For many years I have been gradually collecting poems written about Guyana or by Guyanese from as early as possible to the present day for the purpose of preparing and publishing an entirely new and comprehensive Anthology of Guyanese Poetry.
The first anthology of Guyanese verse entitled Guianese Poetry, was published in 1931 by Norman Cameron. It covered the period 1831 to 1931. In this respect, as in so many others, N.E. Cameron was a pioneer whose achievement we should cherish. In 1934, another outstanding pioneer, C.J. Ramcharitar Lalla, published an Anthology of Local Indian Verse.
A.J. Seymour was the great editor of Kyk-Over-Al and a national poet for over 50 years. He was also our greatest anthologist. In 1954 he devoted a whole issue of Kyk, No. 19, to an anthology of Guyanese poetry. (Another issue of Kyk, No. 14, in 1952 had been devoted to an anthology of West Indian poetry). In 1961 A.J. Seymour published another anthology, Themes of Song, and in 1971 with his wife, Elma, he brought out My Lovely Native Land. In 1973 Elma Seymour brought out her own small anthology entitled Sun Is A Shapely Fire. Then in 1980 AJS published the best and most comprehensive anthology of Guyanese poetry so far compiled, the GTM Centenary Anthology, A Treasury of Guyanese Poetry.
In the search for poems for a new anthology of Guyanese poetry I have already found, or been given, many treasures. I now have a copy of Leo’s Local Lyrics, published in 1886 in Georgetown and a copy also of a long poetic Tribute to the Memory of the Reverend John Smith, published in 1824. A particular treasure is William Henry Brett’s Legends and Myths of the Aboriginal Indians of British Guiana, all in verse, published in 1880. There are H.T.’s Stray Thoughts, published in 1889 and J.B. Harlequin’s Lyrics and Other Poems, published in 1918. I have found references to many other collections and publications which I still have to track down. As one comes to modern times the verse proliferates. A.J. Seymour, alone, in his over 50 years of writing published no less than 42 separate collections or pamphlets of verse.
One particular treasure I found is a worm-eaten, brittle-paged copy of Essays and Fables, Written in the Vernacular, of the Creoles of British Guiana by Michael McTurk whose pen name was Quow. Published in 1899 by the Argosy Press in Georgetown. It is a most precious book 123 years old. I keep it, with others, in cedarwood. One poem in it which I will probably use in the anthology is “The Venezuelan War” which is prefaced by the following “argument” by the author:
“Venezuelan warships are signaled from the Lighthouse – the Volunteers are paraded but strike for pay – the Public Works Department fleet of punts under the Acting Engineer is despatched to meet the enemy – off Leguan the mate of the Governor Young who espies two approaching steamers through
a telescope made of a bottle without a bottom, gives the alarm that the enemy is approaching – the fleet decide to return to town – but they find the tide contrary – meanwhile the approaching steamers prove to be the two Government steam launches from the North West district – and the colony is saved.”
On February 17th, 1885, a very high spring tide and rough seas washed away the earth dams and inundated the whole of Kingston. I have found some lines on this event by a contemporary local rhymer and hope I can discover the whole poem and the name of its author:
“Be sober, my muse, and with gravity tell
What sad havoc and ruin all Kingston befell
How the sea swept away all the dam and its smouses
Made canals of the streets, Noah’s arks of the houses
How some bridges blew up, how some houses came down,
And together went wandering over the town”
One of the earliest poems of merit and interest about Guyana which I have come across so far is by Edward Thompson. It first appeared in his Nautics, or, Sailor’s Verses, published in two volumes in 1783. Thompson was a remarkable man. My old friend, Joel Benjamin, whose death so young years ago I consider the greatest possible tragedy in the world of Guyanese scholarship, told me once that he knew of Edward Thompson as a map-maker and chronicler of note but not as a poet. Thompson was an English naval officer and in 1778 commanded the Hyaena, a small frigate which he took to the West Indies, returning with a convoy. In 1780-81 he was sent to the West Indies again to establish and defend the colonies of Demerara and Essequibo. Later, when on half-pay, he published poetry and brought out an edition of Marvell. He obviously lived a good life, adventure mixed with poetry mixed with love.
Here is Edward Thompson’s poem.
The Indian Maid, Demararie, October 27, 1781
The Indian maid who lightly trips,
The Dryad of the Guava grove,
The zone of Venus round her hips,
And graced with youth, and blessed in love!
Gold rings adorn her nose and arms,
And leaves of beads veil naked charms.
Or if she quits the golden wood,
Pierced by the scorching solar beam,
She plunges in the cooler flood,
And swims the Naiad of the stream:
Adores the god in ev’ry air,
And smiles the maid without a care.
Or if more distant creeks invite
To fish, to fowl, or seek her love,
She paddles the canoe upright,
Where Christian maids would fear to move;
On some fair tree her hammock swings,
Nor envies she the beds of kings.
Like other belles of other shores,
She daubs her limbs, her face, her hair.
Raucoo and launa¹ stop the pores
Against mosquitoes and the air.
But these, I trust, nor spoil her skin,
They’re to defend – not lure to sin.
A beauteous bronze she stands confessed,
Venus nor Hebe more complete;
With various feathers tricked and dressed,
Perfumed with Tonkay² flow’rs most sweet!
And when she moves, her mien and grace
Prove her the goddess of the place!
1 Paints used by the Indians; the first red, the latter black.
2 Tonkay tree, one of the largest of the creation. It bears a sweet flower, which sets in a bean, and smells like new hay.
If any reader of this article should happen to know of – or, better yet, possess – any unusual collection of Guyanese poetry – or even individual Guyanese poem – especially dating from before 1900 – I should greatly welcome hearing from him or her.
