Lucy Larcom

Lucy Larcom Poems

'T IS Easter eve; the day is fading;
O Thou, with whom there is no death,
While twilight every path is shading,

A PRAYER is in my thoughts to-night
I hardly dare to say:
'Lord, put my wishes all to flight,

WHEN for me the silent oar
Parts the Silent River,
And I stand upon the shore
Of the strange Forever,

STILL must I climb, if I would rest:
The bird soars upward to his nest;
The young leaf on the treetop high

THE scent of a blossom from Eden!
The flower was not given to me,
But it freshened my spirit forever,

GIRD me with the strength of Thy steadfast hills,
The speed of Thy streams give me!
In the spirit that calms, with the life that thrills,

O LIFE, that breathest in all sweet things
That bud and bloom upon the earth,
That fillest the sky with songs and wings,

RING, happy bells of Easter time!
The world is glad to hear your chime;
Across wide fields of melting snow
The winds of summer softly blow,

HAND in hand with angels,
Through the world we go;
Brighter eyes are on us
Than we blind ones know;

OPEN your heart as a flower to the light!
Darkness is passing; the Sun is in sight;
Morning with splendor is piercing life through,

'For unto us a Child is born.'
NOT, Mary, unto thee alone,
Though blessed among women thou:
Not thine, nor yet thy nation's own,

MIGHT a door but be opened in heaven!
Might we look for a moment within!
Might only one comforting glimpse be given,

THE sunrise over the houses!
The beautiful rose of dawn
Reddening the eastern windows, —
The curtains of Night withdrawn!

BECAUSE it cometh up, a heavenly flower,
Out of the earth, divinely sown therein,
To gather grace from shadow and from shower,

SAY not of thy friend departed,
'He is dead:' — he is but grown
Larger-souled and deeper-hearted,

O SCOFFER! He who from the cross
Looked down thy dark abysm of loss,
And knew His pain alone could win
Such souls as thine from gulfs of sin, —

IT is His birthday — His, the Holy Child!
And innocent childhood blossoms now anew,
Under the dropping of celestial dew

THE quiet of a shadow-haunted pool,
Where light breaks through in glorious tenderness;
Where the tranced pilgrim in the shelter cool

WHAT is the daily bread,
Father, we ask of Thee, —
We, who must still be fed
Out of Thy bounty free?

OUR way stir is onward; the world is yet young
With a beauty that never was dreamed of, or sung:
Her wonders for eyes that can see them unfold;

Lucy Larcom Biography

Lucy Larcom (March 5, 1824 - April 17, 1893, in Boston, Massachusetts) was an American poet. Larcom was born in Beverly, Massachusetts, in 1824, the ninth of ten children and died in Boston in 1893. She left Beverly, Massachusetts, in 1835 to work in the cotton mills in Lowell from the ages of 11 to 21. As a mill girl she hoped to earn some extra money for her family. While working at the mills in Lowell, Lucy made a huge impact. She wrote and published many of her songs, poems, and letters describing her life at the mills. Her idealistic poems caught the attention of John Greenleaf Whittier. Larcom served as a model for the change in women's roles in society. In the 1840s, she taught at a school in Illinois before returning to Massachusetts. From 1865 to 1873, she was the editor of Our Young Folks, later renamed St. Nicholas Magazine. Larcom penned one of the best accounts of New England childhood of her time, A New England Girlhood, commonly used as a reference in studying early American childhood. Her relatives live in the Greater Boston area, Tampa area, and Orange County, California. Larcom's influence is still felt in her hometown of Beverly. A local literary magazine entitled, The Larcom Review is named for her, as is the library at the Beverly High School. Larcom Mountain, located in the Ossipee Mountains in New Hampshire, is named after her, as she frequented the area during the late 1800s. At Wheaton College in Norton, Massachusetts, the Larcom Dormitory is named after her. Larcom's legacy is honored in Lowell, Massachusetts, where she worked as a Mill Girl at the Boott Mills, and as such, the Lucy Larcom Park was named after her to honor her works of literature that accounted her life at the mills. The park can be found between the two Lowell High School buildings, and excerpts from her writings can be found on monuments, statues and other works of art throughout the park.)

The Best Poem Of Lucy Larcom

Easter, (Sunrise And Sunset)

'T IS Easter eve; the day is fading;
O Thou, with whom there is no death,
While twilight every path is shading,
Breathe through us thy sweet Spirit's breath!
And when our last night comes, may we
Fall peacefully asleep in Thee!
The sun sets not; it is earth going
Awhile to hide her from the sun,
Where gentler, cooler winds are blowing;
To feel the coming day begun
Beneath soft night's refreshing dews; —
To wait for light she cannot lose.
To die with Christ — it is not dying;
It is but sinking deep with Him
Into the Father's bosom, lying
In that warm, sheltering silence dim,
Until the radiance of His eyes
Shines into ours, and slumber flies.
Sunrise! — it is the world arising: —
Her Lord, the Sun, she turns to meet,
Strange beauty everywhere surprising
Her steps- glad births of light and heat;
It is earth's face with joy aglow
To see life round her bud and grow.
To rise with Christ — it is awaking
Into the brightness of God's face;
It is to see His splendor breaking
Through every form, in every place,
As all ,along the heavenly way
Unfolds the dawn of His great day.
O Christ! this holy Easter morning
Pierce every shadow of our sin
With love's dear beckoning, truth's forewarning!
Thy life anew in us begin!
Let us the Father's glory see,
And rise into His light with Thee!

Lucy Larcom Comments

Lucy Larcom Quotes

I defied the machinery to make me its slave. Its incessant discords could not drown the music of my thoughts if I would let them fly high enough.

... it is the greatest of all mistakes to begin life with the expectation that it is going to be easy, or with the wish to have it so.

... we did not call ourselves ladies. We did not forget that we were working-girls, wearing coarse aprons suitable to our work, and that there was some danger of our becoming drudges.

The whole world of thought lay unexplored before me,—a world of which I had already caught large and tempting glimpses, and I did not like to feel the horizon shutting me in, even to so pleasant a corner as this.

We might all place ourselves in one of two ranks—the women who do something, and the women who do nothing; the first being of course the only creditable place to occupy.

Lucy Larcom Popularity

Lucy Larcom Popularity

Error Success