Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/280

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JAMES G. DUAKE. James G. Drake was the youngest member of a family celebrated in the dramatic annals of the West. His father, Samuel Drake, and his brothers, Alexander and Samuel, were, for many years, great favorites among our play-loving citizens. His sister, JuUa Drake, mother of William W, Fosdick the poet, by her first, and of Julia Dean the actress, by her second husband, was also a favorite. James G. had talent for the stage, but never indulged it. He is known to the public chiefly as a song writer. His " Tom Breeze," " Parlez Bas," and other melodious songs, have been widely admired. He was, nearly all his life, a resident of Louisville, Kentucky, and he died in that city on the thirteenth day of May, 1850. The Drake family was English, but emigrated to the United States when the elder brothers were minors, and soon after came to the West. James G. was the latest sur- vivor. The family name does not now appear in dramatic records, though two of its descendants are conspicuous actresses, Julia Dean Hayne, above alluded to, and Julia Drake Chapman, daughter of Alexander Drake, who married Julia Dennie, celebrat- ed ten or fifteen years ago as a tragic actress, but now living in retirement. PARLEZ BAS. Parlez bas ! The moon is up, And o'er the sleepy throng The mocking-bird's high notes are heard. In wild and witching song — No eye shall trace thy footsteps here. But fear thee not while love is near. Parlez bas ! Though here we meet In silence deep, alone, No guilty thoughts disturb our souls, Nor wish we fear to own. Pure as the light yon orb imparts, Shall be the meeting of our hearts. Parlez bas ! A genial breath Is wandering o'er earth's flowers ; Their fragrance mingles with thy voice. And holy joy is ours. Parlez bas ! and let each tone Echo the fondness of mine own. Parlez bas! And now repeat The vow those lips once made ; Mine is a love that cannot change, A heart that ne'er betrayed. O say that thou wilt love me still. Through storm or sunshine, good or ill. Parlez bas ! I bless thy words, The last that I may hear ; Sweet on my brow thy breath I feel, Upon my cheek thy tear. Now take thee to thy bed and rest, And be thou bless'd as I am bless'd. (264)