Jane Caroline Reed Copy Book: Excerpt from an unknown poem by G.S. Laxer

 

Lucy and Jane Reed

"It is all well! God's good design I see,
That Whom our treasure is, our heart may be."
                                                    G.S. Laxer

Jane Caroline Redd Copy Book: Excerpt from Locksley Hall by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

 

Jane Caroline Reed, Edward, David and David Joy Wright

"Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new;
That which they have done but earnest of the things that they shall do."

                                                                                    Locksley Hall

Jane Caroline Reed's Copy Book: Woman's Heart from the German

Jane Caroline Reed and David Sanders Wright

Woman's Heart from the German

Gods angels took a little drop of dew,
New fallen from heaven's far-off blue,
And a fair rivlet of the valley's green.
Shedding its perfumes in the morn's soft sheen
And a forget-me-not so small and bright-
Laid all together gently, out of sight,
Within the chalice of the lily white!
With humbleness and grace they covered it-
Made purity and sadness near to sit;
And added pride to this, and sighs - a few,
One wish, but half a hope, and bright tears too;
Courage and sweetness in misfortune's smart,
And out of this they moulded-Woman's heart!

Northampton, Mass. Cassell's Magazine
Dec 7, 1867

 

Jane Caroline Reed Copy Book: Excerpt from Haste not! Rest not by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe, 1769

Lucy and Jane Reed

"Haste not! rest not! calmly wait,
Meekly fear the storms of fate;
Duty be thy polar guide;-
Do the right whate'er betide!
Haste not! rest not! conflicts past,
God shall crown they work at last."

Goethe

Jane Caroline Reed Copy Book: The Heart of the War by Josiah Gilbert Holland

Jane Caroline Reed

The Heart of the War

Peace in the clover-scented air,
And stars within the dome;

And underneath, in dim repose;

A plain, New-England home.

Within, a murmur of low tones

And sighs from hearts oppressed,

Merging in prayer, at last, that brings

The balm of silent rest.

Jane Caroline Reed Copy Book: Kathrina by Josiah Gilbert Holland

Jane Caroline Reed

Kathrina-Complaint

Yet within my inmost spirit I can hear an undertone,
That by law of prime relation hold these voices as its own, --

The full tonic whose harmonic grandeurs rise through 

    Nature's words. 

From the ocean's thunderous rolling to the trolling of the birds.

Spirit, O my spirit! Is it thou art out of tune?

Art thou clinging to December while the earth is in 

    its June?

Hast thou dropped they part in nature? Hast thou

    touched another key?

Art thou angry that the anthem will not, cannot,

    wait for thee?

Spirit thou art left alone - alone on waters wild;

For God is gone, and Love is dead, + Nature spurns

    her child.

Thou art drifting in a deluge, waves below + clouds

    above,

And with weary wings come back to thee, thy raven + thy dove.

Oct 15, 1887                                            Dr. Holland

Jane Caroline Reed Copy Book: Last part of the Burial of the Dead by the Rev Thomas Tylecote

Jane Caroline Reed Wright and David Sanders Wright

Yet hush; thou troubled spirit,

Be calm thou restless will.

For thee come o'er the waters

Those sweet word "Peace be still".

For thee those angel whispers,

That breathe the hope ere long

With them to share the Palm-wreath,

To sing the conqueror's song.

Miss Tylecott

Living age

Aug 24. 1867

Jane Caroline Reed Copy Book: First Part of The Burial of the Dead

Jane Caroline Reed Wright and David Sanders Wright

When Autumn leaves are falling

And Golden gleams the West;

We seem to lay more gently

Our dear ones down to rest;

Safe in kind Nature's bosom

We lay them down to sleep,

And pray that holy angels

Round them their watch may keep.

by the Rev. Thomas Tylecott

Jane Caroline Reed's Copy Book: The Blue and the Gray by F.M. Finch

Jane Caroline Reed

The Blue + the Gray

By the flow of the inland river,
Whence the fleets of the iron have fled,
Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,
Asleep are the ranks of the dead;-
Under the sod and the dew,
Waiting the judgment day;-
Under the one, the Blue;
Under the other, the Gray.

Those in the robings of glory,
Those in the gloom of defeat,
All with the battle-blood gory
In the duck of eternity meet;-
Under the sod + the dew;
Waiting the judgement day;-
Under the laurel, the Blue;
Under the willow, the Gray.

From the silence of sorrowful hearts

The desolate mourners go,

Lovingly laden with flowers

Alike, for the friend + the foe;-

Under the sod + the dew,

Waiting the judgement day;-

Under the roses, the Blue,

Under the lilies, the Gray.

So with an equal splendor

The morning sun-rays fall,

With a touch, impartially tender,

On the blossoms blooming for all;

Under the sod + the dew,

Waiting the judgement day;-

Broidered with gold, the Blue;

Mellowed with gold, the Gray.

So when the Summer calleth,

On forest + field of grain

With an equal murmur falleth

The cooling drip of the rain;-

Under the sod + the dew,

Waiting for judgement day;-

Wet with the rain, the Blue:

Wet with the rain, the Gray.

Sadly, but not with upbraiding,

The generous deed was done;

In the storm of the years that are fading,

No braver battle was won;-

Under the sod + the dew,

Waiting the judgement day;-

Under the blossoms, the Blue.

Under the garlands, the Gray.

No more shall the war-cry sever, 

Or the winding rivers be red;

They banish our anger forever

When they laurel the graves of our dead!

Under the sod + the dew,

Waiting the judgement day;-

Love + tears for the Blue,

Tears + love the Gray.

Atlantic Monthly

September 1867-

Jane Caroline Reed's Copy Book: Remonstrance by Jean Ingelow

 

Jane Caroline Reed

Remonstrance

"Daughters of Eve your mother did not well;

She laid the apple in your father's hand,

And we have read, O wonder what befell--

The man was not deceived, not yet could stand;

He chose to lose, for love of her, his throne

For her could die but could not live alone.

Daughters of Eve he did not fall so low

Nor fall so far, as that sweet woman fell;

For something better than as gods to know,

That husband in that home left off to dwell;

For this, till love be reckoned less then lore,

Shall man be first + best forevermore.

Daughters of Eve, it was for your dear sake

The world's first hero died an uncrowned king;

But God's great pity touched the grand mistake,

And made his married love a sacred thing;

For yet his nobler sons, if aught be true,

Find their lost Eden in their love to you."

    Jean Ingelow

Jane Caroline Reed Copy Book: An Excerpt from the "Cherubic Pilgrim by Johannes Angelus Silesius

Jane Caroline Reed, Edward Wright, David Sanders Wright and David Joy Wright

An Excerpt from the "Cherubic Pilgrim by Johannes Angelus Silesius

We pray, "On earth, in Heaven, O Lord, be done thy will,"
And yet God has no will, but is forever still.
    Johannes Angelus Silesius

Jane Caroline Reed's Copy Book: An excerpt from Vivien's Song by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Jane Caroline Reed and David Wright

 An excerpt from Vivien's Song by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

It is the little rift within the lute
That by and by will make the music mute,
And ever widening slowly silence all."
    Vivien's Song

Jane Caroline Reed's Copy Book: An excerpt for Gasper Becerra by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

 

Lucy and Jane Reed

An excerpt for Gasper Becerra by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

O thou sculptor, painter, poet!

Take this lesson to thy heart:

That is best which lieth nearest;

From that shape thy work of art.

    H.W.L.

    

Jane Caroline Reed's Copy Book: A quote by Walter Scott

 

Jane Caroline Reed

This one is a bit odd.  The poem is by Walter Scott but that is not who she attributes it to.  I will do my best with transcribing the name but it is very hard to read.

O woman! in our hours of ease
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light quivering aspen made;
When pain ad anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou!
                                            Mainion

Jane Caroline Reed's Copy Book-Excerpts from Resignation by Longfellow

 

Jane Caroline Reed and David Wright

Excerpts from Resignation

There is no Death! What seems so is transition;

    This life of mortal breath

Is but a suburb of the life elysian,

    Whose portal we call death.

Jane Caroline Reed's copy book-Longfellow qoute

Jane Caroline Reed Wright, Edward Wright, David Wright and David Joy Wright

Though the mills of God grind slowly
    yet the grind exceedingly small;

Though with patience he stands waiting.

    with exactness grinds he all.

                                    H.W. Longfellow

The next poem in Jane Caroline Reed's copy book-The Power of Life

Lucy and Jane Reed

The Power of Life

They are safe in his hands, the tempests
    In his, but not in ours;
No hand may wield the lightning
    But the hand that folds the flowers.

He is the Lord of the winds + thunder,
    But has stronger powers then they;
And the Lord of Life is working,
    He is working everyday.

For the Lord of life is working,
    And his strongest force is life;
Ever with death it wagest
    Silent, victorious strife.

And Truth is strongest then Falsehood,
    And needs but an open field;
And Love is stronger the hatred,
    And Love will never yield.

And one breath of life is stronger
    Than all the hosts of death.

                                Mrs Charlie

The next poem in Jane Caroline Reed's copy book-The Power of Life

The Power of Life

They are safe in his hands, the tempests

    In his, but not in ours;

No hand may wield the lightning

    But the hand that folds the flowers.

He is the Lord of the winds + thunder,

    But has stronger powers then they;

And the Lord of Life is working,

    He is working everyday.

For the Lord of life is working,

    And his strongest force is life;

Ever with death it wagest

    Silent, victorious strife.

And Truth is strongest then Falsehood,

    And needs but an open field;

And Love is stronger the hatred,

    And Love will never yield.

And one breath of life is stronger

    Than all the hosts of death.

                                        Mrs Charlie

Jane Caroline Reed Copy Book-Only

 

Lucy and Jane Caroline Reed

Here is a newspaper clipping that was in Jane's Copy Book:

Only

Only a woman's face,

In the dark night and cold,

But oh! the ghost of a vanish'd grace,

And the pitiful tale it told!

Wrapt in a ragged shawl

(Why was it not her shroud?)

It look'd as white as the moon at night,

Through a rift in a driving cloud.

Only a few poor pence,

And a few kind words addressing;

And all they brought was a kindly thought

And a poor lost woman's blessing.

Does anyone know who wrote this one?  I believe their initials were M.P. 

Jane Caroline Reed Copy Book-The Day is Done

 

Jane Caroline Reed

The Day is Done

The day is done + the darkness

Falls from the wings of Night,

As a feather is wafted downward

From an eagle in its flight.

I see the lights of the village

Gleam through the rain + the mist,

And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me

That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longings,

That is not akin to pain,

And resembles sorrow only

As the mist resembles the rain.

Come read to me some poem,

Some simple and heartfelt lay,

That shall soothe this restless feeling,

And banish the cares of the day.

Not from the grand old masters,

Not from the bards sublime,

Whose distant footsteps echo

Through the corridors of time.

For, like strains of martial music,

Their mighty thoughts suggest

Life's endless toil and endeavor;

And tonight I long for rest.

Read from some humble poet,

Whose songs gushed from his heart,

As showers from the clouds of summer,

Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,

And nights devoid of care,

Still heard in his soul the music

Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet

The restless pulse of care,

And comes like the benediction

That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,

And Lend to the rhyme of the poet

The beauty of the voice.

And the night shall be filled with music,

And the cares, that infest the day,

Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,

And as silently steal away.

H. W. Longfellow

January 5, 1868

As a side note, there is a strange cypher in the upper right conner of the first page of this poem.

From Jane Caroline Reed's Copy Book