Be inspired by this collection of poems by Alice Cary. Alice Cary was born in Ohio on April 26, 1820. She came from a large family - nine children. Coming from such a large family, living on a farm that was miles from schools and towns Alice's education
was not a formal one. But she loved reading and she and her sister, Phoebe read and studied all they could.
When Alice was 17 she wrote verses that we published in newspapers. Both her and her younger sister, Phoebe Cary, wrote many uplifting poems. She died at the age of 51, in 1871, from tuberculosis. But her poetry and verses live on today!
Popular Alice Cary Short Poems:
Poet: Alice Cary
Still alway groweth in me the great wonder,
When all the fields are blushing like the dawn,
And only one poor little flower ploughed under,
That I can see no flowers, that one being gone:
No flower of all, because of one being gone.
Aye, ever in me groweth the great wonder,
When all the hills are shining, white and red,
And only one poor little flower ploughed under.
That it were all as one if all were dead:
Aye, all as one if all the flowers were dead.
I cannot feel the beauty of the roses;
Their soft leaves seem to me but layers of dust;
Out of my opening hand each blessing closes:
Nothing is left me but my hope and trust,
Nothing but heavenly hope and heavenly trust.
I get no sweetness of the sweetest places;
My house, my friends no longer comfort me;
Strange somehow grow the old familiar faces;
For I can nothing have, not having thee;
All my possessions I possessed through thee.
Having, I have them not - strange contradiction!
Heaven needs must cast its shadow on our earth;
Yea, drown us in the waters of affliction
Breast high, to make us know our treasure's worth,
To make us know how much our love is worth.
And while I mourn, the anguish of my story
Breaks, as the wave breaks on the hindering bar:
Thou art but hidden in the deeps of glory,
Even as the sunshine hides the lessening star,
And with true love I love thee from afar,
I know our Father must be good, not evil,
And murmur not, for faith's sake, at my ill;
Nor at the mystery of the working cavil,
That somehow bindeth all things in his will.
And, though He slay me, makes me trust Him still.
My little birds, with backs as brown
As sand, and throats as white as frost,
I've searched the summer up and down.
And think the other birds have lost
The tunes you sang, so sweet, so low.
About the old house, long ago.
My little flowers, that with your bloom
So hid the grass you grew upon,
A child's foot scarce had any room
Between you, — are you dead and gone?
I've searched through fields and gardens rare
Nor found your likeness anywhere.
My little hearts, that beat so high
With love to God, and trust in men,
O, come to me, and say if I
But dream, or was I dreaming then,
What time we sat within the glow
Of the old house hearth, long ago?
My little hearts, so fond, so true,
I searched the world all far and wide,
And never found the like of you:
God grant we meet the other side
The darkness 'twixt us now that stands,
In that new house not made with hands!
All the air is white with snowing,
Cold and white — cold and white;
Wide and wild the winds are blowing.
Blowing, blowing wide and wild.
Sweet little child, sweet little child,
Sleep, sleep, sleep little child:
Earth is dark, but heaven is bright -
Sleep, sleep till the morning light:
Some must watch, and some must weep,
And some, little baby, some may sleep:
So, good-night, sleep till light;
Lullaby, lullaby, and good-night!
Folded hands on the baby bosom.
Cheek and mouth rose-red, rose-sweet;
And like a bee's wing in a blossom.
Beat, beat, beat and beat,
So the heart keeps going, going.
While the winds in the bitter snowing
Meet and cross - cross and meet -
Heaping high, with many an eddy,
Bars of stainless chalcedony
All in curves about the door.
Where shall fall no more, no more,
Longed-for steps, so light, so light.
Little one, sleep till the moon is low.
Sleep, and rock, and take your rest;
Winter clouds will snow and snow.
And the winds blow east, and the winds blow west;
Some must come, and some must go.
And the earth be dark, and the heavens be bright!
Never fear, baby dear,
Wrong things lose themselves in right;
Never fear, mother is here,
Lullaby, lullaby, and good-night.