Nesbitt Memorial Library Journal, Volume 9, Number 3, September 1999 Page: 175

The Writings of Fannie Amelia Dickson Darden

19. Lines (dated January 16, 1860, published
in unknown newspaper, date unknown)
My life was but a desert drear,
Thou the oasis green and bright,
Towards which my youthful heart did steer,
Blest with the morning light.
My life is still that desert drear,
The morn of life has long departed,
And now beneath the mid-day glare,
I sink, the broken hearted.
My life has been a wild, wild sea,
On which my little barque was tossed,
And through the dim obscurity,
Thou my loved Isle wert lost.
My barque is yet on that lone sea,
The winds are hushed, there is no motion,
No smiling heaven welcomes me,
Becalmed on life's vast ocean.

20. Voices of the Night (dated February 11,
1860, published in unknown newspaper date
unknown)
[omitted]
21. Mary Bell s Answer (dated October 19,
1866, published in unknown newspaper, date
unknown)
I am no elfin sprite or fairy child,
Creation of Poetic Fancy's Thought,
Or creature of Imagination wild-
A thing of mirth, of Superstition wrought.
A far more glorious heritage is mine-
A Soul, creation of the Almighty's breath,
Fitted in Heaven's own beauteous courts to shine,
Redeemed and purchased by the Savior's death.
By Holy hands uplifted, and with prayer
From holy lips, that, pure and undefiled,
I might pass on. They give me there

At Heaven's baptismal font-a christian child.
There is a dreamy light within my eyes-
A prescience of the future. Deep imbued
With that immortal feeling which will rise
O'er earth. With childhood's purest faith endured.
There is a mystic sign-a sacred spell-
Which leads my footsteps in the perfect way-
The Christian's symbol cross. The bosoms swell
Which owns the influence of the Spirit's sway.
22. Thanksgiving (dated November 1867, pub-
lished in unknown newspaper, date unknown)
[omitted]
23. "Hark! through the silent air the tidings
toll!" (dated November 1867, published in
unknown newspaper, date unknown)

[omitted]
24. Books (dated June 2, 1869, published in
Colorado Citizen, date unknown)
My childhood's friends and teachers kind,
How oft I pause to think
Of morn's bright dawn, when first my mind
Did at your fountains drink;
As thirsting buds, with joy, look up,
When dew drops fill each chaliced cup.
And journeying on through life's wide waste
You still have been the true
And constant friends-the very best
Of all I ever knew;
And when I have your counsel sought,
You've always answered to my thought.
Teachers you were, and first I learned,
To love with reverence mixed,
Sir Walter, whose bright fancies burned
Throughout the glowing text,
175