In Memoriam. - Deacon Normand Smith,

Died at Hartford, May 22d, 1860, aged 87.


One saintly man the less, to teach us how
Wisely to live,--one blest example more
To teach us how to die.
                    Fourscore and seven,
Swept not the beauty of his brow away,
Nor quell'd his voice of music, nor impair'd
The social feeling that through all his life
Ran like a thread of gold.
                    In filial arms
Close wrapp'd with watchful tenderness, he trod
Jordan's cold brink.
                    The world was beautiful,
But Christ's dear love so wrought within his heart
That to depart seem'd better.
                    Many a year
He lent his influence to the church he loved,
For unity and peace, and countless gems
Dropp'd from his lips when the last sickness came,
To fortify young pilgrims in the course
That leads to glory and eternal life.

As the frail flesh grew weak, the soul look'd forth
With added brightness thro' the clear, dark eye,
As though it saw unutterable things,
Or heard the welcome of beloved ones
Who went to rest before him.
                    So, with smiles,
And prayers and holy hymns, and loving words
He laid the burden of the body down,
And slept in Jesus.

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. - Mr. Normand Burr,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Governor Joseph Trumbull,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Miss Catharine Ball,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Richard Ely Collins,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

English

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In Memoriam. - Mr. Normand Burr,

Editor of the "Christian Secretary" for more than twenty years, died at Hartford, December 5th, aged 59.


We knew him as a man of sterling worth,
Whose good example is a legacy
Better than gold for those he leaves behind.

--His inborn piety flowed forth in streams
Of social kindness and domestic love,
Cheering with filial warmth the parents' heart,
And making his own home a pleasant place.

--His was that self-reliant industry,
Smiling at hardship, which develops well
The energies of manhood, and lends strength
To commonwealths.

                    By silent messenger,
A weekly scroll, he strove to spread abroad
The stores of knowledge, and increase the fruits
Of righteousness. Hence is his loss bemoan'd
By many who had never seen h...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Rev. Dr. David Smith,

For many years Pastor of a Church in Durham, Conn., died at Fair Haven, March 3d, 1862, aged 94.


The transcript of a long, unblemish'd life
Replete with happiness and holiness,
Is a fair page to look upon with love
In this world's volume oft defaced by sin,
And marr'd with misery. And he, who laid
His earthly vestments down this day, doth leave
Such tablet for the heart.
                    'Twas good to see
That what he preach'd to others, he portray'd
Before them in example, that the eye
Adding its stronger comment to the ear,
Might lend new impulse to the flock he led
Toward the Great Shepherd's fold.

                *    *    *    *    *

                    Along his path
Sorrows he met, but such as wrought him gain,
And joys t...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Mr. Samuel Tudor,

Died at Hartford, January 29th, 1862, aged 92.


We saw him on a winter's day,
    Beneath the hallowed dome,
Where for so many years his heart
    Had found its Sabbath-home,
Yet not amid his ancient seat
    Or in the accustomed place
Arose his fair, and reverend brow,
    And form of manly grace.

Then Music, through the organ's soul
    Melodious descant gave,
But yet his voice so rich and sweet
    Swell'd not the sacred stave,
The Christmas wreaths o'er arch and nave
    Were lingering still to cheer
His parting visit to the fane
    Which he had help'd to rear.

And flowers were on the coffin-lid
    And o'er his bosom strown,
Fit offering for the friend who loved
    The plants of every zone,
And bade them i...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Samuel G. Ogden, Esq.,

Died at Astoria, New York, April 5th, 1860.


Upon his suffering couch he lay,
    Whose noble form and mind
The stress of fourscore years had tried,
    Yet left a charm behind.
The charm of heaven-born happiness
    Whose beauty may not fade,
The charm of unimpair'd regard
    For all whom God had made.

Upon his suffering couch he lay,
    While sadly gathering there,
Were loved and loving ones, who made
    That honored life their care;
And 'mid the group, a daughter's voice
    Of wondrous sweetness read
Brief portions from the Book Divine,
    As his dictation led.

"Bow down thine ear, Most Merciful,
    Oh, hearken while I speak,
Now in my time of utmost need,
    To Thee alone I seek.
Shew me some token, Lo...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Mr. John Warburton,

Died at Hartford, November, 1861.


The knot of crape upon yon stately door,
And sadness brooding o'er the sun-bright halls,
What do they signify?
                    Death hath been there
Where truth and goodness hand in hand with love
Walk'd for so many years.
                    Death hath been there,
To do mid flowing tears his mighty work,
Extinguishing the tyranny of pain
And taking the immortal essence home
Where it would be.
                    Yet is there left behind
A transcript that we cherish, and a chasm
We have no power to fill. Almost it seems
That we beheld him still, with quiet step
Moving among us, saintly and serene,
Clear-sighted, upright, held in high regard,
Yet meekly unambitious, seeking nought
Of windy honor f...

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