seems to have made were for the years 1852 and 1853. Those for 1855
and 1860 were entered in a "daily miniature diary." We find none for
other years, though she always kept her pen and pencil busy in some
way as long as she had strength to write. The diary for 1855 is in
rhyme-- usually six lines being allotted to each day. While some of the
verses are playful and witty, most of them are religious and plaintive.
The following are given as specimens:
"Arose at six o'clock today: How swift the moments sped away
Engaged in household duties; Then Virgil claimed awhile my care, And
Pope of time a larger share, With all his sweets and beauties."
"Mr. Goodenough and wife Came here yesterday; Through the
changing scenes of life Onward be their way; And never may their path
be rough So long as they are Good-enough."
"Received of Robinson to-day For my 'Address' a little pay: The first of
cash I ever had For writing verses, good or bad. O Lord, whate'er my
gains may be The tenth I dedicate to thee."
"I would not seek the haunts of mirth, For in the gayest scenes of earth
Are hovering grief and care; But oft I find a soothing power, At
twilight's calm and peaceful hour, In secret prayer."
"Jesus, oh, precious name! How sweet it sounds to me; Come want,
come grief, come death or shame I'll cling, my Lord, to thee."
"I'd rather be distressed with doubts And find no sweet release, Than be
content to settle down In false repose and peace; But, ah! I wish I knew
my name In the Lamb's book a place could claim."
"While here distressed I lie, What joy my heart doth thrill At the
enchanting thought, That Jesus loves me still!"
"Sweet Sabbath morn! to me it brings, As if on angel's airy wings,
Visions of peace and rest: I seem to stand upon the plains Where an
eternal Sabbath reigns, And dwell the pure and blest.
"I wept--when lo, my heart to cheer J---- sobbing whispered in my ear:
'Don't cry, for I will serve the Lord;' How sweet the sound! what great
reward." [Psa. 126:5,6].
"How little comfort have I known In this dark vale of tears! For Sorrow
marked me for her own In childhood's early years. And ever since, by
night and day, Has hovered round my lonely way."
"'Twas nearly two--but sleep had fled My pillow for the night; I
rose--but all was dark around, And I could find no light: And then I
knelt and prayed for those Who, like me, found no sweet repose."
"Sick, sick, sick, And gloomy all the day; Sick, sick, sick, Thus life
wears away."
"Murmur not, my troubled soul, At thy Father's dealings; Wild the
billows round thee roll: Yield not to the feelings Of despair that gather
round: Troubles rise not from the ground." [Job 5:6-8].
"How many souls around the throne Once suffered here like me,-- Like
me discouraged, tempted, tried, But now for ever free: They shout their
griefs and trials o'er; Then let me fear and doubt no more."
"At home all day; I cannot pray, Can neither read nor think: O God, I
cry; the waves roll high, Support me or I sink."
"Did I murmur that the rod Was so heavy, O my God? I forgot the
cursed tree, I forgot Gethsemane, I forgot the grief and pain-- May I
ne'er forget again."
"Unworthy, wretched as I am I hope for mercy through the Lamb: His
name, his glorious name prevails When every other passport fails; It
opens Heaven's eternal gate; Then, doubting soul, why longer wait?"
"Sabbath after Sabbath comes; When will dawn the endless day?
Swiftly roll the wheels of time, Swiftly pass the hours away; Brighter
and brighter from afar View we now 'the Morning Star.'"
"And we, alas! are called to part: 'Farewell' is said, with aching heart;
But God will watch o'er thee I ween, And guide thee through each
trying scene, My dearest sister Josephine!"
"The glorious sun-- His race has run, And sweetly sought repose: O
that for me This life might be As bright--as calm its close!"
"What an awful peal of thunder! O my soul, be still and wonder; Yet
another, and another-- Each one louder than the other; God of heaven, I
see thy power, May I feel it hour by hour."
"A thousand twinkling stars to-night Look down with soft and silvery
light And tell the majesty divine Of Him who gives them leave to shine.
Oh, what an atom must I be, And yet He loves and cares for me!"
"The wheels of Time-how swift they roll! Dost thou consider, O my
soul, That it shall soon be said
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