JWfct 9ua0 ~*99P 
 
Class "PS 3 50^ 
 
 Book - E 5 2 (* 
 
 Copyright N?„ 
 
 ) > o 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT; 
 
J 
 
 
SECOND COPY, 
 
 ^N 
 
 ;41 DtC29W99 
 
 **#sm of co?^ 
 
 s 
 
 " BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS." 
 
 Compiled by 
 
 ALICE BRAGG STURDY 
 
 From the Writings of 
 
 RHODA ANGELINE^BENTON 
 
 LOS ANGELES, CAL. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE MEDIUM 
 
 1899 
 
50954 t 
 
 cfffioda Jl tide fine Sen fan. 
 
 Rhoda Angeline Benton, the daughter of Noah 
 Lester Benton and Prissilla Hall Benton, was born 
 in Cornwall, Addison county, Vermont, November 
 27, 1819. 
 
 The oldest of eight children, she was even as a 
 \ery little girl noted for her amiable and happy dis- 
 position, her love of flowers and animals and in- 
 deed of all nature. When tired in mind or body, she 
 would seek some quiet spot, remote from all but 
 God and in .silence find strength and rest. She 
 could adapt herself to her surroundings, becoming 
 interested in a little child's amusements and enter- 
 taining it as well as if she were its own age, or be- 
 come equally interested in an aged person discover- 
 ing what entertained and interested h:m most. She- 
 had the faculty of makiDg all whom she met, no ma:- 
 ter how illiterate, feel perfectly at ease in her pres- 
 ence. The poorest and most unattractive persons 
 were even sought by her as she seemed to love to 
 cheer their lives by her congenial presence. She at- 
 tended the district school of Cornwall, Vermont, un- 
 til about twelve years of age, when she entered a 
 Seminary at Vergennes. Here she became acquaint- 
 ed with her dear friend, Mary Roberts, to whom one 
 of her poems is addressed, .alter about a year spent 
 in Vergennes she entered Middleberry Female Col- 
 lege, where she remained about two years. She was 
 far advanced in knowledge and her mind was ma- 
 tured beyond her years, as can be seen by her writ- 
 ings as early as fourteen. 
 
 At the age of sixteen she commenced teaching 
 school in a little village a few miles from her home. 
 It was while here she wrote "On being Engaged in 
 Teaching." 
 
 On account of her mother's poor health her fam- 
 ily, including herself, moved to Nashville, 111., but 
 so great was her attachment to certain friends in her 
 
'BE A UTIFUL THO UGHTS. ' ' 
 
 Eastern home that it was a very great sorrow to 
 leave them. 
 
 After moving West she taught school in a Sem- 
 inary at Belleville, 111., for one year and was engaged 
 to teach the following year had she lived. During the 
 vacation one of her sisters became very ill and while 
 the family were daily expecting her death her fath- 
 er, very suddenly after a few hours' illness, died. 
 She had always been especially devoted to her fath- 
 er, and being a person of such deep affection, it is 
 supposed that her grief occasioned by his death was 
 the cause of her own, as she only lived one week af- 
 ter her father died. The morning of her death, while 
 the family were at breakfast, she came to the bed- 
 side of her sick sister, Ruby Ann, whom she found 
 weeping over their recent loss. After comforting her 
 she arose, saying: "Be a good girl, you will get well 
 first," walked across the room and laid down. The 
 doctor entered at. this moment, but instead of stop- 
 ping at the bedside of the s'.ck girl whom he had 
 called to see, hastened across the room and spoke 
 to Angeline. She answered him, saying: "I am bet- 
 ter," and died before the doctor could call any of 
 the family. 
 
 She was engaged to be married to a Mr. Will- 
 iam Rider, a b nker of Belleville, who never out- 
 grew the sadness caused by her death. He erected 
 a handsome tombstone in memory of her near her 
 home in Nashville, 111. 
 
 Her writings have been treasured by my mother 
 and' as I have often loved to read them and been 
 highly elevated in thought while doing so, I felt 
 that they were too beautiful to be kept hidden away 
 any longer. I hope all who read her "Beautiful 
 Thoughts" will feel that they have been lifted upon 
 a higher plane of thought and will derive much good 
 from them. ALICE BRAGG STURDY. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Rhoda Angeline Benton .. 2-3 
 
 Twilight 5 
 
 Contentment. 6 
 
 The Blank Leaf 6 
 
 Dialogue Between A Lady And The Wind 7-8 
 
 The Heart's Secret Grief. 8 
 
 Comparative View Of The Country And City 9 
 
 There Is No Hindrance To The Ambitious Scholar 10 
 
 American Literature. 11-12 
 
 Lines To The Mother Of Little William 13-14 
 
 To A Friend Of The Mother Of William 14-15 
 
 The Widow's Charge At Her Daughters Bridal. . . 15 
 
 Ode To The Evening Stars 16 
 
 Help ' 16 
 
 Does Ambition Excite People To Greater Ex- 
 ertion Than Necessity 17-18 
 
 The Bride 18 
 
 Knowledge 19-20 
 
 Written In The Album Of A Friend ...... 20 
 
 On Seeing An Aged Beggar In The Street . . 21 
 Lines Occassioned By Being Absent From Home 
 
 Engaged In Teaching 22-23 
 
 Life ... 23 
 
 A Paraphrase On The Last Five Verses Of The 
 
 Tenth Chapter Of St. Luke 24 
 
 Parting Lines To My Dear Friend Mary 25-26-27 
 
 An Album eau Present 27-28 
 
 Christ's Childhood 29-30 
 
 Written In The Album Of A Friend.. 30 
 
 Friendship 31 
 
 The Three Requisites To A Just Imagination 31 
 
 I Love Thee Dearest Mary 32-33 
 
 Lines Written In The Album Of A Friend 33 
 Lines Written On The Death Of A Cousin, Shel- 
 don Parmerly 34 
 
 Epithalamium 35 
 
 Friendship 36 
 
 OneStepMore 37-38 
 
 Think Of Friends With Me And Friends Far 
 
 Away 38 
 
 Prayer 39 
 
 To Mary ... 40 
 
4 'BE A UTIFUL THO UGHTS. 
 
 \ TWILIGHT. 
 
 Written at the agu of H yearj. 
 
 Now, on the hills and mountain tops 
 The Sun's last rays are streaming, 
 
 While o'er the glen's embosomed rocks 
 Her beams are faintly gleaming; 
 
 All o'er the earth — with verdure spread, 
 Enclosed by Heaven's blue ceiling, 
 
 With gentle steps, and holy tread 
 Is silent twlight stealing. 
 
 Twilight — I hail once more thy power 
 Once more the cup o'erflowing 
 With sweetest musings for thy hour 
 Of nature's own bestowing. 
 Thy hour — the lovliest in time — 
 
 When earth we c^ase from prizing 
 And up to Heaven's all radiant clime 
 Our holiest thoughts are rising. 
 
 This stillest season — when the day 
 Its weary arms is folding 
 And trees and flowers with breezes play 
 Their silent concourse holding, 
 When Nature's pleased surveying eye 
 
 In transports pure, is gazing 
 Upon the blue but fading sky, 
 Thy shadowy veil is hazing. 
 
 What bosom e'er so base or mild 
 
 With grief or vengeance fuming 
 In thee, will not find soothings mild? 
 
 With thee, hold sweet communing? 
 But Oh, how blest the Christian soul 
 
 From busy haunts retreating, 
 That in thy hour finds highest joy 
 
 With higher spirits meeting. 
 
 Oh may I ever love, as now 
 
 Thy charms to be admiring — 
 And ever love my dusky friend 
 
 With thee, to be retiring. 
 Ye powers above — be witnesses now — 
 
 While I am consecrating 
 To sacred themes with firmest vow 
 
 This hour of Heaven's best making. 
 Cornwall, June 4, 1838. 
 
■ 'BE A UTIFUL THO UGH 7 S. ' 
 
 CONTENTMENT. 
 
 Written at the age of 14 years. 
 
 Contentment: Who regards it as his own? 
 
 Or who can say with conscience undisturbed 
 
 It ever finds an unmolested 
 
 Habitation in my heart? Who can tell 
 
 Of it, as though through all the changes of 
 
 This ever -varying life, it never were 
 
 A stranger, and had ever been tenacious 
 
 Of a seat within his bosom? Not he 
 
 Whose learning traverses creations wide 
 
 And ample field of intellectual 
 
 Stores; not he whose wealth is in his earthly 
 
 Goods and whose possessions glitter in the 
 
 Brightest gold; Nor he who loves the greeting 
 
 Soul-alluring pleasures of a foolish 
 
 World, and has at his command all pleasure 
 
 That the heart can wish or fancy can 
 
 Imagine. But he whose better knowledge 
 
 Is experience, whose wealth is virtue, 
 
 And whose pleasure, love of him who loves' the 
 
 Humble heart, and watches with paternal 
 
 Kindness o'er the human race. 
 
 THE BLANK LEAF. 
 
 Fair page, the eye that looks on thee 
 Ere long shall slumber in the dust, 
 
 And wake no more until it rise; 
 The resurrection of the just 
 May he to whom that eye belong 
 
 Join their assembly and their song; 
 
 Whose is that eye? Just now 'twas mine, 
 
 But reader, when thou lookest, 'tis thine. 
 
 Forget me not when far away, 
 
 As o'er the distant world you stray; 
 
 Remember one forever true, 
 
 To truth, to friendship and to you, 
 
 And should you in your life of bliss, 
 
 E'er find a heart more true than this, 
 
 Whate'er may be your future lot, 
 
 Forget me not, forget me not. 
 
 ANGELINE. 
 
• ' BE A UTIFUL 7 "HO UGHTS. 
 
 DIALOGUE BETWEEN A LADY AND THE WIND. 
 
 Written at the :i<?e ot'14 years. 
 
 Lady. 
 
 Stop whistling stranger — why such haste, 
 
 Stop, ere you shortly die, 
 Your breath will faint, your voice will cease, 
 Your wings will droop with heaviness, 
 
 If you thus swiftly fly. 
 
 Wind. 
 
 Ah lady; think not so, indeed, 
 
 Your weakness you expose, 
 My arm is stout, my nerve is strong, 
 T oft lay low the forest throng, 
 
 Nor fear I human foes. 
 
 Lady. 
 
 Well you may thus my words deride, 
 
 And call me simple too; 
 Though you can mighty things perform, 
 Frighten all nature in a storm, 
 Of peaceful seas, huge mountains form, 
 
 Man greater things can do. 
 
 Wind. 
 
 Ah lady; you mistake I think. 
 
 Can man do more than these? 
 I ike me, can man entirely free, 
 Fly swiftly o'er the mighty sea? 
 When scorched beneath the sultry line 
 Will he retire to polar's clime, 
 
 Or elsewhere as he please? 
 
 Lady. 
 
 Man's is a nobler, higher sphere, 
 And yet he prides in art, 
 He prides him in the lofty tower, 
 The pyramid, the towering spire, 
 This city and these well tilled farms 
 Bespeak his wisdom; but the charms 
 Of his bright genius, soaring high. 
 Now in the earth, now in the sky, 
 Exploring with a searching air, 
 Speak louder of his gifts, and share 
 The pride of his proud heart. 
 
' ' BE A UTIFUL THO UGHTS. ' ' 
 
 Wind. 
 
 Speak on, your words surprise my ear, 
 I'll listen with delight, to hear 
 Of things to me so new. 
 
 Lady. 
 
 Well then, this noble sphere is mind, 
 
 A soul immortal, pure, 
 
 The image of its God it bears, 
 
 With Him, ne'er dies, but ever lives, 
 
 When you and all things earthly cease, 
 
 When mountains, rocks and skies, and seas, 
 
 Shall disappear, still lives this soul; 
 
 Ranging slill free, without control, 
 
 It then more swift than you, will scan 
 
 The universe and view its plan, 
 
 A_nd reign with God secure. 
 
 THE HEART'S SECRET GRIEF. 
 
 Not every face that, wears a smile 
 
 Amid the gayer scenes of life, 
 Nor every eye that brightly beams 
 
 Is always free from inward strife. 
 Oft many a gay and smiling air, 
 
 Dissemble o'er the sorrowing heart, 
 The brow be smooth, no wrinkle there, 
 
 Ye* oft the tears unbidden start! 
 
 Beneath vain pleasure's mocking cloak, 
 
 We strive to hide our inward grief; 
 Those better feelings fain would choke, 
 
 And look to this world for relief. 
 'Tis only when the day doth vanish, 
 
 When night o'er earth her mantle throws, 
 Reflection then we cannot banish, 
 
 The tear unchecked then freely flows. 
 
 The face may seem devoid of care. 
 The placid brow, eyes sparkling bright, 
 
 Speak peace within, and yet 'tis there 
 Affliction spreads its withering blight; 
 
 While from this world we would conceal 
 Our sufferings, nor our woes impart, 
 A bursting sigh shall oft reveal 
 The anguish of a breaking heart. 
 
 — Selected. 
 
"BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS. 
 
 COMPARTIVE VIEW OF THE COUNTRY AND 
 
 CITY. 
 
 Written at the- age o( i'8 years. 
 
 Where, only but in view of majestic nature, can- 
 ine soul enjoy the unbounded, and unrestrained pas- 
 sions of wonder and curiosity? What can elevate and 
 cheer the heart, or animate the soul of man with more 
 lively emotions than a wild and delightful view of 
 tic works of his Creator? There is something of such 
 exquisite beauty and grandeur in the romantic scen- 
 ery of the country, that the inhabitants of thronged 
 cities cannot coujprehend. Everything seems to have 
 a pleasing connection with the past. Every hill, every 
 spot, and almost every bush suggests something wor- 
 thy of recollection. Man is united with man, age with 
 age, in the most sympathetic ties of friendship, and 
 under the strongest bonds of unity; but absolute per- 
 fection is in no place exhibited. Each alike, the cuy 
 and the country, has its excellencies and defects, and 
 different prospects operate differently upon different 
 minds. But where in general do we find content- 
 ment? In the busy throng of the tumultuous city? 
 Beneath the spacious walls of human architecture? 
 No; it dwells in the humble modest cot of the forest. 
 There happiness, heightened in every prospect, and 
 heartfelt joy is complete. And oft at even, the con- 
 tented swain goes forth, to taste the balmy sweetness 
 of the evening breeze, and view the ethereal vault. 
 His eye is delighted with the spacious canopy of 
 heaven and he beholds with sacred awe the vast un- 
 limited expanse that spreads before his view. He 
 seats him on the shady bank of some rippling stream, 
 and there in solitude, and with a heart o'ercharged 
 with gratitude, meditates upon the power, wisdom 
 and benevolence of that Being, who weigheth the 
 mountains in scales, and taketh up the isles as a very 
 little thing. 
 
 "Every soul as it is most pure 
 And hath in it the more of heavenly light,, 
 
 So it the fairer body doth procure 
 To habit in, and it, more fairly delight, 
 With cheerful grace and amiable sight. 
 
 For of the soul the body form doth take; 
 
 For soul is form and doth the body make." 
 
io "BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 
 
 THERE IS NO HINDRANCE TO THE AMBITIOUS 
 SCHOLAR. 
 
 Written at the age of 15 years 
 
 What will quell the longings of a scientific mind, 
 or satisfy the desires of that heart whose standard of 
 attainments is not limited to the low acquirements of 
 ordinary genius, but whose loftier anticipations have 
 set no bounds to scientific improvement. Whatsoever 
 beclouds or brightens the prospects of an ambitious 
 scholar, he is still active and constantly extracting 
 from every object the sustenance of an ambitious and 
 enquiring mind. Nature affords a constant feast for 
 his soul. In the calm and delightful morning, he per- 
 haps walks along the pathway that leads to his favor- 
 ite bower, and directs his meditations to the instabil- 
 ity of earthly things, and concentrates all his hopes 
 in the bright mansion of his Heavenly Father. In 
 the evening, he gazes at the sparkling canopy that 
 o'erspreads terrestrial objects and casts a shadowy 
 veil upon his native dwelling. Indolence finds no 
 refuge in his bosom and things of minor consequence 
 than moral and mental improvement, are regarded as 
 frivolous and vain. We sometimes hear an ignorant 
 youth plead his poverty as an apology for an unculti- 
 vated mind, while if disposed a person in low circum- 
 stances will not only acquire high intellectual attain- 
 ments, but will even rise above those whom fortune 
 has placed among the wealthy and proud. And so 
 far from saying that immense wealth is a necessary 
 appendage to the ambitious scholar, it is often an in- 
 cumbrance, and too often creates an utter aversion to 
 all literary pursuits. In pursuing the annals of fame, 
 where do we look for it. Among the affluent and 
 haughty, or among the meek and indigent? Among 
 the proud and vain, or among the wise and humble? 
 The only source of knowledge is from God, the author 
 and giver of all good things, and to Him who is good 
 in His sight, He will give wisdom, knowledge and joy. 
 
"BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS." n 
 
 AMERICAN LITERATURE. 
 
 Written at the age of 15 years. 
 
 Although wealth and power possess a vast influ- 
 ence in promoting the worthy honor and esteem of a 
 country, yet literature, is indispensable with regard to 
 the prosperity and happiness of any nation whatever. 
 Our country may possess the wealth of the Indies, 
 and sway the scepter of supreme power, but still with 
 all this, without literature it is nothing. Literature is 
 the basis of renown, and without it no country is 
 exalted to that rank, honor and station of importance 
 as when under the direct influence of its amazing 
 power. And when under the dispensation of Chris- 
 tian faith and integrity, and honored with faithful- 
 ness and energy of zeal, it flourishes as the thrifty 
 plant, nourished and revived through the influence of 
 the renovating beams of the Sun. It is not wealth, 
 power or fame which constitutes the glory of a eoun- 
 try,but the individual prosperity, happiness, virtue and 
 freedom of its inhabitants; and this, then, weshouldbe 
 the most faithful in cherishing and the most active 
 in promoting. Our scientific and literary produc- 
 tions are already grown to importance and lap- 
 idly flourishing to expel the gloom and fallacious 
 power of arbitrary superstition; to open an extensive 
 Held for the reception of "all that is lofty, noble and 
 pure, and to ban : sh from the human heart all the re- 
 vengeful and selfish passions that infest it, by pre- 
 senting to the imagination the more refined and ani- 
 mating pleasures of science. We even now see ambi- 
 tion, intent upon the accomplishment of this im- 
 portant object, industry ready to embrace it, 
 and honor eager to promote it. And imde^ 
 these favorable auspices, who can doubt that America, 
 though even now deserving distinguished merit, may 
 ere long be looked upon as the seat of learning, as 
 placed upon the throne of science and weaving the 
 unfading crown of literature. Butstill many of the sons 
 of America, have even now rendered their names im- 
 mortal, and though the bonds of union be dissolved. 
 and anarchy and confusion reign, they will never be 
 effaced from the literary heart. I can see nothing at 
 present to oppose the progress of science in our coun- 
 try, at least nothing but what American perseverance 
 will overcome; and I would cling with philanthropic 
 emotions to the pleasures derived from habits of re- 
 tirement and reflection. Let us for a moment con- 
 
12 "BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 
 
 sider the foundation of the pleasures derived from 
 this source. The individual who thus se- 
 cludes himself from society, for the purpose 
 of improvement, has leisure to review the 
 mult'plied follies of his life and compare his 
 conduct with those whom he would select as persons 
 of virtue and morality. He traces the various opera- 
 tions of his mind .and carefully examines those prin- 
 ciples which influence it, and the more important qual- 
 ities and acquirements which constitute a well* regu- 
 lated and well governed mind. Reflection not only 
 affords pleasure but expands the intellect, and widens 
 the capacity for knowledge. The mind that thirsts 
 for knowledge loves retirement; it loves to steal from 
 the busy crowd and seek happiness amid its own silent 
 pursuits, and happy is that person whose leisure 
 hours are spent in this delightful employment. There 
 is no menral faculty that exerts a more powerful in- 
 fluence over the conduct and morals of mankind than 
 meditation; and, indeed, these cannot be regulated in 
 the least with out it. Extensive reading conversation or 
 lectures, and, indeed, instruction from enthusiastic 
 delight, to the last and faintest hope that remained, 
 and embrace with ardor the best methods and indus- 
 triously apply them to its advancement. If we look 
 to our own interests and to the interests of our coun- 
 trymen and friends, we cannot avoid that spirit that 
 prompts us to the acquirement of knowledge," and if 
 this spirit is cherished and gratified we shall have 
 made proper use of the talentsi committed to us. But 
 I would speak the praises of American literature, for 
 already I see the American scholar rising in glory 
 and honor in the world, and grasping all in his power. 
 I see his happiness, his uninterrupted diligence, and 
 his inestimable prize. I see the hope that animates 
 his heart, and in ecstacy exclaim, "what a motive to 
 diligence." 
 
 "I slept and dreamed that life was beauty; 
 I woke and found that life was duty. 
 Was then my dream a shadowy lie? 
 Toil on, sad heart, courageously; . 
 And thou shalt find thy dream to be 
 A noon day light and truth to thee." 
 
 "True genuine modesty is to be 
 Developed by the indwelling of Christianity.' 
 
BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' /j 
 
 LINES TO THE MOTHER OF LITTLE WILLIAM. 
 (Who Was Scalded to Death). 
 
 Written at the age of 15 year,-. 
 
 Thou gazest on that cherub brow, 
 
 Cold, motionless and still; 
 No sportive smile is on it now, 
 
 No joy its eyes to fill.. 
 
 Its little limbs are stiff and cold, 
 
 Its throbbing heart has ceased; 
 Did death unclasp thy fondest hold, 
 
 When he its soul released? 
 
 Ah, mother, wherefore weepest thou? 
 Why steals the big tear down thy cheek? 
 What means the sadness of thy brow? 
 Hast thou no Comforter to seek? 
 
 Wouldst thou bring back his happy soul 
 
 From that bright realm above? 
 Erase his name from that pure roll, 
 
 And tear him from a Father's love? 
 
 And wouldst thou place him here below, 
 
 To meet the world's cold smile — 
 Perhaps no ray of hope to know, 
 
 When all is dark and wild? 
 
 Ah, mother, 'twas a Father's hand, 
 
 He saw and knew it best, 
 And took him to His "Better Land," 
 
 To his eternal rest. 
 
 Then, mother, dry thine every tear; 
 
 For thou this truth shouldst know 
 God, thy Redeemer's ever near 
 
 And He inflicts the blow. 
 
 He took away thy little one, 
 
 By Him its soul was given; 
 Then mourn not, for thy darling son, 
 
 For he's with God in Heaven. 
 
 The gentle William weeps no more; 
 His varied sufferings all are o'er. 
 No inward struggles cloud his brow 
 With marks of untold suffering.now. 
 
i 4 "BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 
 
 A little time on earth he spent, 
 Till God for him his angels sent, 
 And then on time he closed his eyes 
 To wake in glory in the skies. 
 
 Just like a bud of sunny spring, 
 That spite of kindly fostering 
 Is withered in its early bloom; 
 He sank in beauty to the tomb. 
 
 He longed to take millenial rest; 
 God more than granted his request, 
 And Satan ne'er shall lead astray 
 His footsteps from God's holy way. 
 
 He shines now brighter than a star 
 In that sweet place where angels are, 
 And there no sin or care can come, 
 'Tis better than a mother's home. 
 
 Ah! let his parents weep no more; 
 Their gentle boy has gone before, 
 And when they're laid beneath the sod, 
 He'll wait to welcome them to God. 
 
 TO A FRIEND OF THE MOTHER OF WILLIAM. 
 
 I ever loved the heart that loves 
 A fond and tender mother; 
 That grief and care from her resumes, 
 That all her ills would smother. 
 
 I love it most to see it prove, 
 And weep with that fond mother, 
 
 When she is called to test that love 
 That's equalled by no other. 
 
 When death draws out with ruthless hand 
 An arrow from his quiver, 
 And pointing to her infant band, 
 Bestows one to the giver. 
 
 Then when biggest tears and saddest grief, 
 
 Would fain her bosom sever, 
 And soothing friends would give relief, 
 
 But no relief can give her. 
 
* * BE A UTIFUL THO UGH TS. ' ' 
 
 'S 
 
 Oh, then! I love the heart that points 
 
 Her soul to God, her Father, 
 Directs to that bright hour, her thoughts, 
 
 When His shall meet together. 
 
 Then lovely is the eye that's glazed 
 With tears for that fond weeper, 
 And ever shall the heart be praised 
 That loves from grief to keep her. 
 Cornwall, April 3, 1838. 
 
 THE WIDOW'S CHARGE, AT HER DAUGHTER'S 
 BRIDAL. 
 
 -o- 
 
 ueal gently thou, whose hand has won 
 
 The young bride from its nest away, 
 Where, careless, 'neath the vernal sun, 
 
 She gaily caroled day by day; 
 The naunt is lone, the heart must grieve, 
 
 From whence her timid wing doth soar, 
 They pensive list, at hush of eve, 
 
 Yet hear her gushing song, no more. 
 
 Deal gently with her; thou art dear 
 
 Beyond what vestal lips have told, 
 And like a lamb, from mountain clear 
 
 She turns confiding to thy fold. 
 She 'round thy sweet domestic bower, 
 
 The wreathes of changeless love shall twine, 
 Watch for thy step at vesper hour, 
 
 And blend her holiest prayer with thine. 
 
 Deal gently thou, when far away, 
 
 'Mid stranger scenes her foot shall rove, 
 Nor let thy tender cares decay. 
 
 The soul of woman lives in love; 
 And shouldst thou, wondering mark a tear 
 
 Unconscious from her eyelid break, 
 Be faithful — and soothe the fear 
 
 That man's strong heart can ne'er partake. 
 
 A mother yields her gem to thee, 
 
 On thy true breast to sparkle rare; 
 She places 'neath thy household tree 
 
 The idol of her fondest care; 
 And by thy trust, to be forgiven, 
 
 When judgment wakes in terror wild, 
 By all thy treasured hopes of heaven, 
 
 Deal gently with the widow's child. 
 
1 6 "BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS" 
 
 ODE TO THE EVENING STARS. 
 
 Written at the age of 16 years. 
 
 Hail, thou bright gleaming evening star; 
 
 Thou little sparkling spot afar, 
 
 Thou gem, hung out on night's pale shroud 
 
 Far, far above the highest cloud — 
 No brilliant diamond shining brght 
 Can charm the eye with such delight. 
 
 , We gaze on the unnumbered throng 
 While wandering carelessly along, 
 But when our eyes alight on thee 
 We sigh, and wish away to flee. 
 Away to ramble in the skies 
 Till thy fair image meets our eyes. 
 
 We mark thy early morning rays, 
 They tell of Sol's returning blaze, 
 We view thy cheerful hesper light 
 Succeeding her descending flight, 
 And oh, our souls would rise and fly 
 To thy bright home, the fair blue sky. 
 
 "HELP." 
 
 "My hands have often been weary hands. 
 
 Too tired to do their daily task, 
 And just to fold them forevermore 
 
 Has seemed the boon that was best to ask. 
 
 My feet have often been weary feet, 
 
 Too tired to walk another day; 
 And I've thought, to sit and cdlmly wait 
 
 Is better far than the onward way. 
 
 My eyes with tears have been so dim, 
 That I have said I cannot mark 
 
 The work I do, or the way I take, 
 For everywhere it is dark — so dark. 
 
 But, oh! Thank God! There never has come 
 That hour that makes the bravest quail, 
 
 No matter how weary my hands and feet. 
 God never has suffered my heart to fail. 
 
 So the folded hands take up their work, 
 And the weary feet pursue their way, 
 
 And all is clear when the good heart cries, 
 Be brave! Tomorrow's another day." 
 
BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 17 
 
 DOES AMBITION EXCITE PEOPLE TO GREATRK 
 EXERTION THAN NECESSITY? 
 
 Wtitteu at the age of 16 years. 
 
 (A Debate.) 
 It must be allowed that according to philosophi- 
 cal principles the terms employed in a debate, should 
 be clearly and distinctly defined before proceeding to 
 the discussion of the question. And what I mean by 
 Ambition is a desire of power, excellence or persever- 
 ance. By Necessity, that which compels a person to 
 exertions which will promote personal utterances. 
 In the first place, necessity does not act in so high 
 ranges or attempt so difficult and hazardous efforts 
 as ambition. Has it even like ambition crossed the 
 Alps of Switzerland, forced itself through eastern 
 deserts, ascended the rugged mountains of the north, 
 or wandered over the cheerless unfrequented seas of 
 the south? Has it like ambition contended with cham- 
 pions or fought with haughty, arrogant kings? Has 
 it like ambition subdued nations, overthrown king- 
 doms and laid cities in ashes on provinces and em- 
 pires, in the world? Hais it explored the subterranean 
 regions of the earth, or the infinite number of worlds 
 that surround it? No, not even inspected one among 
 the variety of objects upon its surface. The range of 
 necessity is merely what we see exhibited in common 
 life, those things that promote temporary pleasure or 
 perosnal enjoyment, the labor requisite in procuring 
 the necessaries, the bodily exertions of those whose 
 daily support depends upon them. Necessity may 
 perhaps, elevate some one by chance, to a high sta- 
 tion, of wealth or honor, but what avails an individ- 
 ual case, when thousands would be required to confute 
 the foregoing assertion. Necessity is not engaged 
 in the pursuit of so many important and useful ob- 
 jects as ambition. It has not been the result of »o 
 many successful achievements in war. It has not pro 
 duced such rapid advances of arts and manufac- 
 tures as ambition, though, perhaps, both 
 might have originated in necessity. And we are 
 well aware that they may arise to such a point that 
 efforts resulting from necessity to maintain them will 
 be superceded by those of ambition. Ambition has 
 produced greater mental exertions than necessity. 
 What but ambition has elevated the standard of edu- 
 cation in this and other countries? What has caused 
 
1 8 "BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS: 
 
 our cities to become seats of learning and literature 
 to nourish in our towns? What but this has given 
 courage to the orator and pride to the poec; that has 
 excited our public speakers to test those exertions 
 requisite for maintaining the cause in which they are 
 'engaged? Let us for a moment consider how the great 
 mass of created intelligent beings would conduct 
 themselves, were they not incited by any other than 
 necessitous motives. I know that what I do from am- 
 bition, is attended with greater exertions than that 
 from necessity, and as I individually attest this, I 
 wish to know if it is not the same with you all? 
 
 Cornwall Debating Society, 1836. 
 
 THE BRIDE. 
 
 Oh, take her and be faithful still, 
 
 And may the bridal vow 
 Be sacred held in after years, 
 
 And warmly breathed as now. 
 Remember 'tis no common tie 
 
 That binds her youthful heart, 
 'Tis one that only Truth should weave, 
 
 And only Death can part. 
 
 The joy of childhood's happy hour, 
 
 The home of riper years, 
 The treasured scenes of early youth, 
 
 In sunshine and in tears; 
 The fairest hopes her bosom knew, 
 
 When her young heart was free, 
 Al these and more she now resigns, 
 
 To brave the world with thee. 
 
 Her lot in life is fixed with thine, 
 
 Its good and ill to share, 
 And well I know 'twill be her pride, 
 
 To soothe each sorrow there. 
 Then take her, and may fleeting time 
 
 Mark only joy's increase, 
 And may your days glide swiftly on 
 
 In happiness and peace. 
 
 — Selected. 
 
"BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' t 9 
 
 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Written at the age of 17 year . 
 
 Come taste of Knowledge, heavenly prize, 
 To light us to the distant skies, 
 Come and enjoy her, pure and bright, 
 In evening, by our cheerful light. 
 Come share with us a mental feast, 
 Of all feasts, not indeed, the least. 
 We'll circle 'round the table spread, 
 Not with fresh viands or with bread. 
 A richer load it ssure shall bear, 
 Of books and authors, choose with care, 
 These we will fondly ponder o'er, 
 These shall attest our love of lore! 
 Oh Knowledge — source of pure delight, 
 To Thee my spirit bends its flight. 
 
 Come, too, at early morning light, 
 Come, then, and woo her, pure and bright. 
 Ere Sol's pure orient beams arise, 
 To clear the darkness from our eyes. 
 Ere busy day's confusing hum 
 With all its busy care has come 
 While yet the mind is calm and clear, 
 And nothing's nigh to interfere. 
 Come, then, enjoy a mental feast, 
 Of all feasts, not indeed the least — 
 Our due attention shall declare 
 Our pure regard for truth and lore. 
 Oh Knowledge, source of pure delight. 
 To Thee my spirit bends its flight. 
 
 Come mingle in the school house train, 
 Mark their endeavors, truth to gain, 
 Witness their application close, 
 To tasks their teachers hard propose. 
 See with what eagerness they strive, 
 Their fellow class-mates to out-thrive, 
 And then say who would such disdain. 
 Such joys, what mortals wou'd not claim. 
 Oh, here the tree of knowledge grows. 
 Here Liberty's fair sons arose, 
 And o'er these hanowed spots of love, 
 Shall wave fresh laurels evermore. 
 Oh Knowledge, source of pure delight, 
 To Thee my spirit bends its flight. 
 
2o "BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:" 
 
 Oh happy be the souls that love 
 To wander in some shady grove, 
 To seek some calm, some blessed retreat, 
 So pure, 'twere seeming heaven complete. 
 And there some favorite volume choose, 
 Some much-loved author there peruse, 
 And there perhaps some friend prefer 
 With whom upon them to confer. 
 Ah, who so blessed below the skies, 
 Such heaven-born joys — who would not prize. 
 Oh Knowledge, source of pure delight, 
 To Thee my spirit bends its flight. 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF A FRIEND. 
 Written at the age of 18 years. 
 
 (Vergenes, May 24, 1838.) 
 I do not think to work a name 
 Or praises for poetic fame 
 
 In these dull lines. 
 I only wish to fan a flame 
 And make increasing warmth my aim 
 
 In these dull lines, 
 
 A kind memento it may serve 
 
 Of love from which I ne'er shall swerve 
 
 In these dull lines. 
 But for your worth — your coy reserve 
 You get not half what you deserve 
 
 In these dull lines. 
 
 I might attempt your heart to show 
 In all its beauty, warmth and glow 
 
 In these dull lines. 
 But, oh; I could not half bestow 
 Or paint thy bosom's faintest glow 
 
 In these dull lines. 
 
 But Mary when I'm far away, 
 Ad, oh! I feel the whole I say, 
 
 In these dull lines. 
 Remember her, one who e'er will pray 
 For sunshine on her every day, 
 Who now receives this humble lay 
 
 In these dull lines. 
 
''BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 2t 
 
 ON SEEING AN AGED BEGGAR IN THE STREET, 
 
 Written at the age of 17 years. 
 
 Oh hasten poor beggar man, weary and worn, 
 
 Thy locks are quite gray, arid thy beard is not shorn. 
 
 Thy feet are quite naked ,thy head is quite bare, 
 
 Oh hasten to warm thee, and food we'll prepare. 
 
 Oh what has thy lot been and what thy hard fate, 
 That thou, thus so aged, art wandering so late, 
 Oh hast thou not better reward for thy toil, 
 Than the shelterless sky and the hard beaten soil? 
 
 Oh, hast thou no sister, no friend or no wife, 
 To cheer thee in trouble, assuage thy hard life? 
 Or art thou all lonely, all sad and all meek, 
 With no earthly friend save poor Trip at thy feet? 
 
 Oh, what are thy prospects, but sorrow and gloom, 
 Or hast thou a prospect beyond the dark tomb? 
 Does Hope's cheering ray ever gleam o'er thy mind, 
 And hast thou a refuge in God ever kind? 
 
 Me thinks, poor old beggar, I hear you now say 
 How can "I your kindness and pity repay? 
 My purse is quite empty, but I'll never repine 
 I've a heart that beats quickly and kindly as thine. 
 
 When young, I was active and busy and gay, 
 
 And hope beamed upon me her bright, cheering ray. 
 
 But fate had designed me a sailor to rove, 
 
 And thus on the foaming seas, since I have strove. 
 
 Across the wide Ocean I have a dear wife, 
 And three smiling children — if God spare their life, 
 But oh, cruel wild winds have driven me here, 
 To wail out my poor life in sorrow and fear. 
 
 Thus, thus has my lot been, and thus my hard fate, 
 But I trust I've a mansion beyond the dark state, 
 When days of deep darkness and nights of sad wail 
 Shall never this poor aching body assail." 
 
 "Every action in life touches on some 
 Chord that will vibrate in Eternity.** 
 
32 « BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 
 
 LINES OCCASIONED BY BEING ABSENT FROM 
 HOME ENGAGED IN TEACHING. 
 
 Written at the age of 17 years. 
 
 (Monday Morning, June 27, 1837.) . 
 Whose is a happier sphere than mine? Or 
 Who so blessed as I am, when fair aurora 
 Decks the summer morn with every charm 
 And wakes the winged musiciaas from their 
 Restive sleep to fill the world with melody 
 Exceeding far the mimicry of art 
 And calls forth Zephyrus from her Western 
 Home, to fan the morn with her reviving breath 
 And wake all things to life and joy; 
 Who then so happy as myself, say I 
 To haste away with lithesome heart 
 To yon low puny cot, to meet perhaps, some 
 Twenty children of a country clan, of 
 Neat attire, and rude appearance; modest 
 Though, and gentle, kind, happy and contented, 
 Ambitious each, the others to excel 
 In their respective tasks; and proud to think 
 Of knowing more and more each day. These — these 
 The sunny day enjoy, entrusted to 
 My care. And I, the while remuneration 
 Share, to see their growing minds, with knowledge 
 Frought. Such cots as these, so often met with 
 On the country plain, or in the thicket glen, 
 Or on the south hill side, or on the fair 
 And modest villa green, bespeak a nation wise 
 Wise, and fond of lore; and fills the heart 
 Of him, on whom fair science deigns to cast 
 Her lucid beams, with elevated joy. 
 
 Ah, yes; 'twas in a place like this, that first 
 
 A Newton's mind expanded, first a White's 
 
 Or Franklin's. Or aught of whom the world may 
 
 Boast, as votaries of exalted science. 
 
 Here friendship first unites young hearts, with 
 
 Ever duriDg ties; and each succeeding 
 
 Year adds strength, till manhood comes, and then by 
 
 Death old age dissolves the earthly union 
 
 For bonds now ind'ssolubly strong in 
 
 Realms of bliss above. Whose lot than mine more 
 
 Joyous and refined, than tender minds, to 
 
 Bend for future good and give to early thought 
 
 A sense of right and wrong, and eagerly 
 
•• BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 23 
 
 Observe the first faint glimmerings of latent 
 
 Powers, unfolding into action. 
 
 Ah, thus will I repay the anxious care 
 
 Of those who thus for me have toiled, and on 
 
 My younger mind — bestowed such pains as well 
 
 Deserves my utmost thanks; and ever will 
 
 T think oi them with kindest love. 
 
 Oh my best wishes too, and best regard 
 
 Shall rest on those dear spots, where first the 
 
 Mind, rude and unpolished, (like the marble 
 
 In the quarried mine, ere the skilled sculptor 
 
 Puts its beauties on) begins to dazzle 
 
 Forth its faculties inherent. These seats 
 
 Of learning are the firmest props a 
 
 Nation holds, of honor, happiness, of 
 
 Worth or wealth; and 10 sustain them I will 
 
 Do my best. So haste Angela to your daily task. 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 Life, I know not what thou art, 
 
 But know that thou and I must part, 
 
 And when or how, or where we met 
 
 I own, to me's a mystery yet. 
 
 Life, we've been long together, 
 
 Through pleasant and through cloudy weather. 
 
 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear; 
 
 Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; 
 
 Then steal away, give little warning, 
 
 Choose thine own time, 
 Say not good night,, but in some brighter clime 
 
 Biu me good morning. 
 
 — Selected. 
 
 •'The kindest and happiest pair 
 Will oft have reason to forbear, 
 Find something every day they live 
 To pity and perhaps forgive." 
 
 "Strength for today is all we need, 
 As there never will be a tomorrow; 
 
 For tomorrow will prove but another today 
 With its measure of joy and sorrow." 
 
24 "BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 
 
 PARAPHRASE ON THE LAST FIVE VERSES OF 
 THE TENTH CHAPTER OF ST. LUKE. 
 
 — — 0— 
 
 Written at the age of 17 years 
 
 (Addressed to My Sister Mary.) 
 Jesus the holy Son of God 
 And his disciples, lovely band, 
 At Martha's house in Bethany 
 Retire and entertainment find. 
 
 While Martha served with busy care 
 And hastened to prepare them food 
 See Mary — Martha's sister dear 
 At Jesus' feet, how meek, how good. 
 
 With what sweet words from Jesus' lips, 
 Was Mary's happy heart then cheered 
 How blessed was her humble seat, 
 What glorious counsels then she heard. 
 
 But Jesus, Master, Martha said, 
 
 Bia Mary some kind help afford; 
 
 See how I labor, she instead 
 
 Feasts well her soul with thy rich word. 
 
 Martha, Martha, Jesus replied, 
 Let not this world engage your heart; 
 One thing is needful, much preferred 
 And Mary hath this better part. 
 
 While you are careful of this life 
 Anxious its flattering smiles to share 
 See Mary humble at my feet 
 Sweet piety her only care. 
 
 Now Mary may this Mary's choice 
 Be your rich portion evermore; 
 And may you at His feet rejoice 
 Who cruel pangs for sinners bore. 
 
 "Make a little fence around today, 
 
 Fence it in with loving words and therein stay; 
 
 Look not through the sheltering bars upon tomor- 
 row, 
 
 God will help thee bear what comes of joy or sor- 
 row." 
 
'• BEA UTIFUL THOUGHTS. ' ' 
 
 PARTING LINES TO MY DEAR FRIEND MARY. 
 
 Written at the age of 18 years. >, 
 
 All, why did Providence to me allow 
 So lovely friends; or one so dear as thou — 
 And why, Oh fate, has thou so soon decreed 
 From friends, and home and all, my steps to lead? 
 
 For I must soon another air inhale 
 
 Far from Vermont, in Mississippi's vale 
 
 Where, whether joy or sorrow shall attend 
 
 No smiles of thine can their mlid influence blend. 
 
 But oh, I never will forget that voice 
 Whose utterance mild, I oft have made my choice 
 When busier tongues with half less sweetness fraught 
 Have plied in vain, in vain my smiles have sought. 
 
 Nor e'er forget the glances of those eyes 
 Whose tender radiance beams as from the skies 
 Whose speaking fullness oft has fixed my gaze 
 Till fancy fraught them with angelic rays. 
 
 And oft shall fancy paint that roseate hue 
 
 On those flushed cheeks — enchanting to my view, 
 
 Sweet the remembrance — but ah, sweeter this 
 
 That those flushed cheeks have felt my warmest kiss 
 
 Wild is my fancy; Thou wild dream — away — 
 
 Let reason exercise her nobler sway— 
 
 And let to God my orisons ascend, 
 
 For Heaven to guard thee — Heaven to ere befriend. 
 
 And if to Heaven I raise my prayers again 
 For blessings on thee, will those prayers be vain? 
 Ah, Mary, no — for faith the while bespeaks 
 That my fond prayer the richest favor seeks. 
 
 Should now prophetic vision wrap my soul 
 And the full page of future fate unroll, 
 Would characters emblazoned there, portray 
 A life of joy, a life of cloudless day? 
 
 Or would cold sorrow like — 
 (That ever dark concomitant of life) 
 Tc press his heavy hand upon thy face 
 And every line of love and joy erase? 
 
' ' BE A UTIFUL T//0 UGH VS. ' ' 
 
 Ic matters not, if in that western vale 
 A garb of grief and joy my heart empale 
 No — it shall ever feel its purest flame 
 At the mere mention of a cherished name. 
 
 Oh! think you not, that my reverting eye 
 Will often turn toward its native sky? 
 And that my feet will often wish to roam 
 About the fields encircling once — my home? 
 
 And will not, too, those early school-day scenes 
 Where joyous eyes have shot enraptured gleams 
 Where heart with kindred heart in concert beat© 
 And each kind smile a kinder answer meets. 
 
 Will not these, too, be very near my heart 
 
 Since thou, dear friend hast formed .so loved a part? 
 
 And will not, too our ever mutual tears 
 
 Embalm the memory of those bygone years? 
 
 But thoughts like these chase countless thoughts 
 
 along 
 And fain would swell a weary endless song. 
 But she to whom these measures are addressed 
 She feels them all within her faithful breast. 
 
 She never can forget those Sabbath hours 
 When holiest themes engaged our holiest powers 
 When from pure streams, our thirsty souls have 
 
 quaffed 
 The flowing sweetness of an Angel's draught. 
 
 And when at church she sees my vacant, seat 
 And she no more can hear my entering feet 
 Oh, Heaven, for me, will know her anxious fears 
 While each for other mingles prayers with tears. 
 
 Thou knowest that from thy first love for me 
 My kindest love has been bestowed on thee 
 Thou knowest, how with unremitting care 
 The purest friendship we have loved to share. 
 
 That friendship grew from day to day 
 Beneath the sunshine of love's warmest ray 
 And Knowledge, Virtue, Love, have been the while 
 The happy themes our minutes to beguile. 
 
^BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:* 27 
 
 But oh, this heart by fate's relentless hand 
 Must find a refuge in a stranger land 
 Must transfer there, all fearless, fond and free 
 The pure affections it has formed for thee. 
 
 And deem not thou that there they will congeal 
 Or that this heart will ever cease to feel 
 Tt never can, within the pale of time, 
 Or while thou livest, in whatever clime. 
 
 But it is so; and must I say adieu? 
 
 Adieu forever to a friend like you? 
 
 Ye Powers above — with these last, accents, send 
 
 A thousand blessings on thy worthy friend. 
 
 Around her pathway shed Celestial light, 
 And guard her spirit from misfortune's blight, 
 Let every grace in sweet accord combine 
 To mould her heart as pure and loved as thine. 
 
 And, oh! protect her on Death's darksome hour 
 When o'er her form shall steal its chilling power 
 Then, let hope's bright beams upon her rise 
 And plume her pinions for the upper skies. 
 
 And may we meet in those bright realms above 
 To tune our ceaseless songs of love, 
 With this last wish— my bursting heart must tell 
 To thee— a long— perhaps a last farewell. 
 
 Her Friend Mary died in less than a year. 
 
 AN ALBUMEAN PRESENT. 
 
 Written at the as;e oflS years. 
 
 (To My Friend Sarah.) 
 The stars that nightly shine so pure, 
 The Sun's bright beams by day obscure; 
 Their milder less effulgent rays, 
 Are lost amidst a brighter blaze; 
 Yet not the less their forms are fair 
 And not less brightly .shine they there. 
 Thus here, the' names that meet thy eye, 
 And dazzle bright on friendship's sky, 
 Dispersing on thy raptured sight, 
 The brightness of empyreal light; 
 
28 " BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS." 
 
 ■Jay dark eclipse my humble name, 
 
 Amid their brighter, purer flame. 
 
 Yet cot the less 'twould faithful be, 
 
 And not less fondly cherished thee. 
 
 My lowly strains in accent clear, 
 
 Would fain fall gently on thy ear, 
 
 And, mingled with love's warmest swell, 
 
 Would kindly speak a last farewell. 
 
 For fate with stern, unyielding hand, 
 
 Points yonder to a stranger land, 
 
 And time speeds on the darksome day, 
 
 That thence must bear ycur friend away. 
 
 But oh, wheree'er my footsteps roam 
 
 3 still will love my early Home; 
 
 I'll love tee playmates of my early youth 
 
 (And tears forth gushing speak the truth,) 
 
 O were the future unrevealed ' 
 
 Its mystic volumes all unsealed, 
 
 Would joy or grief be mine to ©hare 
 
 Or peaceful rest or anxious care? 
 
 Tis all as well — enough we know 
 
 To learn that joy must mix with woe; 
 
 That smiles oft prelude pain and tears, 
 
 And brightest hopes oft end in fears; 
 
 But why that Providence distrust 
 
 Whose hand Divine is therefore just? 
 
 If God beholds a sparrow's fall 
 
 And sees around as Lord of all 
 
 Shall I be faithless or shall I 
 
 Unnoticed live, unnoticed die? 
 
 An infinite unbounded stretch 
 
 To notice me a worthless wretch. 
 
 On life's tempestuous sea we ride, 
 
 Where frightful storms our paths betide, 
 
 W T here fearful waves around us roar, 
 
 And thick impending tempests lower, 
 
 But He still lives, whose high behest, 
 
 Once calmed the troubled waves to rest, 
 
 And when wild fears our bosoms fill, 
 
 Will kindly answer, "Peace be Still." 
 
 But, oh, farwell — may virtue shed 
 
 Its brightest lustre o'er thy head, 
 
 And may thou through life's darksome way, 
 
 Prepare for realms of endless day; 
 
 And may we in yon world above 
 
 Sing ceaseless strains of endless love. 
 
" BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' zg 
 
 CHRIST'S CHILDHOOD. 
 
 Written at the ajee of 17 years. 
 
 Of earth-born beings, who could ask 
 More than was Mary's lot, the task 
 (If such it may be called) to rear 
 Witn tender care her offspring dear; 
 For who before, such prize has won 
 Who else can claim a spotless son? 
 
 Where in the annals of the world 
 
 Has priest or prophet ever told 
 
 Of one so fair, so pure a child 
 
 By nothing stained, by nought defiled? 
 
 Or in what philosophic school 
 
 Has e'er been trained by wisest rule 
 
 A youth from every vice so free 
 
 As was this soul in infancy. 
 
 Think, how in every word and thought 
 
 His parent's happiness he sought; 
 
 A word in anger never spoke 
 
 Ne'er raised his hand to deal a stroke 
 
 Nor ever by a giddy heart, 
 
 Was he allured to folly's part; 
 
 But e'er maintained strict virtue's s'de 
 
 And wept to see the foolish glide 
 
 With fleeting steps, down death's dark tid<= 
 
 What mixture pure of fond delight 
 And love, the mother felt at night 
 To trace his actions through the day 
 And find to mourn no childish fray 
 No raging passion quick to chide. 
 No hasty, willful fault to hide 
 
 But fondly mark hi© mind mature 
 E'er age had made his manhood sure. 
 Oh, how she loved to linger o'er 
 The lovely traits his actions bore 
 To see his gratitude and love 
 His gentleness and kindness prove 
 His wi/sdom from a world above. 
 
 Alone a monument he stands 
 
 Of spotless, pure unblemished hands, 
 
 No sin-stained deed hotly he e'er wrought 
 
jo "BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 
 
 Nor no foul purpose ever sought. 
 
 BiK why of Him attempt to show 
 
 By words, what words can ne'er bestow. 
 
 Among the names of human race 
 Who pedigree from Adam trace, 
 Not one in truth can disclaim sin; 
 Ah, no; the monster reigns within; 
 And sways his victim's yielding will 
 His murderous office to fulfill. 
 
 But this blest being, heavenly prize, 
 This child, immaculate and wise, 
 The Son of God, through David's line, 
 The Son of Mary, heir divine, 
 Hath never sinned; Ah, he alone, 
 Ihe tempter had not power to own. 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF A FRIEND. 
 
 
 Written at the age of 18 years. 
 
 a thousand wishes I would wish you — 
 A thousand blessings fain bestow, 
 
 As many days of pleasure give you, 
 Were I fitting thus to do. 
 
 Would you ask a tender tribute — 
 From a heart that loves you well, 
 
 Would you ask one more expressive 
 Than a tender sigh can tell? 
 
 Would you ask a kind memento — 
 
 On this consercrated page, 
 If a tear drop chance to follow, 
 
 Will it firmer love engage? 
 
 Would you wish a fond expression — 
 Of my often told regard, 
 Would you wish me more to mention, 
 Than my name — that simple word? 
 
 "No life is pure in its purpose or strong in its 
 strife, but all life is made purer and stronger there- 
 by." 
 
"'BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 3' 
 
 FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 Written ar, the nge oflS years;. 
 
 Friends but few on earth, and therefore dear." 
 
 — Pollock. 
 
 Are there on earth but few indeed 
 Who friendship's leadings love to lead? 
 Are there but few whose souls are near 
 And "knit together," "therefore dear?" 
 
 Are there but few who love to lave 
 In friendship's pure and limpid wave, 
 Around whose happy hearts entwine 
 Affection's tendrils— plant divine. 
 
 The sweets of friendship never cloy 
 Do not these few these sweets enjoy? 
 The sweets of friendship never fail, 
 On these do not these few regale? 
 
 Oh, we will join the happy "few," 
 And friendship's lovely charms pursue, 
 Yes ever 'round our hearts shall twine 
 The tendrils of this plant Divine. 
 
 And we will "knit" our souls so strong 
 Not even Death, shall part us long, 
 For Heavenward we will stretch our wings 
 When its dark pall it o'er us flings. 
 
 Then we will tune our highest lays, 
 The God. who made us friends, to praise- 
 Arid all the host shall catch the flame, 
 And friendship, claim immortal name. 
 
 'THE THREE REQUISITES TO A JUST IMAGINA- 
 TION." 
 
 "An eye that can see nature. 
 A heart that can feel nature. 
 A resolution that dare follow nature." 
 
J* "BEAUTIFUL THOUGH TS^ 
 
 I LOVE THEE DEAREST MARY. 
 
 Written at the age of 19 years. 
 
 When gentle breezes swiftly play 
 Their farewell to the parting day, 
 When twilight's silence all profound 
 And twilight's shadows linger 'round, 
 When distant notes frem herded throng 
 Blend with the streams their vesper song, 
 Oh, then, if thou art sad and lone 
 Hear thy Angelina's soothing tone, 
 "I love thee, Dearest Mary." 
 
 When morning birds and fragrant dew 
 Another busy day renew; 
 When morning skies serenely bright, 
 Reflect on earth their purest light, 
 When morning flowers to Sun and air 
 Their little chalices unbare; 
 And all is fresh and calm and still, 
 And holiest, thoughts thy bosom fill, 
 Oh, then, if thou art sad and lone, 
 Hear thy Angeline's soothing tone, 
 "I love thee, Dearest Mary." 
 
 * When pleasure streams run clear and h'gh 
 And bright its waves before thee lie, 
 When summer joys around thee flow, 
 And friends their kindest smiles bestow, 
 When o'er thy charmed, thy raptured soul, 
 The sweetest sounds in transports roll, 
 Then blended, hear Angelia's song, 
 Borne on the dewy gale along, 
 "I love thee, Dearest Mary." 
 
 But should misfortune's icy grasp 
 In its cold arms my Mary clasp, 
 And with its wild its chilling breath, 
 Sweep o'er thy form its blasts of death, 
 Should thou, dear friend, become a prey 
 To sorrow's sad unfeeling sway, 
 If paths of woe thy feet shall track, 
 And deepest grief thy bosom rack, 
 Then let thy burdened spirit rise 
 Above the bright, the fair blue skies, 
 To Him, who yields that peace alone, 
 Thy grief-bound soul would call its own. 
 
u BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 33 
 
 nemember, too, Angeline's soul, 
 Though widest seas between us roll, 
 Shall never from its purpose swerve, 
 Faithful at Friendship's shrine to serve, 
 Whatever paths thy feet pursue, 
 Think of that .soul as ever true, 
 Wherever it shall find a home, 
 Let thither thy loved spirit roam, 
 My kindest wishes on thee rest, 
 Thy life with purest joys be blest, 
 And while I say this last adieu,. 
 Let me the darling theme renew, 
 "I love thee, Dearest Mary." 
 Cornwall, Vt., May 20, 1839. 
 
 LINES WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF A FRIEND. 
 Written at the age of IS years. 
 
 Though those alone of present worth 
 Deserve thy memories' faithful prayer, 
 
 Yet while I have a home on earth 
 May I not humbly claim thy care? 
 
 And though dark fate exiles me far, 
 
 Where strangers I shall only find, 
 Vermont shall be my memory's star, 
 
 And lure me back to friends behind. 
 
 And though I may not think to share 
 The ills and storms that life betide, 
 
 One star as brilliant as the Sun 
 Alone our wandering feet can guide. 
 
 That star is virtue — bright it sheds 
 Its lustre o'er life's darksome way, 
 And beams upon bewildered heads 
 The brightness of Celestial day. 
 
 And one there lives, whose watchful eye 
 Is ever on the lowly — wise, 
 Who kindly hears the humble cry 
 From his bright realm above the sky. 
 
 Then we will trust in His kind care 
 
 Ana in his powerful arm confide, 
 Till we may bliss with angels share 
 
 Far, far beyond time's troubled tide. 
 
34 "BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS^ 
 
 LINES WRITTEN ON THE DEATH OF A COUSIN, 
 SHELDON PARMERLY. 
 
 Written at the age oflS years. 
 
 This young man was studying for the ministry and 
 died just as he was to begin his life work. 
 
 Why; visions of the dead — why make me start? 
 Oh, thoughts of one beloved — Why rend the heart? 
 Oh, pangs of deep regret — why tear the soul? 
 And floods of living grief — why o'er the bosom roll? 
 
 'Tis all for Sheldon, his sad seeming fate, 
 To die, when hopes were highest — heart elate, 
 When joys were brightest, life itself most dear, 
 When every tie seemed strengthened to retain him 
 here. 
 
 Could I portray the virtues/ of this youth 
 
 In all the glowing lustre of their truth, 
 
 I'd set them forth, a tribute to his praise 
 
 And they should guide the world to imitate his ways. 
 
 For all who knew him, loved his pious worth 
 And ranked him with the happy "few on earth;" 
 Even impious souls, his words of love embraced, 
 And ne'er from one fond heart, will his memory be 
 erased. 
 
 Oh, what well-meaning love-fraught schemes of good 
 What hopes of rendering the Redeemer's blood, 
 The sanctifying draught, to sin-bound hearts, 
 Are crushed and rent, to Sheldon, in death's recent 
 darts. 
 
 What disappointment seized him, when the thought 
 Rushed o'er him, that he must so soon depart — 
 So soon leave those who shared his early toys, 
 And claimed with him, parental smiles; and child- 
 hood's joys. 
 
 But mark what joys light up his visage now, 
 What looks of rapture kindle on his brow; 
 His deathless spirit triumphs to unite, 
 His Mother, Angels, Sainted Spirits — in delight. 
 
 He thirsted here for goodness and for God, 
 He now, me trust, reaps his deserved reward, 
 And wihle his purer spirit shines on high, 
 We treasure up his worth, and in his God rely. 
 
14 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 33 
 
 EPITHALAMIUM, (A Nuptial Feast.) 
 
 Written at the age of VJ years. 
 
 'Twa.s a bright happy day, but as bright were the 
 
 scenes 
 That enlivened its gay passing hours. 
 For brighter the hopes on which innocence beams 
 Than the sunshine today, with tomorrow's dark 
 
 showers, 
 
 (Chill blasts may sweep o'er them, and seem for 
 
 awhile 
 To have cast them on Death's frozen shore, 
 But quickly they brighten and sweeter they smile 
 When the breath of the blast is gone o'er.) 
 
 'Tis enough; 'twill awake happy thoughts in the 
 
 mind 
 Of the noble and guiltless and pure 
 That hands were united in Hymen's soft bands 
 And love in soft ties was secure. 
 
 Like two beautiful s.: reams as they roll on the way 
 
 And ripple and dance in the sun, 
 
 Till meeting and mingling in magic display 
 
 To the fathomless Ocean they run. 
 
 So thus, may bright streams of affection and love 
 From fountains of purity run, 
 So thus, in smooth channels as peacefully move 
 Till commingled together in one. 
 
 Then fairer the green banks, sweeter the flowers 
 That lave their bright cups on its breast, 
 And swiftly it passes the evergreen bowers 
 That on its bright shores are at rest. 
 
 Then, gathering beauty and strength as it flows 
 To the fathomless "Ocean of Rest," 
 It gently rolls on, till it rests on the shores 
 That* repose on the land of the Blest. 
 
 1 wished those fond beings that ever as sure 
 The bright Sun of Hope might arise, 
 That sorrows and shadows might never obscure 
 The light of that sun from their eyes. 
 
 T wished them contentment, and pleasure and joy, 
 And (if ever a wish was sincere), 
 It was that their pleasures might find no alloy 
 With the false ones that flatter us here. 
 
jd il BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 
 
 FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 Written at the age of 18 years. 
 
 Oh, friendship; sacred plant, transplanted from 
 
 The rich nursery of Heaven, to earth's 
 
 Cold, barren, soil. Retaining still from thence 
 
 Its beautiful and tender foliage, 
 
 Lively hues, and rich and luscious fragrance. 
 
 And this for what? To Wither, fade and die? 
 
 And thus on all the rest, throw out a rank 
 
 And putrid odor, and ta.nt them deeper 
 
 With pollution, even now too deep? No; 
 
 Not thus to prove a curse, a bitter thing; 
 
 But, ah, a gift from God, a plant from Heaven; 
 
 Here even here, to thrive and stretch high o'er 
 
 The rest, its leafy boughs, and serve a kind 
 
 Protector — a beacon bright, to ward them 
 
 'Gainst approaching ill. Yet more — to twine its 
 
 Clasping tendrils 'round our hearts, and draw us 
 
 Nearer, closer, firmer to each other — 
 
 An emblem thus, of the pure love, that fills 
 
 The angelic hosts of heaven. 
 
 Oh friendship — hallowed name; we crave thy 
 
 Signet on our fervent hearts and ever 
 
 Mean to bear about thy lovely image. 
 
 We mean to be that "few on earth" who dare 
 
 To claim thee. Oh, may thou ever thrive — Yes, 
 
 Ever find congenial soil in our fond 
 
 Hearts. There, pruned and cultivated, may thou never 
 
 Cease to thrive, 1 11 Death shall call us hence. And 
 
 May thou ever when we've bid adieu to 
 
 Earth, find other hands to rear thee, till the 
 
 Last trump shall sound to an unnumbered throng. 
 
 The knell of time departed. May then the 
 
 Angel of the Lord transplant thee, in thy 
 
 Native clime— thy happy paradise — where 
 
 ^he hosts of Heaven, will ever love to 
 
 Cherish and adore thee. There may thou bloom 
 
 Through never-ending ages and a long 
 
 A long Eternity. 
 
 "Friendship of all ties most binds the heart. 
 And faith in friendship is the noblest part." 
 
«• BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 37 
 
 "ONE STEP MORE." 
 
 Q 
 
 What though before me it is dark, 
 
 Too dark for me to see, 
 I ask but light enough for one step more, 
 
 'Tis quite enough for me. 
 
 Each little humble step I take, 
 The gloom clears from the next, 
 
 So though 'tis very dark beyond, 
 I never am perplexed. 
 
 And if sometimes the mist hangs close, 
 
 So close, I fear to stray, 
 Patient I wait a little while 
 
 And soon it clears away. 
 
 I would not see my further path 
 
 For mercy veils it. so, 
 My present steps might harder be, 
 
 Did I the future know. 
 
 It may be that my path is rough, 
 
 Thorny and hard, and steep; 
 And knowing this my strength might fail 
 
 Through fear and terror deep. 
 
 It may be that it winds along 
 
 A smooth and flowing way, 
 But seeing this I might despise 
 
 The journey of today. 
 
 Perhaps my path is very short, 
 
 My journey nearly done; 
 And I might tremble at the thought 
 
 Of ending it so soon. 
 
 Or if I saw a weary length 
 
 Of road that I must wend, 
 Fainting I'd think my feeble powers 
 
 Will fail me ere the end. 
 
 And so I do not wish to know 
 
 My journey or its length, 
 Assured that through my Father's love, 
 
 Each step will bring its strength. 
 
38 " BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS^ 
 
 Thus, step by step I onward go, 
 
 Not looking far before, 
 Trusting that I shall always have 
 
 Just light enough for "One step more." 
 
 I THINK OF FRIENDS WITH ME AND FRIENDS 
 FAR AWAY. 
 
 Written at the age of IS years. 
 
 When the cares of the day absorbingly seem 
 To envelope my mind in a dark hazy dream, 
 When I carelessly seem every friend to forget, 
 And no one scarce dreams, I a thought can beget, 
 When youthful emotions of joy and delight 
 Seem to render me buoyant, and cheerful and light. 
 Whether cheerful or gloomy, or silent or gay, 
 I think of friends with me and friends far away. 
 
 When the soft breath of morning, embalmed with the 
 
 dew 
 Invigorates ajl nature, all nature anew, 
 When I at my window, am seated the while, 
 Ere the Sun's beaming graces, have drawn forth a 
 
 smile, 
 Enjoying the "thinking, and feeling and loving," 
 Which the fond/ heart enjoys in this hour of the 
 
 morning, 
 Oh, then, when thoughts travel with lightning's swift 
 
 ray, 
 I think of friends with me and friends far away. 
 
 When the Sun, low-descending, throws brightly be- 
 hind, 
 A ray to enliven and cheer the lone mind, 
 When solitude's silence and charms I possess, 
 And soft winds breath lightly and wild flowers ca- 
 ress, 
 When too their soft breathings I feel on my cheek, 
 And I, welcoming meet them, in some calm retreat. 
 Oh then, when thoughts travel with lightning's swift 
 
 ray, 
 I think of friends with me and friends far away. 
 
"BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS:' 39 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 Written ai the aye of ID years. 
 
 Go when the morning shineth, 
 
 Go when the moon is bright, 
 Go when the eve declmeth, 
 
 Go in the hush of night; 
 Go with pure mind and feeling, 
 
 Fling earthly thoughts away, 
 And in thy chamber kneeling, 
 
 Do thou in secret, pray. 
 
 Remember all who love thee; 
 
 And all who are loved by thee; 
 Omit all who are loved by thee; 
 
 If any such there be; 
 Then for thyself in meekness, 
 
 A blessing humbly claim, 
 And link with each petition 
 
 Thy great Redeemer's name. 
 
 Or if 'tis e'er denied thee 
 
 In solitude to pray; 
 Should holy thoughts come o'er thee, 
 
 When friends are round thy way, 
 E'en the silent breathing 
 
 Of thy spirit raised above, 
 Will reach His throne of glory, 
 
 Who is Mercy, Truth and Love. 
 
 Oh. not a joy or blessing 
 
 With this can we compare, 
 The power that He hath given us, 
 
 To pour our souls in prayer; 
 Whene'er thou pinest in sadness, 
 
 Before his footstool fall, 
 And remember in thy gladness, 
 
 His grace who gave thee all. 
 
 "Count that day lost whose low descending sun, 
 views from thy hand no worthy action done." 
 
40 '« BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS: 
 
 TO MARY, (My Sister.) 
 
 
 
 Mary, it is a lovely name, 
 Thrice hallowed in the rolls of fame, 
 Not for the blazonry of mirth, 
 Nor honors springing from the earth; 
 But what Evangelists have told, 
 Of three who bore that name of old; 
 Mary, the Mother of our Lord, 
 Mary, who sat to hear His word, 
 And Mary Magdeline to whom 
 He came, while weeping o'er his tomb, 
 These to that humble name apply 
 A glory which can never die. 
 Mary, my prayer for you shall be, 
 May you in pious love b» all the three. 
 
1 1 
 
 )D£C W KW*