On this second day of our poems for graduation week, we turn from the elevated rhetoric of Mr. Longfellow to the tongue-in-cheek prophesying of Mrs. Gilman. Caroline Howard Gilman (1794–1888) was one of those lady authors who seemed to proliferate in nineteenth-century America, editing small magazines and pouring forth well-intentioned verse and prose. Lydia Maria Child, whose most famous poem ran as the Sun’s Thanksgiving Poem of the Day this past year, is the obvious exemplar of this type. We may also remember Frances Sargent Osgood, whose “Calumny,” another Sun Poem of the Day selection, hints at the consequences, especially among gossipy poetic ladies, of being singled out for admiration by Edgar Allan Poe.

Gilman, a native of Boston, relocated to Charleston, South Carolina, with her Unitarian-minister husband in 1819. It was there that she spent most of the rest of her long life and founded a children’s newspaper called the Rosebud, which featured many of her own works. Under the name “Mrs. Clarissa Packard,” she was also the author of a series of humorous novels on domestic themes. As much of the humor turns on the behaviors of servants, for some of whom, in the South, “servant” was a euphemism, the jokes have not worn especially well.

But today’s excerpt from Gilman’s 1852 “Oracles for Youth: A Home Pastime,” prefigures the modern comic “senior-class prophecies” that we may remember from our high-school days. While the standard class prophecy names names, not always kindly, Gilman’s oracle is content to drop general predictions, mostly in rhyming tetrameter couplets: The sun will shine on some people. The rain will fall on others. California is an iffy proposition. Nobody wants to be like her number eighteen, but for her fortunate number forty-three, the future is a garden of flowers. The real winner, however, is her number thirty-seven, bequeathed an entire sestet, not to mention buried treasure. How this person gets so lucky the oracle does not say. 

Oracles for Youth
by Caroline Gilman

What Will Be Your Destiny? 
              FORTY-THREE ANSWERS 

1. Just as you think you’ve gained great wealth, 
    Something will make you lose your health. 

2. Your hair will be white in a single night, 
    From having an unexpected fright. 

3. You will enjoy a sweet old age, 
    So kind and pure, so long and sage. 

4. You will fall down at eighty-four, 
    And break a dozen ribs or more. 

5. You will finish your days with God for your friend: 
    Who would not be glad of so blissful an end? 

6. You will be ever absorbed in books, 
    And never give a thought to looks. 

7. In peace and plenty you will lie, 
    And in the arms of friendship die. 

8. You will have cause for many tears, 
    To cloud the beauty of your years. 

9. Ah, is it so? when you are old, 
   you will be very poor, I’m told. 

10. In the night-time you will weep, 
      And your painful vigils keep. 

11. Nothing dreadful, nothing sad, 
      Comes to you; for this I’m glad. 

12. You always will have an excellent table, 
      And full of horses will keep your stable. 

13. The Sibyl says you’ll die in Rome, 
      Which for a time will be your home. 

14. Your plenty and peace 
      Will never cease. 

15. You will suddenly die in the crowded street, 
      If the age of a hundred years you meet. 

16. You will ride in your carriage-and-four, 
      And be very kind to the suffering poor. 

17. Never murmur, never care, 
      You will be a millionaire. 

18. Sick at heart, and sick at head, 
      You will wish that you were dead. 

19. As the might of God you see, 
      Religious you will ever be. 

20. To California you will go 
      To get the shining gold, you know. 

21. Brightest pleasures you will see, 
      And happiness your portion be. 

22. Love will gild your joyous life, 
      Free from pain and care and strife. 

23. Don’t despond, and do not care, 
      You will be a nabob’s heir. 

24. To California you will be sent, 
      But will return as poor as you went. 

25. A missionary you will be, 
      Far o’er the billows of the sea. 

26. It is your destiny to rule, 
      And you will keep a village school. 

27. Ball and parties you will find 
      Alone are suited to your mind. 

28. Through the vista of the years 
      I see you mourning and in tears. 

29. A country life at length you’ll lead, 
      Rejoicing in your ambling steed. 

30. Fair in the wild and prairied west, 
      Your tired frame at length you’ll rest. 

31. A public singer’s place you’ll take, 
      And a sensation you will make. 

32. You’ll only love your native home, 
      From which you will not care to roam. 

33. A great pianist, you will gain 
      Bright laurels from the admiring train. 

34. A kitchen garden you will keep, 
      And sell fresh vegetables cheap. 

35. To higher virtues you will rise, 
      Until you’re ready for the skies. 

36. To the city’s crowded street 
      You’ll direct your willing feet. 

37. In digging in a worn-out field 
      You’ll see a box, securely sealed, 
          Half buried in the ground; 
      And therein jewels bright, and gold, 
      And bank-notes, in large bundles rolled, 
          Will joyfully be found. 

38. A music teacher you will be, 
      This is your tuneful destiny. 

39. You will travel in your prime, 
      And view the works of art sublime. 

40. You will journey the whole world o’er, 
      And gather relics from every shore. 

41. The most of your time will be passed on the sea, 
      But wherever you are, you will happy be. 

42. On an island will you live, 
      And nice pleasure-parties give. 

43. You will spend your leisure hours, 
      In a garden tending flowers. 

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With “Poem of the Day,” The New York Sun offers a daily portion of verse selected by Joseph Bottum with the help of the North Carolina poet Sally Thomas, the Sun’s associate poetry editor. Tied to the day, or the season, or just individual taste, the poems are drawn from the deep traditions of English verse: the great work of the past and the living poets who keep those traditions alive. The goal is always to show that poetry can still serve as a delight to the ear, an instruction to the mind, and a tonic for the soul.