22
POEMS BY MISS ELIZA JANE STEPHENS.
And echoes of each loved one's voice
Seem wafted from the happier shore,
In all those sweet inspiring tones
That we shall hear on earth no more.
Seem wafted from the happier shore,
In all those sweet inspiring tones
That we shall hear on earth no more.
Those friends still cheer us with such smiles
As now their angel faces wear.
Beloved ones, they're safe at home,
And wait for us that home to share.
As now their angel faces wear.
Beloved ones, they're safe at home,
And wait for us that home to share.
MUSINGS.
My brain is tired with ceaseless thought
Of how I best can fill my place,
No word unsaid, no work undone,
That can uplift in faith and grace.
Of how I best can fill my place,
No word unsaid, no work undone,
That can uplift in faith and grace.
So if my hands are tired, 'tis well,
I need not murmur or complain
If they can help some burdens bear,
Or give relief to want and pain.
I need not murmur or complain
If they can help some burdens bear,
Or give relief to want and pain.
And if my feet make journeys oft
That bring to me no blest return,
If they are treading duty's path
I will not grudge the wage they earn.
That bring to me no blest return,
If they are treading duty's path
I will not grudge the wage they earn.
These heartaches will e'er long be o'er,
So these regrets for joys now fled,
Then may I gently pass beyond
Without one thought of fear or dread.
So these regrets for joys now fled,
Then may I gently pass beyond
Without one thought of fear or dread.
THE SILENT MEETING.
Quaker hill is a lovely place
When gentle summer lingers there,
Its meadows are the richest green,
Its orchards fairest of the fair.
When gentle summer lingers there,
Its meadows are the richest green,
Its orchards fairest of the fair.
There's fragrance borne on every breeze
Prom flowers of brightest, rarest hue,
And woodland warblers seem to vie
In always singing something new.
Prom flowers of brightest, rarest hue,
And woodland warblers seem to vie
In always singing something new.
But when stern winter's icy breath
Makes brown the trees and white the earth,
Then desolation reigns supreme
O'er all except the cottage hearth.
Makes brown the trees and white the earth,
Then desolation reigns supreme
O'er all except the cottage hearth.
But there in friendship's sweetest guise
The neighbors meet and while away
In pleasant games and social chat
The closing hours each winter's day.
The neighbors meet and while away
In pleasant games and social chat
The closing hours each winter's day.
A conscientious people, they.
Attentive are to duty's call,
And often meet and ask the aid
Of Him, who cares alike for all.
Attentive are to duty's call,
And often meet and ask the aid
Of Him, who cares alike for all.
But so it happe'd one meeting day,
'Twas so extremely cold, that then
Of all that worthy brotherhood,
None ventured forth but two old men.
'Twas so extremely cold, that then
Of all that worthy brotherhood,
None ventured forth but two old men.
They reached the church and made a fire,
For warmth they had not long to wait.
A silent meeting oft was held,
So both sat down to meditate.
For warmth they had not long to wait.
A silent meeting oft was held,
So both sat down to meditate.
They were at peace with all the world,
At peace with conscience sure to keep,
And in that stupifying warmth
The two old men soon fell asleep.
At peace with conscience sure to keep,
And in that stupifying warmth
The two old men soon fell asleep.
The sun had reached the western sky,
But flight of time disturbed them not.
Their's was a calm, unbroken rest,
All cares and griefs alike forgot.
But flight of time disturbed them not.
Their's was a calm, unbroken rest,
All cares and griefs alike forgot.
The hours wore on, and shades of night
Soon wrapped the outward world in gloom.
But still the fire burned warm and bright,
And beautified that homely room.
Soon wrapped the outward world in gloom.
But still the fire burned warm and bright,
And beautified that homely room.
Their friends, now in a great alarm,
Unto the church in haste could come,
They roused them from a slumber deep,
And much amused, all journeyed home.
Unto the church in haste could come,
They roused them from a slumber deep,
And much amused, all journeyed home.
Quakerhill, a beautiful hamlet in Duchess County, N. Y... so named from its Society of Friends, or Quakers.
