Lines
Read at a gathering of the oldest people of Wilton, at Miss Sarah Livermore’s, November, 1870.
Now far advanced in life we’re here,
To visit one long held most dear;
Though we have all been young and gay,
Time’s rolling years have worked decay.
Though lingering here on earth’s broad shore,
Life’s journey must be nearly o’er;
And may this friendly, gathering call,
A blessing prove to one and all.
Convened here, then, be this our aim,
To make each other glad we came;
In union these rich blessings share,
And say, ’Twas good that we were there.
Refreshed, we’d patiently pursue
This last part of our journey through.
On those who entertain these guests,
Would ask that they be doubly blest.
We would not fail while here to see
All we’re required to do and be.
Would advocate and teach the right,
Still hastening toward perfection’s hight.
Earth’s pleasures then will be increased
By this delightful, social feast,
And we prepared to meet in Heaven,
Where joys eternal will be given.
On the death of my husband, Samuel Smith.
Gone is my husband, no more shall I see
That kind look of love as he smiled upon me.
I cherished and loved him; and who can tell
My anguish while on his departure I dwell?
Long I have been with him, in sickness and health,
Shared in his losses, and enjoyed with him wealth;
He lives in my memory, lives in my heart,
His virtues are printed there, ne’er to depart.
Fast were we joined by the tenderest ties,
And lonely I mourn o’er the grave where he lies.
I hear not his steps, but the lone place I see,
Where oft his kind words have been spoken to me.
I miss him while gather the shadows of night;
I miss him when dawns the fair morning light.
I miss him—but where are the words to express
The depth of my grief in such loneliness.
I smile when I’m sad, and seem joyful in grief;
When alone bitter tears are my only relief;
Bruised now is the heart by the blow that has come,
Dark now the dear spot, once so bright as my home.
Though wealth were my portion, and splendor surround,
More empty ’twould seem while the loved was not found.
With him I’d be blest, though earth’s treasures were few,
And trouble should prove my affection more true.
Oft I imagine each member is here,
Those pledges of love and affection so dear,
I view the loved circle, but ah! there’s a space—
’Tis vacant, and nought can to me fill the place.
But those left behind, his dear image reveal,
Who only affection and sympathy feel;
Their kindness I know, the returns of their love,
And ask for them blessings that come from above.
But he’s gone to the grave, where, free from all care,
He knows not the grief which for him I now bear.
There rest till our Saviour shall bid thee arise;
Then may we immortal ascend to the skies.
With this hope I can triumph o’er earth’s deepest gloom,
The dearest and loveliest can yield to the tomb;
When bowed in submission, my Saviour appears,
Bids me trust in his word, and refrain from my tears.