“To these fair pages every friend

A tributary verse shall lend

Which sweet remembrances of love,

Affection and esteem shall prove;

With tremulous hand the hoary sage,

With wisdom’s rules shall fill a page

While youthful ardor shall aspire

With tales of love to sound the lyre

But none will here insert a line,

Whose friendship can compare with mine.

New London

April 18, 1830                    MMC

“Life is but a little while,

Half a tear and half a smile”

[two cuts in the page for a sprig to be inserted]

[to the side:] April 10, 1872 [4^th anniversary of husband’s death]

Pro. 14:10  [in modern translation: Only the person involved can know his own bitterness or joy—no one else can really share it]

Plucked from the grave, August 1^st, 1871

 [botanical sample missing]

I saw two clouds at morning

Tinged with the rising sun

And in the dawn they floated on

And mingled into one

I saw two summer currents

Flow sweetly to their meeting

And join the course with silent force

In peace each other greeting

Such be your gentle motion

Till life’s last pulse shall beat

Like summer’s beam and summers stream

Float on in joy to meet

A calmer sea, where storms shall cease

A purer sky where all is peace.

                                    M.

What can love be liken’d to?

To the glittering, fleeting dew.

To heaven’s bright but fading bow.

To the white but melting snow

To fleeting sounds and viewless air

To all that’s sweet and false and fair?

Whereto can we liken hope?

To the arch of heavens wide cope

Where birds sing sweetly, but are flying

Where days shine brightly, but are dying

So near, that we behold it ever

So far, that we shall reach it never.

                                     M.

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