In Memoriam. - Miss. Emily B. Parish,

Formerly a Teacher in Hartford, died at Cleveland, Ohio, March 12th, 1862.


Teachers,--she is not here
    With the first breath of Spring
Her aid to your devoted band
With cheering smile and ready hand
    Untiringly to bring.

Pupils,--her guiding voice,
    Her sweetly warbled strain
Urging your spirits to be wise
With daily, tuneful harmonies
    Ye shall not hear again.

Parents,--and loving friends
    The parents' heart who shared,
Give thanks to that abounding grace
Which led her through the Christian race,
    To find its high reward.

Lover,--the spell is broke
    That o'er your life she wove,
Look to her flitting robes that gleam
So white, beyond cold Jordan's stream,
    Look to the Land of Love.

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. - Caleb Hazen Talcott,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Hon. Thomas S. Williams,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Miss Caroline L. Griffin,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

English

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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. - Miss Delia Woodruff Godding,

A faithful Teacher of the young from early years, and recently the Principal of a Female Seminary and Boarding School at St. Anthony, Minnesota, died suddenly of an attack of fever, while on a visit at her paternal home in Vermont, September, 15th, 1861.


Thine earnest life is over, sainted Friend!
And hush'd the teaching voice that gladly pour'd
Knowledge and goodness o'er the plastic mind.
--Full many a pupil of thy varied lore
Amid thine own New-England's elm-crowned vales
Holds thee in tenderness of grateful thought,
And far away in the broad-featured west
Where the strong Sire of waters robes in green
The shores of Minnesota, comes a wail
From youthful bands expecting thy return,
To guide them, as the shepherd leads the lamb.

They watch in vain.
       ...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Mrs. Emily Ellsworth,

Wife of Govenor ELLSWORTH, and daughter of Noah Webster, LL.D., died at Hartford, August 23d, 1861.


Not with the common forms of funeral grief
We mourn for her who in the tomb this day
Taketh her narrow couch. For we have need
Of such example as she set us here,
The sphere of christian duty beautified
By gifts of intellect, and taste refined;
A precious picture, set in frame of gold
And hung on high.

                    Hers was a life that bore
The test of scrutiny, and they who saw
Its inner ministration, day by day,
Bore fullest witness to its symmetry,
Its delicate tissues, and unwavering crown
Of piety. A heritage of fame,
And the rich culture of her early years
Wrought no contempt for woman's household care,
But gave it dignity. Or...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Miss Elizabeth Brinley,

Died at Hartford, September 28th, 1862.


We miss her at the chancel-side,
    For when we last drew near,
The holy Eucharist to share,
She, with the warmth of praise and prayer
    Was meekly kneeling here.

We miss her when the liberal hand
    Relieves a thirsting soil,
And when the Blessed Church demands
Assistance for the mission bands
    That on her frontier toil.

We miss her 'mid the gather'd train
    Of children[1] young and poor,
Whom year by year she deign'd to teach
With faithful zeal and patient speech,
    And hope that anchor'd sure.

Her couch is in the ancestral tomb
    With Putnam's honor'd dust,
The true in word, the bold in deed,
A bulwark in his Country's need,
    A tower of strength and tru...

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