, his own alma mater (Class of 1917), for over forty years. His father Charles Porter was a furrier and through this association, Porter, in his youth, was to meet Admiral Robert Peary, the arctic explorer. Prof. Porter was the great nephew of George Mortimer Pullman, the American Railroad car inventor, and called Pullman by his mother, Bella Pullman. In college he was given the nickname of "Tip" by his frat mates and it stuck, thanks in part to his marrying "the Brakeman's Daugher", Harriet Mae Brake, in 1921. Father of four and an avid outdoorsman, he made frequent trips to the Adirondacks where he befriended the celebrated hermit Noah John Rondeau. Porter sang in choir and did lay preaching; he also loved to draw and his landscape designs always featured a squirrel.
His reputation as a poet is centered upon a single volume which he produced for his parents in 1924 entitled "From Ink and Brush," This was handwritten and illustrated by Pullman himself as a Christmas gift.

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  • When skies are black instead of azure blue
    And all the world seems sadly out of tune,
    14 lines
  • Under the pines, near the murmuring brook,
    I know the wild orchids grow,
    29 lines
  • You ought'er come over to our yard.
    Oh boy! But we have fun!
    47 lines
  • They say that life's just what we make it.
    Each one guides the course of his soul:
    37 lines
  • He paused where the river meets the wood,
    And watched on its limpid plane
    26 lines
  • At times, the mind speaks forth its pleasure
    And clothes its thoughts in pigment or in rhyme.
    16 lines
  • I am dreaming tonight by my fireside,
    Of my pal and those days long ago;
    22 lines
  • Under the sunset's golden ray,
    Yonder mountain, green and gray,
    12 lines
  • March! And the brook still ice-bound,
    And grass all brown and grey.
    21 lines
  • 'Still sits the schoolhouse by the road,
    A ragged beggar sunning,
    49 lines

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