Poems by Mary T. Lathrap

We were wont to dread November
With its garments gray and somber,
Trailing over summer pathway...

Marshall, April 29, 1859 I see him now,
A half-veiled look of heaven upon his face,
That h...

Far, far away, where the sun goes down,
And the beetling crags of the mountains frown,
Wher...

The summer blooms are fading
Upon the lawn and lea,
And I'm thinking as I'm gazing,
Have the...

I will not say, "Weep not for him, "
For tears are holy now,
But weep them with a deep-hushed...

Stop! On thy lip let that dark slander die,
And die there all unspoken;
Let that half-uttered...

In memory of John B. Finch who dropped dead at the Boston depot after having lectured at Lynn. H...

To the memory of Charles D. McNaughten. He has solved it--life's wonderful problem--
The deepes...

What is life? Is it an hour
Of vain and idle dreaming?
Is this world a solemn real,
Or a tran...

Spring Arbor, July, 1860. O! Beautiful spot where the hill and the vale
Are blooming with mul...

Detroit, May 12, 1864. Long time our country for her shadowed glory,
Amid the murky, muffli...

We can leave the dead in the hands of God,
But the living that are untrue--
How the heart will...

Detroit, Sept. 19, 1862. Below us the evergreen valleys are lying,
Around us all beauty is g...

The storm king's car sweeps o'er the skies,
But I heed not the blast,
I'm wandering through t...

From yonder tower the solemn bell has tolled
Another requiem to departing time;
Along the char...