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Lucy Larcom

I lived from 1824-1893. I was from the United States, and am in the Americas category.

Larcom, Lucy, poet, born in Beverly, Massachusetts, in 1826. As a child of seven years she wrote stories and poems for her own amusement. When she was ten years old her father died, and her mother established a factory boarding-house at Lowell, where, after spending two or three years in school, Lucy entered the mills. While working as a cotton-operative she contributed largely to the "Lowell Offering," writing for the first volumes a series of parables that attracted attention. John G. Whittier, then conctucting a Free-soil paper in Lowell, encouraged her literary efforts. When about twenty years of age she went to Illinois with a married sister, taught there for some time, and was for three years a pupil in Monticello female seminary. On her return to Massachusetts she was employed for six years in a seminary at Norton, but desisted on the failure of her health, only taking classes occasionally in Boston schools. During the civil war she wrote many patriotic poems. When " Our Young Fo

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  • No! is my answer from this cold bleak ridge
    Down to your valley: you may rest you there:
    68 lines
  • 'T IS Easter eve; the day is fading;
    O Thou, with whom there is no death,
    36 lines
  • HAND in hand with angels,
    Through the world we go;
    71 lines
  • ONLY silently resigned
    To the counsels of Thy mind;
    25 lines
  • FOR the wealth of pathless forests,
    Whereon no axe may fall;
    65 lines
  • As strangers, glad for this good in,
    Where nobler wayfarers have been;
    34 lines
  • STILL must I climb, if I would rest:
    The bird soars upward to his nest;
    29 lines
  • OH, the beauty and the joy of living
    As the children of our Father, God!
    44 lines
  • They said of her, "She never can have felt
    The sorrows that our deeper natures feel":
    14 lines
  • OPEN your heart as a flower to the light!
    Darkness is passing; the Sun is in sight;
    16 lines

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