Phoebe Cary (September 4, 1824 – July 31, 1871) was an American poet, and the younger sister of poet Alice Cary (1820–1871). The sisters co-published poems in 1849, and then each went on to publish volumes of her own. After their deaths in 1871, joint anthologies of the sisters' unpublished poems were also compiled.
Phoebe Cary was born on September 4, 1824, in Mount Healthy, Ohio near Cincinnati, and she and her sister Alice were raised on the Clovernook farm in North College Hill, Ohio. While she and her sister were raised in a Universalist household and held political and religious views that were liberal and reformist, they often attended Methodist, Presbyterian, and ... more »
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Phoebe Cary Poems
Suppose, my little lady, Your doll should break her head, Could you make it whole by crying Till your eyes and nose are red?
A Leak In The Dike
A Story of Holland The good dame looked from her cottage At the close of the pleasant day,
One sweetly solemn thought Comes to me o’er and o’er; I am nearer home to-day Than I ever have been before;
The Prairie On Fire
The long grass burned brown In the summer's fierce heat, Snaps brittle and dry 'Neath the traveller's feet,
When Lovely Woman
When lovely woman wants a favor, And finds, too late, that man won't bend, What earthly circumstance can save her
HE dwelt among 'apartments let,' About five stories high; A man I thought that none would get,
The crocus rose from her snowy bed As she felt the spring’s caresses, And the willow from her graceful head Shook out her yellow tresses.
The Christmas Sheaf
“Now, good-wife, bring your precious hoard,” The Norland farmer cried, “And heap the hearth, and heap the board, For the blessed Christmas-tide.
Ballad Of The Canal
We were crowded in the cabin, Not a soul had room to sleep; It was midnight on the waters, And the banks were very steep.
Entered Into Rest
My friend, 0, my dearly beloved! O, do you feel, do you know, How the times and the seasons are going;
Sally Salter, she was a young teacher who taught, And her friend, Charley Church, was a preacher who praught,
The Day Is Done (Parody Of H.W. Longfell...
The day is done, and darkness From the wing of night is loosed, As a feather is wafted downward, From a chicken going to roost.
Loaded with gallant soldiers, A boat shot in to the land, And lay at the right of Rodman's Point With her keel upon the sand.
The Three Wrens
Mr. Wren and his dear began early one year,— They were married, of course, on St. Valentine’s day,— To build such a nest as was safest and best,
Comments about Phoebe Cary
Suppose, my little lady,
Your doll should break her head,
Could you make it whole by crying
Till your eyes and nose are red?
And would n't it be pleasanter
To treat is as a joke;
And say you're glad ''Twas Dolly's
And not your head that broke?'
Suppose you're dressed for walking,
And the rain comes pouring down,
Will it clear off any sooner
Because you scold and frown?
And wouldn't it be nicer
For you to smile than pout,
And so make sunshine in the house
When there is none without?
Suppose your task, my little man,
Is very hard ...