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Buried Gems: The Poetry of Mrs. M. J. Smith

As usual, the People's Voice of May 1, 1880 starts off with a poem, titled Buried Gems:

How many gems of thought beneath 
The dust of toil lie buried; 
How many o’er the bridge of sighs 
To silent tombs are carried, 
And never see the light of day— 
Tho’ their’s is matchless beauty; 
For hands that hold the richest gifts,
Must closest cling to duty. 
How many hands ne’er dare to pluck 
From life the wayside flowers; 
How many feet must bleed and ache 
In this bright world of ours; 
While others sing the gayest songs, 
And pluck the brightest roses; 
For them the opening of each hour, 
Some new found joy discloses. 
How many sweet songs well to lips 
That may not pause to sing them; 
And sweet bells chime in many a heart 
But there’s no one to ring them. 
God pity such whose rounded years 
Are filled with care and trials, 
Whose daily life is constantly 
Made up up self-denials. 
 For those who toil in faith and hope 
There must be rest at last; 
For those who weep there must be joy, 
When all these tears are past. 
And there'll be gems for those who bear 
Aloft the cross of duty— 
Where the unfettered tongue shall sing 
’Mid love, and joy, and beauty. 
—Mrs. M. J. Smith.

My ongoing quest to find unknown local authors seemed like we had a potential hit here. While this is not in any way an outstanding poem, there are a few lines that have the ring and cadence of something with some potential. Perhaps this could be a local poet, like C. Toler Wolfe, whose work is now lost to time. Although it's not much, we have a name to start searching, and a general time frame for the search. Let's see what we can learn about Mrs. M. J. Smith and her work!

Since this poem alone was not returning hits outside of newspaper editions (one in Vermont was printed April 2, 1880 and a Pennsylvania newspaper printed the same one day earlier), a narrower search of 19th century books proved much more fruitful. All of the following sources credit "Mrs. M. J. Smith" as the author: 

While we can't definitively say all these poems are the work of the same woman, the themes and structure are similar enough to be reasonably certain they could be by the same writer. "Buried Gems," as possibly one of her earlier works, is a bit more uneven than a later poem like "Mother's Room," which keeps a consistent focus and tone throughout.

None of these sources was sufficient to pin down any particulars about Mrs. M. J. Smith as a person, but several other possibilities presented themselves. In the Ladies' Own Magazine, there are two letter to the editor style submissions from a Mrs. M. J. Smith in Washington Heights, Illinois. In another magazine, there is a subscription notice from a Mrs. M. J. Smith in Hummelstown, Pennsylvania. A third magazine, The Michigan Teacher, notes a Mrs. M. J. Smith in Berrien Springs. 

Unfortunately, the lack of any concrete details on the poet seriously diminishes the ability to pin down her information through census records or other common search methods for cross referencing and verification. It seems, however, she was a relatively well-known poet, but almost certainly not a Winchester native (or even one that could be claimed by marriage, like Van Alstyne). 

Mrs. M. J. Smith from Local and National Poets of America, 1892.
Luckily, her prolific writing style earned her a spot in Local and National Poets of America. The book states she was born in Gardiner, Maine, on Oct. 28, 1834. The biography is exceedingly short, but we have some real clues now: "This lady has written over a thousand poems, many of which have appeared in some of the leading periodicals of America. She was married in 1852 to Mr. A. A. Smith, and now resides in Longwood, a suburb of Chicago."

The US Census from 1880 suggests two possible candidates for our poet near Chicago. Our first is a Mary J. Smith (widowed) living at 301 Paulina Street. The census does not specify north or south; if it was south, her home has been replaced with a medical building, while north looks very industrial/commercial. The second is also a Mary J. Smith, living at 256 Walnut Street. 

Given the hint that the suburb was given as Longwood, it seems most likely her house was on North Paulina Street. With that assumption, we can glean from the census that she had at least one daughter, Louisa M. Smith, who was 19 at the time and involved in a "charitable institution."

Even with these clues, it has so far proven impossible to definitely track down a death date or confirm her husband's name. Beyond a handful of attributed poems and letters, Mrs. M. J. Smith is still a buried gem in the late Victorian poetry scene. If you know more, either about her poetry or with some additional research angles, drop me a note!

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