Biography of Hermann Hagedorn
Hermann Hagedorn (1882, New York City – d. 1964) was an American author, poet and biographer.
He was born in New York City and educated at Harvard University, the University of Berlin, and Columbia University. From 1909 to 1911, he was an instructor in English at Harvard.
Hagedorn was a friend and biographer of Theodore Roosevelt. He also served as Secretary and Director of the Theodore Roosevelt Association from 1919 to 1957. Drawing upon his friendship with Roosevelt, Hagedorn was able to elicite the support of Roosevelt's friends and associates' personal recollections in his biography of TR which was first published in 1919 and then updated in 1921 and which is oriented toward children. The book has a summary questions for young readers at the end of each chapter. Drawing on the same friends and associates of Roosevelt, Hagedorn also published the first serious study of TR's experience as a rancher in the Badlands after the death of his wife and mother in 1884. Hagedorn's access to TR's associates in these two books has been utilized by historian, Edmund Morris in his two highly acclaimed biographical books on Roosevelt published in 1979 and 2001.
Among other works, Hagedorn published:
The Silver Blade (1907)
The Woman of Corinth (1908)
A Troop of the Guard, and other Poems (1909)
Poems and Ballads (1912)
Faces in the Dawn (1914)
You are the Hope of the World (1917, 1920)
Theodore Roosevelt (1919, 1921)
That Human Being, Leonard Wood (1920)
Roosevelt in the Badlands (1921)
The Magnate: William Boyce Thompson and his Time (1935)
Sunward I've Climbed, The Story of John Magee, Poet and Soldier, 1922–1941
Prophet in the Wilderness: The Story of Albert Schweitzer (1947)
Hermann Hagedorn Poems
Prayer During Battle
Lord, in this hour of tumult, Lord, in this night of fears, Keep open, oh, keep open My eyes, my ears.
Pyres in the night, in the night! And the roaring yellow and red. Trooper, trooper, why so white? We are out to gather our dead.
The Mother In The House
For such as you, I do believe, Spirits their softest carpets weave. And spread them out with gracious hand Wherever you walk, wherever you stand.
Not long did we lie on the torn, red field of pain. We fell, we lay, we slumbered, we took rest,
Early Morning At Bargis
Clear air and grassy lea, Stream-song and cattle-bell— Dear man, what fools are we In prison-walls to dwell!
How like the stars are these white, nameless faces— These far innumerable burning coals! This pale procession out of stellar spaces,
My true love from her pillow rose And wandered down the summer lane. She left her house to the wind's carouse, And her chamber wide to the rain.
Song Is So Old
Song is so old, Love is so new -- Let me be still And kneel to you.
Like a young child who to his mother's door Runs eager for the welcoming embrace, And finds the door shut, and with troubled face Calls and through sobbing calls, and o'er and o'er
Like a young child who to his mother's door
Runs eager for the welcoming embrace,
And finds the door shut, and with troubled face
Calls and through sobbing calls, and o'er and o'er
Calling, storms at the panel -- so before
A door that will not open, sick and numb,
I listen for a word that will not come,
And know, at last, I may not enter more.