The Autobiography of Jane Fairfield: Embracing a Few Select Poems by Sumner Lincoln FairfieldBazin and Ellsworth, 1860 - 328 pages |
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AUTOBIOG OF JANE FAIRFIELD EMB Jane Frazee B. 1810 Fairfield,Sumner Lincoln 1803-1844 Fairfield No preview available - 2016 |
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alguazil beautiful began bliss bosom Boston Boston Athenæum breath bright broken hopes brow Charlestown charming cheerful child comfortable Cuba Daniel Webster dark daughter dead dear death deep delight despair dream dying bride earth fair Fairfield fate father fears feel felt flowers friends Genevieve Genevra genius gentleman gleam gloom glory happiness hastened hath heard heart heaven holy hope hour husband Inez James Brown John Frazee journey lady leave letter light lived in ethereal living lonely look marriage melancholy mind morning mother nature never night noble o'er pain passed Petrarch poem poet Pompeii poor pride Prince Achille Murat returned scenes seemed sigh smile soft solitude soon sorrow soul spirit suffering sweet tears thee thing thou thought tomb took Torquato Tasso uncle voice wave wild York young Zulma
Popular passages
Page 7 - She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.
Page 121 - God! From this primeval altar — the green and virgin sod — The humble homage that my soul in gratitude would pay To Thee ! whose shield has guarded me through all my wandering way.
Page 197 - Thy beautiful illusions, though the soil Of disappointment yet is on our souls. Thou El Dorado of the poor man's dream! Sire of repentance ! child of vain desires! The bleeding heart clings to thee when all hope Is madness ; o'er our thoughts thou ever hold'st Eternal empire ; and thou dost console The felon in his cell, the galley slave, The exile and the wanderer o'er the earth, And pour'st the balm of transitory peace E'en on the heart that sighs o'er kindred guilt.
Page 66 - THE UNKNOWN GRAVE. THERE is a little lonely grave Which no one comes to see, The foxglove and red orchis wave Their welcome to the bee. There never falls the morning sun, It lies beneath the wall, But there when weary day is done The lights of sunset fall, Flushing the warm and crimson air, As life and hope were present there.
Page 208 - This loss convinces me that I have nothing now left worth living for, since the strongest cord of my life is broken.
Page 208 - Tis written in thy large dark eyes, Fill'd with unbidden tears ; The passionate paleness on thy cheek, Belying thy few years. A child, yet not the less thou art One of the gifted hand and heart, Whose deepest hopes and fears Are omen-like : the poet's dower Is even as the prophet's power.
Page 218 - Forever visit thee ; and morn and eve Dawn first, and linger longest on thy tombs Crowned with their wreaths of love, and rendering back From their wrought columns all the glorious beams That herald morn, or bathe in trembling light The calm and holy brow of shadowy eve. Empire of pallid shades ! though thou art near The noisy traffic and thronged intercourse Of man, yet stillness sleeps, with drooping eyes And meditative brow...
Page 198 - And ever will be while earth's ills prevail Over earth's happiness ; it tells she strove With silent, secret, unrequited love. It matters not its history ; love has wings Like lightning, swift and fatal, and it springs Like a wild flower where it is least expected, Existing whether cherish'd or rejected ; Living with only but to be content, Hopeless, for love is its own element, — Requiring nothing so that it may be The martyr of its fond fidelity. A mystery art thou, thou mighty one ! We speak...
Page 240 - And, mid the stillness of the night-wateh dim, Attendant spirits seem to hear and smile ! Hark ! hath it ceased ? The vestal seeks her cell, And reads her heart — a melancholy tale ! A song of happier years, whose echoes swell O'er her lost love, like pale bereavement's wail. Ave Maria ! let our prayers ascend From them whose holy offices afford No...
Page 240 - For them whose holy offices afford No joy in heaven — on earth without a friend — That true though faded image of the Lord ! For them in vain the face of nature glows, For them in vain the sun in glory burns, The hollow breast consumes in fiery woes, And meets despair and death where'er it turns. Ave Maria ! in the deep pine wood, On the clear stream and o'er the azure sky Bland midnight smiles, and starry solitude Breathes hope in every breeze that wanders by, Ave Maria ! may our last hour come...