Kate Harrington Poems

She perished in beauty,
As withers a rose
When its delicate petals
Begin to unclose.
...

Ho ! thou traveler on life's highway,
Moving carelessly along ;
Pausing not to note the darkness
Lowering o'er the struggling throng ;
...

Touch the harp with gentlest finger, let a strain of tenderest feeling
Pulsate through its flowing numbers, all its sweetest chords revealing.
Let the tone be low and trembling, as if seraphs hovered nigh ;
Music such as floods the portal of the clime we call immortal :
...

' Mamma, tell me 'bout Good Friday,'
Lisped the prattler at my knee,
With his sparkling eyes uplifted,
Laughing in his roguish glee.
...

A welcome back to her who went
Abroad for her own pleasure,
Yet generously sent her friends
An overflowing measure !
...

Weep, weep, O my country ! the cord has been severed
That bound the great heart of a statesman to thee ;
The spirit has fled that so nobly endeavored
To save from Disunion the land of the Free.
...

Dear friend, 'twas not thy word of praise,
Bestowed upon my simple lays,
That woke, as if by magic art,
A thrill responsive in my heart.
...

Say, whence come the snow-flakes —the pure, fleecy snow-flakes,
That flutter so softly, so tremblingly by?
Are they foam from the ocean of ether above us,
Or petals from roses that blow in the sky?
...

All this blessed summer morning,
With the golden sunlight round me,
Has my heart bowed down, o'erburdened
With its mournful tenderness,—
...

Have you seen a gentle maiden
Flitting down your forest aisles,
With her shining tresses flowing,
And her red lips wreathed with smiles?
...