Lydia Huntley Sigourney
Lydia Huntley Sigourney Poems
I must not tease my mother,
For she is very kind;
And everything she says to me
I must directly mind;
...
Ye shall say they all have passed away,
That noble race and brave,
That their light canoes have vanish'd
...
Death found strange beauty on that cherub brow,
And dash'd it out. There was a tint of rose
On cheek and lip;--he touch'd the veins with ice,
...
Tree! why hast thou doffed thy mantle of green
For the gorgeous grab of an Indian queen?
With the timbered brown, and the crimson stain,
...
LADY Flora gave cards for a party at tea,
To flowers, buds, and blossoms of every degree;
So from town and from country they throng'd at the call,
...
When was the redman's summer?
When the rose
Hung its first banner out? When the gray rock,
Or the brown heath, the radiant kalmia clothed?
...
ABOVE them spread a stranger sky
Around, the sterile plain,
The rock-bound coast rose frowning nigh,
Beyond,--the wrathful main:
...
Had I an artist's pencil, I might sketch
Her as she was, in her young matronhood
...
ST. STEPHEN'S cloistered hall was proud
In learning's pomp that day,
For there a robed and stately crowd
Pressed on in long array.
...
The day returns, beloved friend
When in thy Mother's arms
...
I fain would be thy pupil, mighty Deep!
Yet speak thou gently to me, for I fear
Thy liquid terror, and I would not learn
...
Spring pour'd fresh beauty o'er the cultured grounds,
And woke to joyance every leaf and flower,
Where erst the Man of Science lov'd to find
...
FOR the first time, a lovely scene
Earth saw, and smiled,--
A gentle form with pallid mien
Bending o'er a newborn child:
...
Death's shafts fly thick, and love a noble mark.
--And one hath fallen who bore upon his shield
The name and lineage of an honor'd race
...
I saw her overlaid with many flowers,
Such as the gorgeous summer drapes in snow,
Stainless and fragrant as he ...
...
Peaceful is the rural life, made strong by healthful industry,
Firm in love of the birth-land, and the laws that govern it,
...
Lydia Huntley Sigourney Biography
Lydia Huntley Sigourney (September 1, 1791 – June 10, 1865), née Lydia Howard Huntley, was a popular American poet during the early and mid 19th century. She was commonly known as the "Sweet Singer of Hartford". Most of her works were published with just her married name Mrs. Sigourney. This passage outlines her main themes including old age, death, responsibility, religion - a strong belief in God and the Christian faith - and work (Victorian Web). She often wrote elegies or poems for recently deceased neighbors, friends, and acquaintances. Her work is one example of Victorian-era death literature which views death as an escape to a better place, especially for children. A contemporary critic called her work, infused with morals, "more like the dew than the lightning".She enjoyed substantial popularity in her lifetime and earned several nicknames, including "the American Hemans", the "Sweet Singer of Hartford", and the "female Milton". Her influences included the work of Hannah More, William Wordsworth, and William Cowper)
The Best Poem Of Lydia Huntley Sigourney
I Must Not Tease My Mother
I must not tease my mother,
For she is very kind;
And everything she says to me
I must directly mind;
For when I was a baby,
And could not speak or walk.
She let me in her bosom sleep,
And taught me how to talk.
I must not tease my mother;
And when she likes to read,
Or has the headache, I will step
Most silently indeed:
I will not choose a noisy play,
Nor trifling troubles tell,
But sit down quite by her side,
And try to make her well.
I must not tease my mother;
I've heard dear father say
When I was in my cradle sick
She nursed me night and day;
she lays me in my little bed,
She gives me clothes and food,
And I have nothing else to pay
But trying to be good.
I must not tease my mother;
She loves me all the day,
And she has patience with my faults,
And teaches me to pray,
How much I'll strive to please her,
She every hour shall see,
For should she go away or die,
What would become of me?
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