The Harvest Day; And Other Poems (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1859 Excerpt: ...there; For I suspected by her looks, She was in trouble or at prayer. Ah there the lovely maiden stood, Beside her milk-pail and her cow, Sighing, alone, while sorrow's drop Stream'd mournfully adown her brow. A lover was, perhaps, the cause Of that deep sigh, of that sad tear, A lover who lay then, perchance, Beneath a grassy sod somewhere. Or ah perhaps a mother was The reason she thus hung her head, A mother newly torn from home, And laid to slumber with the dead. Leaving her there beside her pail, Lamenting home I trod my way, And thought she look'd like a flower sweet Hurt by a thoughtless blast in May. A VISIT TO THE CHAMBEK OE AFFLICTION. To visit one, who aged on her bed, Lay smitten with affliction's sickly hand, One Autumn evening, with the man of God, The pastor of the parish, virtuous man, One aye who sought how to alleviate Pain, and a solace to administer, To those hard verging on the tomb, I went. The rippling murmurs of the woodland streams, Were tranquil chiming on the evening breeze, The sun was lowering lovely in the west, And the tired reaper with his weary scythe, Towards his ivy cot, was plodding slow, As away together we left our home. Talking we went, along a winding path, Over stiles, cross'd by many a passenger, Till to the dwelling of the sick we came. Near to the cot, humm'd loud a little stream, Stealing away its shrubby banks between, And teaching us, as to the waves it strayed, That we ourselves were on a pilgrimage, And, after many a barrier, many a bend, Winding through ills of time, should reach at last, The far-off coast of yon eternity. Into the house we walk'd, and sat where lay She that was on the bed of pain, sighing, With care-worn wrinkles of long eighty years, Deep furrow'd on her sunken, wither'd cheeks, While th...