Lesson 10 Pictures of Memory

Alice Cary, 1820-1871, was born near Cincinnati. One of her ancestors was among the "Pilgrim Fathers," and the first instructor of Latin at Plymouth, Mass. Miss Cary commenced her literary career at her western home, and, in 1849, published a volume of poems, the joint work of her younger sister, Phoebe, and herself. In 1850, she moved to New York. Two of her sisters joined her there, and they supported themselves by their literary labor. Their home became a noted resort for their literary and artistic friends. Miss Cary was the author of eleven volumes, besides many articles contributed to periodicals. Her poetry is marked with great sweetness and pathos. Some of her prose works are much admired, especially her "Clovernook Children."

Among the beautiful pictures

That hang on Memory's wall,

Is one of a dim old forest,

That seemeth best of all;

Not for its gnarled oaks olden,

Dark with the mistletoe;

Not for the violets golden,

That sprinkle the vale below;

Not for the milk-white lilies,

That lean from the fragrant hedge,

Coquetting all day with the sunbeams,

And stealing their golden edge;

Not for the vines on the upland,

Where the bright red berries rest,

Nor the pinks, nor the pale, sweet cowslip,

It seemeth to me the best.

I once had a little brother,

With eyes that were dark and deep;

In the lap of that dim old forest,

He lieth in peace asleep:

Light as the down of the thistle,

Free as the winds that blow,

We roved there the beautiful summers,

The summers of long ago;

But his feet on the hills grew weary,

And, one of the autumn eves,

I made for my little brother,

A bed of the yellow leaves.

Sweetly his pale arms folded

My neck in a meek embrace,

As the light of immortal beauty

Silently covered his face;

And when the arrows of sunset

Lodged in the tree tops bright,

He fell, in his saintlike beauty,

Asleep by the gates of light.

Therefore, of all the pictures

That hang on Memory's wall,

The one of the dim old forest

Seemeth the best of all.