Lost Work of Marie Pickering Recovered

My great-grandmother Marie Rose Pickering by the early age of 20 had made “quite a reputation” as a short-story writer, as well as musician and linguist. That’s according to a September 25th, 1907 report in the San Francisco Call. But where are these literary masterpieces? None has survived the handing down of family treasure troves.

Thankfully, at least one is available digitally today, thanks to a Library of Congress campaign. Published in Sunset magazine when she was 19, “Western Slumber Song” evinces the young beauty’s effortless use of meter, rhyme, and alliteration to  lull the reader into a blissful trance. Reading the poem 100 years later, the incredible beauty of the early West comes through loudly and clearly. One can almost hear the brooks bubbling, the night birds calling, and the wind blowing.

Pickering, who was educated at Madames College in Menlo Park, California, waxes literary in the poem, evoking an image of Venus, the goddess of love and beauty. The goddess looks down on the West and, crying sweetly, presumably at its incredible beauty, suggests that it rest eternal. Without further ado, here’s her literary masterpiece.

Western Slumber Song

Softly twilight shades are falling,

Night bird voices, grim, appalling,

Mystic voices; Nature’s calling,

To the slumber of the West

Mission bells have ceased their ringing,

Hushed the songs that birds were singing,

Only silent darkness, bringing

Sweetest slumber to the West

Smoothly, rippling brooks are flowing,

Little ferns are slowly growing,

Coolest breeze is softly blowing

Sweetest slumber to the West

Oaken leaves are sadly sighing,

Faded flowers gladly dying,

Only Venus sweetly crying

“Rest eternal to the West!”