Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick was an American poet of the 19th century. Not much is known about her early life, but her poetry was well-regarded and she became known for her emotional and heartfelt verses. She contributed to various periodicals and was part of the literary scene of her time. Her works often focused on themes of love, nature, and the human experience. Despite her contributions, detailed biographical information about Sherrick remains sparse.

English

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A Memory.

Amid my treasures once I found
    A simple faded flower;
A flower with all its beauty fled,
    The darling of an hour.

With bitterness I gazed awhile,
    Then flung it from my sight;
For with it all came back to me
    the pain and heedless blight.

But, moved with pity and regret
    I took it up again;
For oh, so long and wearily
    In darkness it had lain.

Ah, purple pansy, once I kissed
    Your dewy petals fair;
For then, indeed, I had no thought
    Of earthly pain or care.

Your faded petals now I touch
    With sacred love and awe;
For never will my heart kneel down
    To earthly will or law.

Your velvet beauty still is dear,
    Though faded now you seem;
You drooped and died, yet still yo...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

A Shell.

Oh, take this shell, this pretty thing
    With tinted waves of pearly red;
Hold close your ear and hear it sing,
    Then tell me what its voice hath said.
    A song of surges deep and strong,
    A song of summer sweet and long,
    A sound of storm and wind and rain,
    A sound of joy--a glad refrain.

O plaything of the idle sea,
    Whence come these changing tints of thine?
Have sunset clouds looked down on thee
    And stained thee with their hues divine?
    Oh, tell the secrets thou must know
    Of clouds above and waves below;
    Oh, whisper of the bending sky
    And ocean caves where jewels lie.

O beauteous sea-shell, tinged with red,
    What dost thou know; what canst thou tell?
Unto what mysteries are thou wed,
    ...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

A Sonnet.

Sweet summer queen, with trailing robe of green,
What spell has thou to bind the heart to thee?
Thy throne is built upon the sun-lit sea,
Where break the waves in clouds of silver sheen
And oft at dawn like some resplendent queen,
Thou sittest on the hills in majesty;
And all the flowers wake at thy decree.
But now farewell to all thy joys serene;
The autumn comes with swift-winged, silent flight,
And he will woo thee with his fiery breath;
In crimson robes and hues of flashing gold
He'll clothe thee, and thy beauty in the night
Will take a richer glow.    But wintry death
Will come and wrap thee in his fold.

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

A Sunbeam.

The sun was hid all day by clouds,
    The rain fell softly down;
A cold gray mist hung o'er the earth,
    And veiled the silent town.

Behind the clouds a sunbeam crept
    With restless wings of gold;
The skies above were bright and warm,
    The earth below was cold.

It glanced along the heavy clouds,
    Then sought to glide between;
But ah! they gathered closer still,
    With fierce and angry mien.

The dancing ray grew strangely still,
    Just like some weary bird,
That droops upon a lonely shore,
    And sings its song unheard.

For on the earth the drooping flowers
    Were longing for the light;
And children with their watching eyes
    Could trace no sunbeam's flight.

At last an angel, wand'ring by,

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Autumn Flowers.

O crimson-tined flowers
    That live when others die,
What thoughtless hand unloving
    Could ever pass you by?

You are the last bright blossoms,
    The summer's after-glow,
When all her early children
    Have faded long ago.

Sweet golden-rod and xenia
    And crimson marigold,
What dreams of autumn splendor
    Your velvet leaves unfold.

Long, long ago the violets
    Have closed their sweet blue eyes,
And lain with pale, dead faces
    Beneath the summer skies.

And on their graves you blossom
    With leaves of gold and red,
And yet--how soon forever
    Your beauty will be fled.

The frost will come to kill you
    The snows will wrap you round;
And you will sleep forgotten
    Upon the fro...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Beatrice Cenci.

O beautiful woman, too well we know
The terrible weight of thy woman's woe,
So great that the world, in its careless way,
Remembered thy beauty for more than a day.
In the name of the truth from thy brow is torn
The crown of redemption thou long hast worn,
And into the valley of sin thou art hurled
To be trampled anew by the feet of the world.

The beautiful picture is thine no more
That hangs in the palace on Italy's shore;
The tear-stained eyes where the shadow lies,
Like a darksome cloud in the summer skies,
Will tell thy story to men no more,
For all untrue is the tale of yore;
And the far-famed picture that hangs on the wall
Is a painter's fancy--that is all.

Italia's shore is a land of light
Where the sunlight of day drowns the shadows of...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Beyond the Sunset are the Hills of God.

Gleaming folds of read and gold linger in the western sky;
Fleecy clouds of purest tint, mingle with the purple dye.

Faintly to the dreamy mind comes the sound of earthly life;
Far beyond the shining banks, cometh rest from worldly strife.

Through the sunset's misty veil, now we look with longing eyes,
To behold more beauteous sight than the evening's glor'ous skies.

Slowly now the red banks part, showing what is hidden there;
Flushing hills of shadowy light, piercing through the dark'ning air.

Like the rainbow's promise clear, God has placed His emblem there,
Giving life and trust to all, love unbounded, rich and rare.

Glimpses of a life beyond come to each faint, weary heart,
And we long for that bright shore where the loved ones ne'er shall part.
...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Beyond.

Beyond yon dim old mountain's shadowy height,
    The restless sun droops low his grand old face;
While downward sweeps the trembling veil of night,
    To hide the earth; the frost king's filmy lace
Rests on the mountain's hoary snow-crowned head,
    And adds to it a softened grace; the light
Which dies afar in faint and fading red
    In purple shadows circles near.

                    The flight
Of birds across the vast and silent plains
    Awakes the echoes of the sleeping earth;
Of all the summer beauty naught remains,
    There come no tidings of the spring's glad birth.

Beyond the valley and far-off height
    The birds in wandering do take their way;
Ah, whither is their strange and trackless flight
    Amid the dying embers of the day;

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Catching the Sunbeams.

Catching the sunbeams, oh, wee dimpled child,
    Gleefully laughing because they are bright;
Knowing, ah! never, my beautiful pet,
    Ne'er can our fingers imprison the light.

Beautiful sunshine, oh! fair is the light
    Falling on earth from the heavens above;
Beautiful childhood, oh! glad is the sight
    Filling the world with its measure of love.

Playing with sunbeams, oh, all of us, pet,
    Toy with the treasures, so shining and bright;
Catching the sunshine we never may hold,
    Trying like you, to imprison the light.

Sunbeams that glitter and sparkle and shine--
    Life is so full of the beautiful light;
Gilding the wings of each fleet-footed day
    Only to fade in the shadows of night.

Playing with sunbeams, oh! all of us...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Easter.

Let all the flowers wake to life;
    Let all the songsters sing;
Let everything that lives on earth
    Become a joyous thing.

Wake up, thou pansy, purple-eyed,
    And greet the dewy spring;
Swell out, ye buds, and o'er the earth
    Thy sweetest fragrance fling.

Why dost thou sleep, sweet violet?
    The earth has need of thee;
Wake up and catch the melody
    That sounds from sea to sea.

Ye stars, that dwell in noonday skies,
    Shine on, though all unseen;
The great White Throne lies just beyond,
    The stars are all between.

Ring out, ye bells, sweet Easter bells,
    And ring the glory in;
Ring out the sorrow, born of earth--
    Ring out the stains of sin.

O banners wide, that sweep the sky,
    ...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Falling Leaves.

There was a sound of music low--
    An undertone of laughter;
The song was done, and can't you guess
    The words that followed after?

Like autumn leaves sometimes they fall--
    The words that burn and falter;
And is it true they too must fade
    Upon Love's sacred alter?

From memory each one of us
    Can cull some sweetest treasure;
Yet golden days, like golden leaves,
    Give pain as well as pleasure.

There was a sound of music low--
    An undertone of laughter:
The sun was gone--yet heaven knew
    The stars that followed after.

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Irene.

The years are slowly creeping on
    Beneath the summer sun;
Yet, still in silent love and peace
    Our lives serenely run.
Beyond the mist that veils the coming years
I see no gathering clouds, nor falling tears.

Beside life's river we have stood
    And lingered side by side;
Where royal roses bloomed and blushed
    And gleamed the lily's pride,
And happily there we've plucked the sweet wild flowers
while heedless passed away the sunny hours.

Irene, thy sunny face is lit
    With all the hope of youth;
God grant thy heart may never know
    Aught but the purest truth.
Keep in thy soul its faith and trusting love
Until they e'en must bloom in heaven above.

Beside the river still we stay
    And swift the hours fly by;
W...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Life.

A dewy flower, bathed in crimson light,
May touch the soul--a pure and beauteous sight;
A golden river flashing 'neath the sun,
May reach the spot where life's dark waters run;
Yet, when the sun is gone, the splendor dies,
With drooping head the tender flower lies.
And such is life; a golden mist of light,
A tangled web that glitters in the sun;
When shadows come, the glory takes its flight,
The treads are dark and worn, and life is done.
Oh! tears, that chill us like the dews of eve,
Why come unbid--why should we ever grieve?
Why is it, though life hath its leaves of gold,
The book each day some sorrow must unfold!
What human heart with truth can dare to say
No grief is mine--this is a perfect day?
Oh! poet, take your harp of gold and sing,
And all the e...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

May.

The world is full of gems to-day,
    The world is full of love;
The earth is strewn with star-gemmed flowers
    That fall from skies above.

The sunshine is a stream of gold
    That flows from flower to flower;
The shadows are but passing thoughts
    That mark each shining hour.

The pansy nods her purple head,
    And sings a silent song;
Her life is full of sunny hours--
    The days are never long.

The rose uplifts her sun-crowned head;
    She is the queen of love;
Her eyes behold the hidden stars
    That glow in skies above.

There is a fragrance in the air,
    A glory in the sky;
Oh, who would sigh for other days,
    Or grieve for things gone by?

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Memory

A treasured link of shining pearls,
    A by-gone melody,
A shower of tears with smiles between--
    And this is memory.
A thing so light a breath of air
    May waft its life away;
A thing so dark that moments of pain
    Seem like some endless day.

A careless word may wound the heart,
    And quickly it may die;
Yet in the seas of memory
    Forever it will lie.
And sometimes when the tide rolls back
    Its waves of joy and pain,
That careless word, though long forgot,
    Will wound the heart again.

The restless seas of memory
    Are vast and deep and wide;
And every deed that we can know
    Sleeps in that tireless tide.
Upon the thoughtless lives of men
    Its waves in mockery roll;
And sweep a might of bitter...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Moonlight.

Oh, what so subtle as the spell
    The silvery moonlight weaves?
Oh, what so sad and what so glad,
    And what so soon deceives.

A vision of the long ago--
    Long years of pain between;
A mocking dream of happier days--
    A veil of silver sheen.

A passing gleam of falling stars--
    An idle summer's dream;
The sudden waking of a heart--
    Things are not as they seem.

Oh, silver moon, indeed you hold
    The secrets of the heart;
And none can know and none can guess
    The mystery of thy art.

A silver length of rippling waves,
    A glance from happy eyes;
A strain of music low and sweet--
    The heart in rapture lies.

Yet, ah, how faithless are the vows
    Made 'neath the summer moon;
As c...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

My Queen.

A fair sweet blossom is born for you,
    A beautiful rose, my queen!
And never was flower so fair as this,
    Oh, never so fair, I ween!
A banner is hung in the western sky
Of colors that flash ere they fade and die;
And the rippling waves where the waters run
Are stained with the gold of the summer sun;
The world is so fair for you, my queen,
    The world is so fair and true;
And the rose that blossoms to-day, my own,
    Is the love that I have for you.

The grasses that spring at your feet, my queen,
    Could whisper all day in your ear;
But I stand dumb at your side, my own,
    Stilled by my love's own fear.
Oh, what would you know of my love's sweet will
The heart speaks most when the lips are still;
And the love that is filling my sou...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

Never.

Two dark-brown eyes looked into mine
    Two eyes with restless quiver;
A gentle hand crept in my own
    Beside the gleaming river.

"Ah, sweet," I murmured, passing sad,
    You will forget me ever?"
The dear, brown eyes their answer gave;
    "I will forget you NEVER."

Up in the leaves above our heads
    The winds were softly dying;
Down in the river at our feet
    The lilies pale were lying.
The winds their mournful murmur sent:
    You will forget me ever?
The lilies raised their drooping heads:
    We will forget you never.

A spell hung o'er the numbered hours
    That chained each thought and feeling;
My heart was filled with idle dreams
    That sent my sense reeling.
Once more I murmured, "Well, I know
    Y...

Fannie Isabelle Sherrick

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