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,--
    For us, the pilgrim race.

Praise,--praise for her,--though love and grief
    Still mournful vigil kept,--
The tear-wet incense He will take
Who at the grave, for friendship's sake,
    In holy sadness wept.

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. - Mrs. Charles N. Cadwallader,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Richard Ely Collins,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Denison Olmsted, Ll.D.,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Mrs. Elizabeth Harris,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

English

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In Memoriam. - Miss Anna Freeman,

Died at Mansfield, Connecticut, February, 1861.


The world seems drearier when the good depart,
The just, the truthful, such as never made
Self their chief aim, nor strove with glozing words
To counterfeit a love they never felt;
But steadfast and serene--to Friendship gave
Its sacred scope, and ne'er from Duty shrank,
Though sternest toil and care environ it.
These, loving others better than themselves,
Fulfill the gospel rule, and taste a bliss
While here below, unknown to selfish souls,
And when they die, must find the clime where dwells
A God of truth, as tend the kindred streams
To their absorbing ocean.
                    Such was she
Who left us yesterday. Her speaking smile
Her earnest footstep hastening to give aid
Or sympathy, her re...

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. - Miss Margaret C. Brown,

Died at Hartford, May 12th, 1860.


Gone, pure in heart! unto thy fitting home,
Where nought of ill can follow. O'er thy life
There swept no stain, and o'er its placid close
No shadow.
                    As for us, who saw thee move
From childhood onward, loving and serene,
To every duty faithful, we who feel
The bias toward self too often make
Our course unequal, or beset with thorns,
Give thanks to Him, the Giver of all good,
For what thou wert, but most for what thou art.

                *    *    *    *    *

Thy meek and reverent nature cheer'd the heart
Of hoary Age even in thine early bloom,
And with sweet tenderness of filial care,
And perfect sympathy, thy shielding arm
Pillow'd a Mother's head, till life went out.
We y...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Mr. John A. Taintor,

Died at Hartford, on Saturday Evening, November 15th, 1862, aged 62 years.


A sense of loss is on us. One hath gone
    Whose all-pervading energy doth leave
A void and silence 'mid the haunts of men
    And desolation for the hearts that grieve
In his fair mansion, so bereft and lone,
Whence the inspiring smile, and cheering voice have flown.

Those too there are who eloquently speak
    Of his firm friendship, not without a tear,
Of its strong power to undergird the weak
    And hold the faltering feet in duty's sphere,
While in the cells of want, a broken trust
In bitterness laments, that he is of the dust.

In foreign climes, with patriotic eye
    He sought what might his Country's welfare aid,
And the rich flocks of Spain, at his behest

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. - Mrs. Joseph Morgan,

Died at Hartford, August, 1859.


I saw her overlaid with many flowers,
Such as the gorgeous summer drapes in snow,
Stainless and fragrant as her memory.

Blent with their perfume came the pictur'd thought
Of her calm presence,--of her firm resolve
To bear each duty onward to its end,--
And of her power to make a home so fair,
That those who shared its sanctities deplore
The pattern lost forever.

                    Many a friend,
And none who won that title laid it down,
Muse on the tablet that she left behind,
Muse,--and give thanks to God for what she was,
And what she is;--for every pain hath fled
That with a barb'd and subtle weapon stood
Between the pilgrim and the promised Land.
But the deep anguish of the filial tear
We s...

Lydia Howard Sigourney