Sarah Knowles Bolton

Rating: 4.33
Rating: 4.33

Sarah Knowles Bolton Poems

I LIKE the man who faces what he must
With step triumphant and a heart of cheer;
Who fights the daily battle without fear;
...

2.

If I could feel my hand, dear Lord, in Thine,
And surely know
That I was walking in the light divine
...

O glorious Easter morning!
O day of peace and light!
One precious name adorning
...

Sarah Knowles Bolton Biography

She was born in Farmington, Connecticut to parents John Segar Knowles and Mary Elizabeth Miller Knowles. At age 11 she met the writer Harriet Beecher Stowe. In 1866 she married Charles E. Bolton, a merchant and philanthropist. In 1872 her son, Charles Knowles Bolton was born. She wrote extensively for the press, was one of the first corresponding secretaries of the Woman's national temperance union, was associate editor of the Boston "Congregationalist" (1878-81), and traveled for two years in Europe, studying profit-sharing, female higher education, and other social questions. Her writings encourage readers to improve the world about them through faith and hard work. She died in Cleveland, Ohio. Between 1863 and 1902 Sarah Knowles Bolton wrote many poems, children's books and biographical sketches, including: * "Orlean Lamar, and other poems" (New York, 1863) * "The Present Problem," a novelette (1874) * "How Success is Won" (Boston, 1884) * "Lives of Poor Boys who became Famous" (New York, 1885) * "Lives of Girls who became Famous" (1886) * "Social Studies in England" (Boston, 1886) * "Stories from Life" (New York, 1886) * "Famous European artists" (New York, 1890) * "Famous voyagers and explorers" (New York, 1893) * "The inevitable, and other poems" (New York, 1895) Biography: * "Sarah K. Bolton: Pages from an intimate autobiography edited by her son" (Boston, 1923))

The Best Poem Of Sarah Knowles Bolton

The Inevitable

I LIKE the man who faces what he must
With step triumphant and a heart of cheer;
Who fights the daily battle without fear;
Sees his hopes fail, yet keeps unfaltering trust
That God is God,—that somehow, true and just
His plans work out for mortals; not a tear
Is shed when fortune, which the world holds dear,
Falls from his grasp—better, with love, a crust
Than living in dishonor; envies not,
Nor loses faith in man; but does his best,
Nor ever murmurs at his humbler lot;
But, with a smile and words of hope, gives zest
To every toiler. He alone is great
Who by a life heroic conquers fate.

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