Nesbitt Memorial Library Journal, Volume 9, Number 3, September, 1999 Page: 179
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The Writings of Fannie Amelia Dickson Darden
Do these busy workers sip
Only honey, golden honey,
From the deadly flower's lip.
So should we, dear little Sydney,
And our little Willie, too,
Like these busy workers, gather
Treasures all the bright day through;
Each event, though gay or saddening,
Every scene though bright or drear,
To our winged thoughts thus yielding
Precious store of golden cheer.
Thus to-night I preach this lesson,
For 'twas scarce an hour ago
When you made beside the bee hives
Pictures, in the fire-light's glow;
Standing side by side and watching
Uncle Cyrus as with care,
How he smoked the bees, then slowly
Laid their golden treasure bare.
Then the blazing pine torch waving
Lit the bending boughs o'er head
Heavy now with juicy peaches,
Yellow, full, and ripened,
While the grapes in heavy clusters
Black, the Spanish kind, you know,
Hang in arches from the tree tops
Shining in the torch's glow.
Then did Uncle Cyrus proudly
Lift the first bright yellow comb,
While his dark face, full of gladness,
Seemed like brightness sprung from gloom.
"Hold de light, dis honey's richer 'n
All I ever seen before."
Sure no miner e'er more gladly
Gathered in his golden store.
'Tis the harvest time, we gather
Now from orchard, field and hive,
Fruits of toil and faithful labor
By our Father made to thrive.
Thus should you, dear little children,
Do your daily work with care,
Then with joy go forth to gather
What the harvest time will bear.
39. To My Blessed Babe (dated June 6, 1880,
published in Colorado Citizen, June 10, 1880,
with sub-heading: "Inscribed in sympathy to
Mrs. Laura Washburne ")
40. Carrier s Address (published in Colorado
Citizen, January 6, 1881, attributed to Darden
41. Frozen Violets (dated January 17, 1882,
published in Colorado Citizen, January 19,
1882, accompanied by an article reading:
"Mrs. Darden furnishes us with a poetic gem,
which we present our readers this morning,
the first she has written for many months. It is
I see ye all, sweet violets,
Within your icy casket laid,
Smiling, as when in life ye bloomed
In lowly beauty, where the shade
Fell flickering o'er thee,
And now they tell me ye are dead.
But yet beneath thy glassy shroud
Of ice, how bright and fair ye seem!
Robed in thy beauteous tints of blue,
Like Summer skies, of which we dream;
And Heavenward gazing
As watching for the sunlight's gleam.
But yestermorn, with dewy mantle
Draped around each gentle form,
Breathing on the air a blessing,
Little did ye dream of harm;
Here’s what’s next.
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Nesbitt Memorial Library. Nesbitt Memorial Library Journal, Volume 9, Number 3, September, 1999, periodical, September 1999; Columbus, Texas. (texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth151407/m1/51/?q=nesbitt%20memorial%20library%20journal: accessed April 27, 2017), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Nesbitt Memorial Library.