Kate Harrington Poems

A hundred years ago to-day
A barren wild our borders lay;
Our stately forests grandly stood
Wrapped in majestic solitude.
...

When sin came among us, and Eden was lone,
The pitying Father was kind ;
For He robbed not the woman of one melting tone,
Nor bade her leave beauty behind.
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All pale, yet beautiful in grief, she laid her down to rest,
And her head was softly pillowed on a loving sister's breast ;
A flower, exhaling to the skies, yet scarce of earth a part,
She was fading, drooping, dying, ―dying of a broken heart.
...

Think of me, darling ! My poor heart seems breaking,
Saddened and crushed, by thy constant forsaking.
Never an hour but thy face is before me,
Never a day but I bend fondly o'er thee,
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I wait thy coming, honored friend,
With tenderness and tears,
For memory's tapers brighter burn
As age steals on, until I yearn
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Oh, why was he taken in Life's early morning,
Your only ―your darling ―your beautiful boy ?
Why torn from your arms without whisper or warning,
The babe that you counted a ' well-spring of joy'?
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In the voyage of life, 'mid its tempest and gale,
The glow of one beacon has never grown pale ;
It burst into flame at the hour of my birth,
And has since been the brightest, most steadfast on earth.
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I have learned a simple legend,
Never found in books of lore,
Copied not from old tradition,
Nor from classics read of yore ;
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You may talk of the exquisite paintings
You guard with the tenderest care ;
Of your statues of Parian marble,
So faultless, so perfect, so rare ;
...

Beautiful flower, with petals white,
That only blooms in the hush of night,
That never reveals to the sunlight bold
The inner beauty thy petals hold,
...