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.

September 1, 1791

June 10, 1865

English

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In Memoriam. - Martha Agnes Bonner,

Child of RobERT BONNER, Esq., died at New York, April 28th, 1859, aged 13 months.


There was a cradling lent us here,
    To cheer our lot,
It was a cherub in disguise,
But yet our dim and earth-bow'd eyes
    Perceiv'd it not.

Its voice was like the symphony
    That lute-strings lend,
Yet tho' our hearts the music hail'd
As a sweet breath of heaven, they fail'd
    To comprehend.

It linger'd till each season fill'd
    Their perfect round,
The vernal bud, the summer-rose,
Autumnal gold, and wintry snows
    Whitening the ground.

But when again reviving Spring
    Thro' flowers would roam,
And the white cherry blossoms stirr'd
Neath the soft wing of chirping bird,
A call from angel-harps was heard,
    "Ch...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Mary Shipman Deming,

Died at Hartford, Nov. 11th, 1839, aged 4 years and 6 months.


The garner'd Jewel of our heart,
    The Darling of our tent!
Cold rains were falling thick and fast,
    When forth from us she went.

The sweetest blossom on our tree,
    When droop'd her fairy head,
We might not lay her 'mid the flowers,
    For all the flowers were dead.

The youngest birdling of our nest,
    Her song from us hath fled;
Yet mingles with a purer strain
    That floats above our head.

We gaze,--her wings we may not see:
    We listen,--all in vain:
But when this wintry life is o'er,
    We'll hear her voice again.

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Miss Alice Beckwith,

Died at Hartford, September 23d, 1859.


The beautiful hath fled
    To join the spirit-train;
Earth interposed with strong array,
Love stretch'd his arms to bar her way,
    All,--all in vain.

There was a bridal hope
    Before her crown'd with flowers;
The orange blossoms took the hue
With which the cypress dank with dew
    Darkeneth our bowers.

Affections strong and warm
    Sprang round her gentle way,
Young Childhood, with a moisten'd eye,
And Friendship's tenderest sympathy
    Watch'd her decay.

Disease around her couch
    Long held a tyrant sway,
Till vanished from her cheek, the rose,
And the fair flesh like vernal snows
    Wasted away.

Yet the dark Angel's touch
    Dissolv'd that dir...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

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. - 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 Caroline L. Griffin,

Died at New York, November 17th, 1861.

WRITTEN ON HER BIRTH-DAY.


The day returns, beloved friend
    When in thy Mother's arms
Thou a fair gift from Heaven wert laid
    In all thine infant charms,
That day, with cloudless sky returns,
    But yet thou art not here
And from the smitten Mother's eye
    Distils the mourner's tear.

The wondrous brightness of thy smile,
    Thy tones of greeting kind,
The love of knowledge that inspired
    Thy strong and ardent mind,
Thy pity for the suffering poor,
    Thy patient zeal to teach
Their children, though in manners rude
    And ignorant in speech,

And all thy many deeds and words
    Of friendship's earnest part,
Are with a never-fading trace
    Depictured on ...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Miss Catharine Ball,

Daughter of Hon. Judge BALL of Hoosick Falls, N.Y., died at the City of Washington, 1862.


Bright sunbeam of a father's heart
    Whose earliest radiance shone
Delightful o'er a mother's eye
Like morning-star in cloudless sky,
    Say, whither hast thou flown?

Fair inmate of a happy home
    Whose love so gently shed
Could a serene enchantment make
And love in stranger bosoms wake,
    Ah, whither art thou fled?

They know, who trust the Saviour's word
    With faith no tear can dim,
That such as bear His spirit here
And do His will in duty's sphere
    Shall rise to dwell with Him.

They know, who feel an Angel near,
    Though hid from mortal sight
And reaching out to her their hand
Shall safer reach that Pleasant La...

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. - 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. - Miss Frances Wyman Tracy,

Adopted daughter of Mrs. WILLIAM TRACY, died at New York, in 1860, aged 17.


O young and beautiful, thy step
    Was light with fairy grace,
And well the music of thy voice
    Accorded with thy face,

And blent with those attractive charms
    How fair it was to see
Thy tenderness for her who fill'd
    A Mother's place to thee.

Yet all the pure and holy ties
    Thus round thy being wove,
They are not lost, they are not dead,
    They have a life above.

What though the sleepless care of love
    Might not avail to save,
And sorrow with her dropping tear
    Keeps vigil o'er thy grave,

Faith hath a rainbow for the cloud,
    A solace for the pain,
A promise from the Book Divine
    To rise, nor part again.

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Miss Jane Penelope Whiting,

Died at Portland, Connecticut, January 1st, 1861.


I think of her unfolding prime,
    Her childhood bright and fair,
The speaking eye, the earnest smile,
    The dark and lustrous hair,

The fondness by a Mother's side
    To cling with docile mind,
Fast in the only sister's hand
    Her own forever twined,

The candor of her trustful youth,
    The heart that freshly wove
Sweet garlands even from thorn-clad bowers,
    Because it dwelt in love,

The stainless life, whose truth and grace
    Made each beholder see
The gladness of a spirit tuned
    To heavenly harmony.

But when this fair New-Year looked forth
    Over the old one's grave,
While bridal pleasures neath her roof
    Their bright infusion gave,<...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Miss Laura Kingsbury,

Died at Hartford, July, 1861.


Faithful and true in duty's sacred sphere,
    How like the summer-lightning hath she fled!
One moment bending o'er the letter'd page,--
    The next reposing with the silent dead.

No more by shaded lamp, or garden fair;--
    Yet hath she left a living transcript here,
Yon helpless orphans will remember her,[1]
    And the young invalid she skilled to cheer;

And he who trusted in her from his birth,
    As to a Mother's love,--and friends who saw
Her goodness seeking no applause from earth,
    But ever steadfast to its heavenly law:

For she, like her of old, with listening ear
Sate at the Saviour's feet and won His plaudit dear.

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. - Miss Sara K. Taylor,

Died at Hartford, October 23d, 1861, aged 20.


                    How beautiful in death
The young and lovely sleeper lies--
Sweet calmness on the close-sealed eyes,
Flowers o'er the snowy neck and brow
Where lustrous curls profusely flow;
If 'twere not for the icy chill
That from her marble hand doth thrill,
And for her lip that gives no sound,
And for the weeping all around,
                    How beautiful were death.

                    How beautiful in life!
Her pure affections heavenward moving,
Her guileless heart so full of loving,
Her joyous smile, her form of grace,
Her clear mind lighting up the face,
And making home a blessed place,
Still breathing thro' the parents' heart
A gladness words could ne'er impart,
A fai...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

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

In Memoriam. - Mr. David F. Robinson,

Died at Hartford, January 26th, 1862, aged 61.


We did not think it would be so;--
                                We kept
The hope-lamp trimm'd and burning. Day by day
There came reports to cheer us;--and we thought
God in his goodness would not take away
So soon, another of that wasting band
Of worthies, whose example in our midst,
Precious and prized, we knew not how to spare.
These were our thoughts and prayers;--
                    But He who reigns
Above the clouds had different purposes.

                *    *    *    *    *

On the low pillow where so late he mourn'd
His gifted first-born, in the prime of days,
Circled by all that makes life beautiful
And full of joy, his honored head is laid,--
The Sire and Son,--ne'er to b...

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Mr. George Beach,

Died at Hartford, May 4th, 1860.


Aye, robe yourselves in black, light messengers
Whose letter'd faces to the people tell
The pulse and pressure of the passing hour.
'Tis fitting ye should sympathize with them,
And tint your tablets with a sable hue
Who bring them tidings of a loss so great.

What have they lost?
                    An upright man, who scorn'd
All subterfuge, who faithful to his trust
Guarded the interests they so highly prized,
With power and zeal unchang'd, from youth to age.

Yet there's a sadder sound of bursting tears
From woe-worn helpless ones, from widow'd forms
O'er whom he threw a shelter, for his name
Long mingled with their prayers, both night and morn.
The Missionary toward the setting sun
Will miss his l...

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

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