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"The summer day was spoiled with fitful storm; At night the wind died and the soft rain dropped; With lulling murmur, and the air was warm, And all the tumult and the trouble stopped."
Celia ThaxterAcross the narrow beach we flit, — Celia Thaxter
"Across the narrow beach we flit, One little sand-piper and I; And fast I gather, bit by bit. The scattered driftwood, bleached and dry."
Celia Thaxter
Celia Thaxter
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Celia Thaxter was an American writer of poetry and stories. For most of her life, she lived with her father on the Isles of Shoals at his Appledore Hotel. How she grew up to become a writer is detailed in her early autobiography, and her book entitled Among the Isles of Shoals. Thaxter became one of America's favorite authors in the late 19th century. Among her best-known poems are "The Burgomaste
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"What though our eyes with tears be wet? The sunrise never failed us yet.The blush of dawn may yet restore Our light and hope and joy once more. Sad soul, take comfort, nor forget That sunrise never failed us yet!"
Celia ThaxterQuote
"Already the dandelions Are changed into vanishing ghosts."
Celia ThaxterQuote
"O brief, bright smile of summer! O days divine and dear The voices of winters sorrow Already we can hear.And we know that the frosts will find us, And the smiling skies grow rude, While we look in the face of Beauty, And worship her every mood."
Celia ThaxterQuote
"The heart of God through his creation stirs, We thrill to feel it, trembling as the flowers That die to live again, — his messengers, To keep faith firm in these sad souls of ours.The waves of Time may devastate our lives, The frosts of age may check our failing breath, They shall not touch the spirit that survives Triumphant over doubt and pain and death."
Celia ThaxterQuote
"Thou great Creator! Pardon us who reach For other heaven beyond this world of thine, This matchless world, where thy least touch doth teach Thy solemn lessons clearly, line on line. And help us to be grateful, we who live Such sordid, fretful lives of discontent, Nor see the sunshine nor the flower, nor strive To find the love thy bitter chastening meant."
Celia Thaxter