Richard Realf stands as one of the most enigmatic and poignant figures in nineteenth-century American poetry—a man whose extraordinary talents were matched only by the turbulence of his existence. Born on June 14, 1832, in the quiet village of Framfield in East Sussex, England, and dying by his own hand on October 28, 1878, in Oakland, California, Realf's forty-six years traced an arc of brilliance and despair, ideal…
“I have erred greatly in my life, and suffered greatly, but I have always been a servant and never a hireling of the truth.”