A Place in Thy MemoryJ.F. Trow, printer, 1850 - 191 страници |
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Страница 1 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine...
Страница 29 - ... sprinkled with beams from thy baptismal font. At thy golden urn, pale Luna comes to fill her silver horn, and Saturn bathes his sky-girt rings ; Jupiter lights his waning moons, and Venus dips her queenly robes anew. Thy fountains are shoreless as the ocean of heavenly love ; thy center is everywhere, and thy boundary no power has marked. Thy beams gild the illimitable fields of space, and gladden the farthest verge of the universe. The glories of the seventh heaven are open to thy gaze, and...
Страница 30 - The granite rocks of the hills are upturned by thee, volcanoes burst, islands sink and rise, rivers roll, and oceans swell at thy look of command. And oh, thou monarch of the skies, bend now thy bow of millioned arrows, and pierce, if thou canst, this darkness that thrice twelve moons has bound me. Burst now thine emerald gates, O morn, and let thy dawning come. My eyes roll in vain to find thee, and my soul is weary of this interminable gloom. My heart is but the tomb of blighted hopes, and all...
Страница 24 - In comparison, Byron loses his fire, Milton his soarings, Gray his beauties, and Homer his grandeur and figures. No eye like rapt Isaiah's ever pierced the veil of the future; no tongue ever reasoned like sainted Job's; no poet ever sung like Israel's shepherd king; and God never made a wiser man than Solomon. The words of the Bible are pictures of immortality; dews from the tree of knowledge; pearls from the river of life; and gems of celestial thought. As the moaning shell whispers of the sea,...
Страница 61 - Let Fate do her worst ; there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy ; Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories filled ! Like the vase, in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Страница 24 - Isaiah's ever pierced the veil of the future; no tongue ever reasoned like sainted Job's; no poet ever sung like Israel's shepherd king, and God never made a man more wise than Solomon. The words of the Bible are pictures of immortality; dews from the tree of Knowledge ; pearls from the river of Life, and gems of celestial thought. As the moaning shell whispers of the sea, so the Bible breathes of love in heaven, the home of angels, and joys too pure to die. Would I had read it more when my poor...
Страница 29 - Infinite, can pierce the dark vail of the future, and glance backward through the mystic cycles of the past. Thy touch gives the lily its whiteness, the rose its tint, and thy kindling ray makes the diamond's light ; thy beams are mighty as the power that binds the spheres ; thou canst change the sleety winds to soothing zephyrs, and thou canst melt the icy mountains of the poles to gentle rains and dewy vapors. The granite rocks of the hills are upturned by thee, volcanoes burst, islands sink and...
Страница 23 - ... The Poplar Farm, as it was called, was situated in a beautiful valley nine miles from Natchez, and near the river Mississippi. The once unshorn face of nature had given way, and now the farm blossomed with a splendid harvest, the neat cottage stood in a grove where Lombardy poplars lift their tufted tops almost to prop the skies; the willow, locust, and horse-chestnut spread their branches, and flowers never cease to blossom. This was the parson's country house, where the family spent only two...
Страница 18 - FLORIDA, Feb. the 8 [1864]. MY DEAR HUSBAND, — This Hour I Sit Me Down To write you In a Little world of sweet sounds The Choir In The Chapel near Here are Chanting at The organ and Thair Morning Hymn across The street are sounding and The Dear Little birds are joining Thair voices In Tones sweet and pure as angels whispers, but My Dear all The songs of The birds sounds sweet In My Ear but a sweeter song Than That I now Hear and That Is...
Страница 5 - I was in one short month a bride, a widow, and blind; yet Providence has made it needful for me to do something to provide for myself food and raiment.