TO ARMS, LITERATI!
A Boston newspaper manages to get through an editorial on Richard Hovey and the "Stein Song" without any mention of Frederic Field Bullard! One might as well leave Hamlet out of "Hamlet," for although Hovey wrote the words, they would scarcely have been remembered without Bullard's spirit-stirring tune. What else of Hovey's poetry is now popularly known and treasured? F. P. Cleaves, in an article on Hovey, speaks of him as "Dartmouth's most distinguished name in the field of American letters." It is possible. It is a little hard to think of any great Dartmouth name in literature—they are plenty in politics and public affairs. Perhaps some son of Dartmouth will send the Nomad in a list of Dartmouth's famous writers. Hovey was certainly a brilliant man, a true poet, and a splendid fellow, as all who remember him will gladly testify. But he is the secondary figure in connection with the "Stein Song." The hero of that is Bullard. Strange fate, that sent both of these famous collaborators to their graves so young—Hovey at thirty-six, and Bullard in his fortieth year! Boston Transcript.
