The Kings and Queens of England with Other Poems by Mary Ann H. T. Bigelow
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Mary Ann H. T. Bigelow >> The Kings and Queens of England with Other Poems
Even so is life's day,
Like a fair morn in May,
With hope's bright bow of promise it cheers;
But long before night,
The sun that so bright
In the morning had shone, disappears.
Do not then I entreat,
My beloved Margaret,
Be content with this world for thy portion;
Let ambition soar _higher_,
E'en _above_ earth aspire,
And to God give thy heart's true devotion.
April 29, 1853.
REPLY TO A TOAST,
SENT BY MR. W. TO THE LADIES OF WAYLAND, AT THEIR FAIR HELD ON MAY-DAY.
Many, _many_ kind thanks from the Waylanders fair,
Who are sorry, quite sorry you could not be there,
To receive their warm greeting, partake of their cheer,
And repaid by their smiles for your wishes sincere.
That health and content may your footsteps attend,
Believe me, dear sir, is the wish of your friend.
May 2, 1853.
TO MR. C.R.
FOR MANY YEARS DEPRIVED OF SIGHT.
They say the sun is shining
In all his splendor now,
And clouds in graceful drapery,
Are sailing to an fro.
That birds of brilliant plumage,
Are soaring on the wing;
Exulting in the daylight,
Rejoicing as they sing.
They tell me too that roses,
E'en in _my_ pathway lie;
And decked in rich apparel,
Attract the passers by.
They say the sun when setting,
Is glorious to behold;
And sheds on all at parting,
A radiant crown of gold.
And then the night's pale empress,
With all her glittering train,
The vacant throne ascending,
Resumes her peaceful reign.
That she in queenly beauty,
Subdued yet silvery light,
Makes scarcely less enchanting
Than day, the sober night.
But sights like these so cheering,
Alas, I cannot see!
The daylight and the darkness
Are both alike to me.
Yet there's a world above us,
So beautiful and fair,
That nothing here can equal,
And nought with it compare.
There, in a blaze of glory,
Amidst a countless throng,
The Saviour smiles complacent,
While listening to their song.
Ten thousand times ten thousand,
Their cheerful voices raise,
While golden harps in harmony
Are tuned to sound the praise
Of Him the blest deliverer,
Who conquered when he fell;
The man of many sorrows,
The _Great Immanuel_.
But stop--I dare not venture
Too far on holy ground;
Its _heights_ are too exalted,
Its _depths_ are too profound.
Yet may I be permitted,
When this brief life is past,
The hope in yon bright heaven,
To find my home at last.
When cleansed from all pollution,
From sin and sorrow free,
I, with unclouded vision,
My Saviour God may see.
Brooklyn, May, 1853.
TO MY MISSIONARY FRIENDS,
MR. AND MRS. I.G. BLISS.
Why, dear friends, oh! tell us wherefore
You're so anxious to be gone;
Is the country late adopted
Dearer to you than your own?
Have you found a father, mother,
In that distant clime to love,
Or a sister, friend, or brother,
Better than the long-tried prove?
"Oh, no! believe us, no such motives
Prompt us to tempt old ocean's wave;
We go among the poor benighted,
Perhaps to find an early grave.
"Ah! you know not half our anguish--
Only those who _feel_ can tell--
When we think of the sad parting,
And that solemn word--farewell.
"But while lingering, souls are dying,
Souls that Jesus came to save;
And of such a priceless value,
That for them his life he gave.
"Trials great no doubt await us
In that distant home of ours;
Work requiring so much labor,
As to exceed our utmost powers.
"But He who said 'Go preach the gospel,'
All powerful is, to aid, defend;
'Lo I am with you always,' said he,
'And will be even to the end.'
"With such command, and such a promise,
Sure our path of duty's plain;
Do not then, dear friends, persuade us
Longer with _thee_ to remain."
Go then, go! we'll not detain you,
We dare not ask your longer stay;
And may winds and waves of ocean,
Waft you safely on your way.
They who all forsake for Jesus,
Father, mother, country, home,
Here an hundred fold are promised,
And eternal life to come.
Go then, go! but when far distant,
Bear us sometimes on your mind;
When for others interceding,
Forget not those you leave behind.
And when your earthly warfare's ended,
And you have laid your armor down,
May souls of poor benighted Asia
Add _many_ stars to your bright crown.
TO MY HUSBAND.
Just two-and-forty years have passed[5]
Since we, a youthful pair,
Together at the altar stood,
And mutual vows pledged there.
Our lives have been a checkered scene,
Since that midsummer's eve;
Much good received our hearts to cheer,
And much those hearts to grieve.
Children confided to our care,
Hath God in kindness given,
Of whom five still on earth remain,
And two, we trust, in heaven.
How many friends of early days,
Have fallen by our side;
Shook by some blast, like autumn leaves
They withered, drooped, and died.
But still permitted, hand in hand
Our journey we pursue;
And when we're weary, cheered by glimpse
Of "_better land_" in view.
We may not hope in this low world,
Much longer to remain,
But oh! there's rapture in the thought,
That we may meet again.
[5] July 14, 1853.