Martha Lavinia Hoffman Poems

Butterfly, butterfly, where are you going?
Do you dine today with the regal rose
Or nectar sip with the lilies blowing
...

The tropical islands of Tonga
In the Southern Pacific sea lie
Like fragments of cool rainbow color
Dropped down from the melting blue sky.
...

Sublime and wonderful art thou, O deep,
Illustrious ocean, vast unmeasured waste!
Lost in thy contemplation, I do seem
...

Old Ocean, none knoweth thy story;
Man cannot thy secrets unfold,
Thy blue waves sing songs of thy glory
...

Backward across the lapse of years,
With its ebbing tide of smiles and tears,
Memory turns her wistful gaze
And sighs for the pleasures of by-gone days,
...

I watched the clouds at evening
When the Summer day neared its close,
As above the sentinal mountain peaks
Their pinnacled temples rose.

Mistily blending together
The faint, fleecy curtains unfold;
In the sky's magic mirror revealing,
Linings of silver and gold.

And here and there in the fluffy foam,
A twinkling star shines through;
Mingling a golden radiance
With the filmy tints of blue.

'Till they seem like the pearly gateway,
With the city towers just behind;
O'er whose walls of glittering jasper
Eternal day has dawned.

Oh! I almost catch the melody
That the angels sing in Heaven;
As I watch the faint, fair Summer clouds,
O'er the sky's blue curtain driven.

And my soul mounts up on eagle's wings,
To explore the realms unknown,
While life and death in a new, strange light,
Seem but a part to the throne.

When I think of the joy awaiting,
Beyond the bier and the shroud,
Death seems but a transient shadow,
A passing Summer cloud.
...

One thought of holy ecstasy
Breaks on my spirit's sight
Like a bright, flashing meteor
...

O, can I be happy in Heaven,
Though free from earth's trouble and care;
Though glories undreamed of be given,
...

Trackless and bare are the sands of the desert
No verdure adorns them, no green tree is there;
Parched by the winds and the hot, scorching sun rays,
Strewn with white bones lying bleaching and bare,
Like a vast ocean of rolling sand surges
Beaten and driven like waves on the deep,
Changing and shifting in wildest confusion
In the hot wind-storms that over them sweep.
Patiently, slowly, across the vast ocean
Plod the strong camels, so faithful and true;
Ships of the desert, with merchandise laden,
Gladly for them comes the harbor in view.
Onward they toil on their long, weary voyage,
While never a blade of grass blesses their sight;
Cheered through the day by the songs of the Arabs,
Resting upon the bare sand-waves by night.
...

When sunset tints the western skies
With evening's roseate flush,
When the woodlands lie in shadows
In the twilight's deepening hush;
When the shadows lengthen round the
Lowly cot and stately dome,
When the toilsome day is over,
Do they think of me at home?

Do they think of me when morning
Calls from slumber to awake,
When the lark is skimming gaily
O'er the bosom of the lake,
When the meadows lie serenely
'Neath the blue ethereal skies;
And the saucy sprightly bluejay
Wakes the forest with his cries?

Do they think of me and miss me,
In the noontide's glowing heat,
When the cottage echoes gaily
To the tread of little feet;
When the oriole and warbler
Sing their merry roundelay;
Do they think of me and miss me
In the busy, bustling day?

Do they think of me in winter,
When the falling of the rain
Makes a pattering on the shingles,
Trickles down the window-pain;
When the low night-winds are whispering,
Like some far-off mournful lyre,
When they gather in the evening,
'Round a brightly glowing fire?

When the children's merry laughter
Makes the cozy home-nest ring;
Do they think of me, I wonder,
When the evening songs they sing?
What is sweeter than that music,
When their childish voices raise
In their songs of flowers and fancies,
In their songs of prayer and praise.

Oft I sit beside my window,
When the day's long march is o'er,
When the waves are slowly creeping
O'er the distant ocean's shore;
And I wonder as I sit there,
In the twilight, all alone,
Do they pause amid life's bustle
To think of me at home?
...