University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The lost pleiad ; and other poems

Chivers, T. H. (1809-1858)

collapse section
[section]
 
THE LOST PLEIAD:
 
TO MY MOTHER IN HEAVEN.
 
THE ORPHAN'S PRAYER.
 
THE WIFE'S LAMENT FOR HER HUSBAND LOST AT SEA.
 
TO ONE IN HEAVEN.
 
THE GEORGIAN CAPTIVE.
 
APOSTROPHE TO TIME.
 
CAROL.
 
TO ALLEGRA FLORENCE IN HEAVEN.
 
THE SOUL'S DESTINY.
 
SHELLEY.
 
TO MY FIRST-BORN IN HEAVEN.
 
ON THE DEATH OF MY FIRST-BORN.
 
LAMENT ON THE DEATH OF MY MOTHER.
 
WASHINGTON.
 
THE HEAVENLY VISION.
 
TO SHAKSPEARE DYING.
 
MY SOUL'S JEWEL.
 
THE SALUTATION.
 
SONNET.—TO ISA SLEEPING.
 
SONNET.—THE HUSBAND'S REQUEST.
 
SONNET.—ON THE DEATH OF MY MOTHER.
 
LAMENT ON THE DEATH OF MY MOTHER.
 
THE POET'S LOVE OF FAME.
 
SONG TO ISA.
 
SPRING.
 
SONNET.—MY MOTHER'S LOVE.
 
SONNET.—DEATH.
 
THE PARTING APPEAL.
 
THE PIQUE.
 
AWAKE FROM THY SLUMBERS.
 
THE VOICE OF MY DELIGHT.
 
THE DYING POET.
 
SONG TO ISA IN HEAVEN.
 
SONNET.—MEMORY.
 
SONNET.—THE DYING HUSBAND TO HIS WIFE.
 
TO ALLEGRA FLORENCE.
 
THE VOICELESS EARTH.
 
SONNET.—ON HEARING OF THE DEATH OF MY MOTHER.
 
SONNET.—THE GRAVE.
 
THE CONFESSIONAL.
 
OH, BREAK THE HARP!
 
THE EVENING LAND.
 
ON HEARING VON WEBER'S LAST WALTZ.
 
THE MOTHER'S LAMENT ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD.
 
GOD DWELLS IN LIGHT.
 
ON HEARING A LADY SING.
 
TO MARION IN HEAVEN.
 
TO A LADY SINGING.
 
TO ISA.
 
THE SERENADER'S SONG.
 
ANACREONTIQUE.
 
TO ISA.
 
TO ISA.
 
TO JESSE.
 
SONG TO A FALSE ONE.
 
THE POETRY OF LOVE, JOY, AND GRIEF.
 
TO A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL.
 
FIRST LOVE.
 
SONG TO SPRING.
 
THE DEATH OF JEFFERSON.
 
THE INVOCATION.
 
A LONGING TO KNOW.
 
THE CHERISHED FLOWER.
 
TO ONE FAR AWAY.
 
THE SPIRIT'S YEARNINGS.

collapse section Collapse All | Expand All expand section
previous section The lost pleiad ; and other poems
next section

THE DYING POET.

“I feel the daisies growing over me!”
Keats' Dying Words.

A little while this storm shall rage,
And then 't will all be o'er!
The cold, dark blood will then engage
My failing heart no more!
The fiery soul that fed on love,
From this worn frame must part;
And there, forever more, above,
Live mateless from my heart!
The dismal, shadowy vale that lies
In Death's dark region there,
Is now between my tearful eyes
And Heaven—where all is fair!
My young years' youngest flowers that grew,
And garlanded my brow,
Are slain beneath the heavy dew,
And all are withered now!
I see that earth cannot suffice
To give my spirit rest;
I now must go above the skies,
And sing among the blest.
Oaky Grove, Ga., May 10th, 1837.
previous section The lost pleiad ; and other poems
next section