In Memoriam. - Annie Seymour Robinson,

Daughter of LUCIUS F. ROBINSON and Mrs. ELIZA S. ROBINSON, died at Hartford, Wednesday, April 10th, 1861, aged 6 years and 2 months.


Dids't hear him call, my beautiful?--
    The Sire, so fond and dear
Who ere the last moon's waning ray,
Pass'd in his prime of days away,
    And hath not left his peer?

Say, beckoning from yon silver cloud
    Though none beside might see,
A hand that erst with love and pride
Its little daughter's steps would guide--
    Stretch'd out that hand for thee?

The wreathing buds of snowy rose
    That o'er thy bosom lay,
Were symbols in their beauty pale,
Of thy young life so sweet and frail,
    And all unstain'd as they.

Oh stricken hearts!--bear up,--bear on,--
    Think of your Saviour's grace,
Think of the spirit-welcome given,
When at the pearly gate of Heaven,
    Father and child embrace.

Lydia Howard Sigourney

Lydia Howard Sigourney, born on September 1, 1791, and died on June 10, 1865, was one of the most popular and prolific poets in 19th-century America. Often referred to as the 'Sweet Singer of Hartford,' she authored numerous works that included poetry, essays, and books on various subjects. Her writings, characterized by their moral and didactic tone, earned her a reputation as a leading female literary figure of her time. Sigourney's influence extended beyond literature to social issues, including temperance and women's education.

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Rev. Dr. David Smith,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Mr. Samuel Tudor,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Mrs. Joseph Morgan,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Mary Shipman Deming,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

English

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In Memoriam. - Mr. David F. Robinson,

Died at Hartford, January 26th, 1862, aged 61.


We did not think it would be so;--
                                We kept
The hope-lamp trimm'd and burning. Day by day
There came reports to cheer us;--and we thought
God in his goodness would not take away
So soon, another of that wasting band
Of worthies, whose example in our midst,
Precious and prized, we knew not how to spare.
These were our thoughts and prayers;--
                    But He who reigns
Above the clouds had different purposes.

                *    *    *    *    *

On the low pillow where so late he mourn'd
His gifted first-born, in the prime of days,
Circled by all that makes life beautiful
And full of joy, his honored head is laid,--
The Sire and Son,--ne'er to b...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Henrietta Selden Colt,

Daughter of Col. SAMUEL and Mrs. ELIZABETH COLT, died January 20th, 1862, aged 7 months and 27 days.

THE MOURNING MOTHER.


A tomb for thee, my babe!
    Dove of my bosom, can it be?
But yesterday in all thy charms,
Laughing and leaping in my arms,
    A tomb and shroud for thee!

A couch for thee mine own,
    Beneath the frost and snow!
So fondly cradled, soft and warm,
And sheltered from each breath of storm,
    A wintry couch for thee!

Thy noble father's there,
    But the last week he died,
He would have stretched his guarding arm,
To shelter thee from every harm,
    Nestle thee to his side.

Thy ruby lip skill'd not
    That father's name to speak,
Yet wouldst thou pause mid infant play
To kiss his pi...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Miss Anna M. Seymour,

Died at Hartford, August 24th, 1860.


The beauteous brow, the form of grace,
    With all their youthful charms,
The hand that woke the pencil's power,
And bore to penury's lowly bower,
    The never-wearied alms,

The sweet, sweet voice that duly cheer'd
    A grateful Sabbath train,
The uprais'd eye that taught them more
Of Heaven, than all their student lore,
    Must ne'er return again.

She took her flight as from the cage
    Enfranchised warblers glide,
Though friends were dear, and life was fair,
She saw her Saviour standing there,
    Beyond rough Jordan's tide.

Praise, praise to Him, whose faithful hand
    Prepared her glorious place,
For us is loss,--for her release,
The robe of rest, the home of peace,--

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Mrs. Harvey Seymour,

Died at Hartford, Sunday, May 5th, 1861.


She found a painless avenue to make
The great transition from a world of care
To one of rest.
                    It was the Sabbath day,
And beautiful with smile of vernal sun
And the up-springing fragrance from the earth,
With all that soothing quietude which links
The consecrated season unto Him
Who bade the creatures He had made, revere
And keep it holy.
                    From her fair abode,
Lovely with early flowers, she took her way
The second time, unto the House of God,
And side by side with her life's chosen friend
Walk'd cheerfully. Within those hallow'd courts,
Where holds the soul communion with its God,
She listening sate.
                    But then she lean'd her head
Upon h...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Harriet Allen Ely,

Died at Providence, Rhode Island, April 27th, 1862, aged 7 years and 2 months.


Seven blest years our darling daughter,
    We have held thee to our hearts,
Every season growing dearer;
We have held thee near and nearer,
    Never dreaming thus to part.

Seven brief years--our only daughter--
    Sweet has been the parent rule,
Infant watch by cradle nightly,
'Till we saw thy footsteps lightly
    Tripping joyously to school.

Germ of promise,--bud of beauty,
    To our tenderest nurture given,
Not for our too dim beholding
Was thy fair and full unfolding;
    That perfection is in Heaven.

Earth no license had to harm thee,
    Time no power to touch thy bloom,
Holy is our faith to meet thee,
Glorious is our trust to g...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Mrs. Mary Mildenstein Robertson,

Wife of Rev. WILLIAM H. C. ROBERTSON, died at Magnolia, East Florida, January 13th, aged 34.


Our buds have faded,--winter's frigid breath
    Sigh'd o'er their bosoms, and they fell away,
So in these household bowers the ice of death
    Bids rose and lily ere their prime decay,
And see a Passion-Flower from tropic skies
Beneath our drifted snows, not without requiem lies.

A brilliant daughter of the Cuban vales
    Of generous mind, impulsive, strong and high
Twined the home-tendril where our northern gales
    Sweep grove and forest with their minstrelsy,
Labor'd for classic lore with studious part,
And planted friendship's germ in many an answering heart.

Her filial piety intensely warm
    Whose gushing tenderness no limit knew,
Clasp'd ...

Lydia Howard Sigourney