Richard Henry Dana, Sr. (November 15, 1787 – February 2, 1879) was an American poet, critic and lawyer. His son, Richard Henry Dana, Jr., also became a lawyer and author.
Richard Henry Dana was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts on November 15, 1787, the son of Federalist judge Francis Dana. He graduated from Harvard College and became a lawyer. He married Ruth Charlotte Smith and the couple had four children, including Richard Henry Dana, Jr.
Dana was also a literary critic. Between 1817 and 1827, he was the first American to write major critiques of Romanticism, though his views were unconventional then. In a review of the poetry of Washington Allston, he noted his belief that poetry was the highest form of art, though it should be simple and must avoid didacticism. Some of his criticisms were controversial. Dana accused Harvard of smothering genius, and that the minds of poets were more insightful than the general community. Dana also criticized the Transcendentalism movement. He wrote, "Emerson & the other Spiritualists, or Supernaturalists, or whatever they are called, or may be pleased to call themselves... [have] madness in their hearts". Dana was a member of the Anthology Club; he and others in the club founded the North American Review. in 1817 as an outlet for his criticism, though his opposition with standard conventions lost him his editorial control of it. By 1850, his opinions were widely followed. As he wrote at the time, "Much that was once held to be presumptuous novelty... [became] little better than commonplace".
As a writer of fiction, Dana was an early practitioner of Gothic literature, particularly with his novel Paul Felton (1822), a tale of madness and murder.The novel has also been called a pioneering work of psychological realism alongside works by William Gilmore Simms.[8] Nevertheless, Dana had difficulty supporting his family through his writing, which earned him only $400 over 30 years.
He lived on Chestnut Street in Boston's Beacon Hill neighborhood, ca.1840s-1870s.
I.
Come, hoist the sail, the fast let go!
They're seated all aboard.
Wave chases wave in easy flow:
...
Thou little bird, thou dweller by the sea,
Why takest thou its melancholy voice,
And with that boding cry
Why o'er the waves dost fly?
...
THOUGH I am humble, slight me not,
But love me for the Poet’s sake;
Forget me not till he ’s forgot,
For care or slight with him I take.
...
And do our loves all perish with our frames?
Do those that took their root and put forth buds,
And their soft leaves unfolded in the warmth
...
WHENCE come ye, Cherubs? from the moon?
Or from a shining star?
Ye sure are sent, a blessed boon,
...