Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

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Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton, Lady Stirling-Maxwell (née Sheridan; 22 March 1808 – 15 June 1877) was an English social reformer and author active in the early and mid-nineteenth century.
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OW she lies, who blest our eyes Through many a sunny day;
She may not smile, she will not rise-- The life hath past away
Yet there is a world of light beyond, Where we neither die nor sleep-- She is there, of whom our souls were fond-- T...
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IT is the music of her native land,-- The airs she used to love in happier days;
The lute is struck by some young gentle hand,
To soothe her spirit with remember'd lays
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EY loved one another
young Edward and his wife,
And in their cottage-home they dwelt, apart from sin and strife
Each evening Edward weary came from a day of honest toil,
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Oh,
Twilight
Spirit that dost render
To dim enchantments; melting heaven with earth,
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EN first thou camest, gentle, shy, and fond,
My eldest-born, first hope, and dearest treasure,
My heart received thee with a joy beyond All that it yet had felt of earthly pleasure;
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OH
if the winds could whisper what they hear,
When murmuring round at sunset through the grove;
If words were written on the streamlet clear,
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IS done--the night has pass'd away;
And, basking in the sunny day,
The laughing fountain's waters bear No record of each burning tear;-- The silent echoes give no sound Of shriek or moan; and nothing round Can tell what breaking hearts h...
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AS a laughing child, and gaily
Where murmuring brooks, and dark blue rivers roll'd,
And shadowy trees outspread their silent arms,
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OH
watch me; watch me still Thro' the long night's dreary hours,
Uphold by thy firm will Worn Nature's sinking powers
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OW are they waned and faded from our hearts,
The old companions of our early days
Of all the many loved, which name
Regret when blamed, or rapture at its praise
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NG
VE has chains of metal rare,
Heavy as gold—yet light as air:
It chanced he caught a heart one day Which struggled hard, as loth to stay
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DO you remember all the sunny places,
Where in bright days, long past, we played together
Do you remember all the old home faces That gathered round the hearth in wintry weather
Do you remember all the happy meetings,
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AS a bright May morn, and each opening flower Lay sunning itself in Flora's bower;
Young Love, who was fluttering round, espied The blossoms so gay in their painted pride;
And he gazed on the point of a feathered dart,
For mischief ...
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VY is my trembling heart, mine own love, my dearest,
Heavy as the hearts whose love is poured in vain;
All the bright day I watch till thou appearest,
All the long night I dream of thee again
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LY I heard a voice—surely my name Was breathed in tones familiar to my heart
I listened—and the low wind stealing came,
In darkness and in silence to depart
Surely I saw a form, a proud bright form,
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HE came to England from the island clime Which lies beyond the far Atlantic wave;
She died in early youth--before her time-- "Peace to her broken heart, and virgin grave
" II
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