The Snow-Drop Part 9

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When trees were all leafless, and snow-clad the ground, Sweet pleasures at home in our cottage we found; 'Round our bright blazing fire, we'd work, read, or play, And find sweet employment to fill up each day.

And when evening came, the old hearth we'd surround, While you cracked the nuts, which in autumn we found, I tended my kittens, and made up their bed, You made them a yoke and a nice little sled.

We heard the hens cackle, and thought we were blest, You flew to the hayloft, and found a full nest, Then caught up the treasure, and smiled as you run, With a hat full of eggs, and a head full of fun.

We ran on the snow-crust like fleet nimble deer, Until our fair cheeks would like rosebuds appear.

I never was lonesome, and never afraid, If Hiram, my brother, for company stayed.

O, then we were happy in winter or spring, Yes, happier far than the happiest king.

You grew up to manhood, and left your old home, But may you he happy wherever you roam.

I ne'er can forget how it made my heart grieve, When you of the precious old homestead took leave; I feared that with business and cares overrun, You'd soon cease to love me as once you had done;

And earth would be shrouded in sadness and gloom, If I, in your heart, could not always find room.

Though care leaves a shadow on thy manly brow, Thy heart's warm affections are mirrored there now.

But when you are with me a brief s.p.a.ce to stay, I'm all the while thinking you'll soon go away; Yet we shall soon meet in a far distant land, G.o.d grant it may be at the Savior's right hand.

MY BROTHER IN THE TEMPEST.

'Twas summer, and a sultry day Was drawing to a close, One cloud, along the northwest lay, Which tardily arose.

Along a winding path we strayed, Which through the forest led, While not one gentle zephyr swayed The branches overhead.

Deep mutt'ring thunders soon were heard, Dark shadows gathered round; The trees, at intervals, were stirred By gusts of threat'ning sound.

The hurricane arose in wrath, The rain in torrents poured; Huge trees were flung across our path, Loud cras.h.i.+ng thunders roared.

When vivid lightnings round us blazed, He told me not to fear; My little trembling hand he seized, And checked the rising tear.

Loud thunders through the forest pealed; He smiled, and cheered me on, Exclaiming, "we'll soon reach the field, Then all the danger's gone."

But soon, in hurried tones he said, "Run, sister, run with me, Look! look! directly o'er your head, Behold that falling tree!"

But, while I heard the warning sound Rise o'er the raging storm, Its double trunk had clasped around My little trembling form.

Why did my brother linger there, Nor strive to gain the field?

Torn branches filled the darkened air, Huge trees above us reeled.

Like some stern warrior on the field, 'Midst danger, death, and strife, He stood, determined not to yield, Until he saved my life.

That awful tempest, and thy care, My mem'ry still retains, Engraved upon those tablets fair, 'Twill live while life remains.

LINES

ADDRESSED TO AN ABSENT SISTER.

Dear sister, though absent, your image is bright, It dwells in my heart and prompts me to write; Your health, is it blooming, your spirits in cheer?

You know 'twould rejoice me, such tidings to hear.

The din of the village, and hum of the mill, Can they charm my sister like our quiet vale?

Does our little cottage seem humble and mean, Embosomed with trees, and surrounded with green?

Like father and mother, are those where you dwell?

Like brothers and sisters who love you so well?

Or do you look forward and sigh for that hour, When we shall all meet in your jessamine bower?

Where vines that you planted, will wave o'er your head, And nature's green carpet sweet odors will shed; Each cool breeze is playing with flowers growing near, Which sister has planted, our spirits to cheer.

Your roses and lilacs, among the pine trees, Are swarming with b.u.t.terflies, humbirds, and bees; I view them each morning, all spark'ling with dew, And fancy they're emblems of sisters like you.

Come home and do housework, tend poultry and flowers, At noontide recline in our cool shady bowers; Could not such employment still yield you delight, Where birds are all singing from morning till night?

Soon summer is coming, your flow'rets will bloom, And spread new enchantments around your old home; Our grove by the river in beauty is drest, The Whippowil's notes sweetly soothe us to rest.

The sun, in mild splendor, sinks down in the west, Encircling with glory the old mountain's crest; The clouds o'er his head glow with purple and gold, The river is catching the tinge of each fold.

The scene would be lovely, if sister was here, But now I'm so lonely, it looks sad and drear; The beauties of nature are losing their charms, No more to divert me, till clasped in your arms.

But I'm growing weary, I'll draw to a close, And seek for refreshment in needful repose; If this, from a sister can give you delight, Retire to your chamber, this evening, and write.

Adieu, my dear sister, until your return Sweet home will be dreary, and almost forlorn; May G.o.d be your guide, your supporter and stay, Directing your footsteps, wherever you stray.

A MORNING SCENE

ON A SISTER'S WEDDING DAY.

Dear sister, when they called thee bride, That sound, my spirits deeply tried; My heart, at that one little word, Through every trembling fibre stirred.

I'd still a place within thy heart, But oh, I felt it hard to part; And that long dreaded hour had come, When thou must leave thy childhood's home.

But that sad morn; a pleasant sight Cast o'er the future gleams of light; I listened, and the voice of prayer Ascended on the morning air.

'Twas then, I thought the heavenly dove Gave us a token of his love, For, in the western heavens, now Appeared a bright resplendent bow.

'Twas lovely as that arch displayed When Noah by the altar prayed; That sacred scene could but impart A gleam of suns.h.i.+ne to my heart.

O, 'twas a consecrated hour, When, through that sweet refres.h.i.+ng shower The morning sunbeams brightly smiled, And whispered, trust thy Father, child.

The Snow-Drop Part 9

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The Snow-Drop Part 9 summary

You're reading The Snow-Drop Part 9. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Sarah S. Mower already has 452 views.

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