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 yield thee back, with sound of holy hymns,
Flowers in thy hand, and bosom,--parting gifts
Of Spring, that makes our earth so beautiful,
Faintly prefiguring thine eternal gain
Of flowers that never fade and skies that need
Not sun nor moon to light them.
                    So farewell,
Our grief is selfish, yet it hath its way,
Nor can we stand beside thine open grave
Without a tear.
                    Yet still doth chasten'd faith
Ask help of God, to render back with praise
A soul to which He gave the victory.

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. - Miss Caroline L. Griffin,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Caleb Hazen Talcott,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Herbert Foss,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam. - Annie Seymour Robinson,

Lydia Howard Sigourney, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

In Memoriam. - Mrs. Margaret Walbridge,

Died at Saratoga, N.Y., June 2d, 1862, aged 35.

WRITTEN ON HER BIRTH-DAY.


This was her birth-day here,
    When summer's latest flowers
Were kindling to their flush and prime,
As if they felt how short the time
    In these terrestrial bowers.

She hath a birth-day now
    No hastening night that knows,
She hath a never-ending year
Which feels no blight of autumn sere,
    Nor chill of wintry snows.

She hath no pain or fear,
    But by her Saviour's side
Expansion finds for every power;
And knowledge her angelic dower
    An ever-flowing tide.

They sorrow, who were called
    From her sweet smile to part,
Who wore her love-links fondly twined
Like woven threads of gold refined
    Around their inmost ...

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 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. Morris Collins,

Died at Hartford, May 19th, 1862.


Frail stranger at the gate of life,
    Too weak to grasp its key,
O'er whom the Sun on car of gold
Hath but a few times risen and roll'd,
    Unnoticed still by thee,--

To whom the toil of breath is new,
    In this our vale of time
Whose feet are yet unskill'd to tread
The grassy carpet round thee spread
    At the soft, vernal prime,--

Deep sympathy and pitying care
    Regard thy helpless moan,
And 'neath thy forehead arching high
Methinks, the brightly opening eye
    Doth search for something gone.

Yon slumberer 'mid the snowy flowers,
    With young, unfrosted hair,
Awakes not at the mournful sound
Of bird-like voices murmuring round
    "Why sleeps our Mother there?<...

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

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