The Mourner's Chaplet: An Offering of Sympathy for Bereaved Friends. Selected from American Poets |
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Page iv
... speak , " through him . Impressed with sentiments such as these with emo- tions chastened by grief , and a heart tranquillized through the utterance of these expounders of the hu- man heart - the Editor binds together these Gems of ...
... speak , " through him . Impressed with sentiments such as these with emo- tions chastened by grief , and a heart tranquillized through the utterance of these expounders of the hu- man heart - the Editor binds together these Gems of ...
Page 40
... Speak , and her bitter sorrowings shall cease : Come back to me , my child ! Come but in dreams : let me once more behold thee , As in thy hours of buoyancy and glee , And one brief moment in my arms enfold thee : Beloved , I will not ...
... Speak , and her bitter sorrowings shall cease : Come back to me , my child ! Come but in dreams : let me once more behold thee , As in thy hours of buoyancy and glee , And one brief moment in my arms enfold thee : Beloved , I will not ...
Page 42
... speak , And dry the tear that channels her smooth cheek ! But in their hearts - unlinked with thoughts that grieve- The fadeless memory of the lost one leave , A holy vision Love may ponder on , When all the bitterness of woe is gone ...
... speak , And dry the tear that channels her smooth cheek ! But in their hearts - unlinked with thoughts that grieve- The fadeless memory of the lost one leave , A holy vision Love may ponder on , When all the bitterness of woe is gone ...
Page 49
... speak of thee at eventide , When , in their watchfulness , the pure stars glide Above thy narrow bed , And when , alas ! shall come the morning's gleam , Bringing all beauty unto leaf and stream , Yet reaching not the dead . I will ...
... speak of thee at eventide , When , in their watchfulness , the pure stars glide Above thy narrow bed , And when , alas ! shall come the morning's gleam , Bringing all beauty unto leaf and stream , Yet reaching not the dead . I will ...
Page 73
... Speak of me , when the summer day is bright With glorious sunbeams , and the golden light Streams through the lattice of my own green bower ; Let me be there , in that rejoicing hour , At least in name . Speak of me , when the ...
... Speak of me , when the summer day is bright With glorious sunbeams , and the golden light Streams through the lattice of my own green bower ; Let me be there , in that rejoicing hour , At least in name . Speak of me , when the ...
Common terms and phrases
angel ANNA CORA MOWATT beauty BEREAVED bitter blessed blest bliss bloom bosom breast breath breeze bright brow budding graces calm charm cheek cherub child clasped cold dark dark at noon dead dear death death angelic dreams dust earth EARTH'S CHILDREN faded fair fair brow feel flowers fond forever gazed gentle gloom gone grave grief happy hath hear heart heaven heavenly holy hope hour infant land art life's light lips live lone look memory mother mourn N. P. WILLIS ne'er never nevermore o'er pale passed peace pillow prayer pure rest rocky steps rose round seraph shed shining sigh silent sing sister skies sleep slumber smile soft sorrow soul spirit spring stars strange angelic sweet tears tender thee thine eye thou art thought tomb tone vision voice wake watched wave weary weep wild WILLIAM LEGGETT wings young
Popular passages
Page 25 - And with them the Being Beauteous Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies.
Page 61 - He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. My Lord has need of these flowerets gay, The Reaper said, and smiled : Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child.
Page 24 - When the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight...
Page 61 - Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child. 'They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.
Page 50 - MOTHER, how still the baby lies ! I cannot hear his breath ; I cannot see his laughing eyes — They tell me this is death. My little work I thought to bring, And sat down by his bed, And pleasantly I tried to sing — They hushed me — he is dead. They say that he again will rise, More beautiful than now ; That God will bless him in the skies — 0, mother, tell me how...
Page 51 - O, yes, mamma ! how very gay Its wings of starry gold ! And see ! it lightly flies away Beyond my gentle hold. O, mother, now I know full well, If God that worm can change, And draw it from this broken cell, On golden wings to range, — How beautiful will brother be, When God shall give him wings, Above this dying world to flee, And live with heavenly things !
Page 20 - I cannot make him dead ! His fair sunshiny head Is ever bounding round my study chair ; Yet when my eyes, now dim With tears, I turn to him, The vision vanishes — he is not there...
Page 60 - I have nought that is fair?" saith he ; " Have nought but the bearded grain ? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again.
Page 83 - Should the .visions which hope spreads in light to thine eye, Like the tints of the rainbow, but brighten to fly, Then turn, and, through tears of repentant regret " Look aloft " to the sun that is never to set. Should they who are dearest, the son of thy heart, The wife of thy bosom, in sorrow depart, "Look aloft" from the darkness and dust of the tomb, To that soil where
Page 20 - Closed are his eyes; cold is his forehead fair; My hand that marble felt; O'er it in prayer I knelt; Yet my heart whispers that — he is not there ! I cannot make him dead!