Sarah Orne Jewett
Sarah Orne Jewett (September 3, 1849 – June 24, 1909) was an American novelist and short story writer, best known for her local color works set in or near South Berwick, Maine, on the border of New Hampshire, which in her day was a declining New England seaport.
Jewett's family had been residents of New England for many generations. Her father was a doctor, and Jewett often accompanied ... more »
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Sarah Orne Jewett Poems
A Wild Rose
A blushing wild pink rose, By tangled woods and ways, A passing sweet that goes With summer days.
A Country Boy in Winter
The wind may blow the snow about, For all I care, says Jack, And I don’t mind how cold it grows, For then the ice won’t crack.
A Caged Bird
High at the window in her cage, The old canary sits and sings, Nor sees across the curtain pass The shadow of a swallow's wings.
A Farmer's Sorrow
The clouds look low and heavy, as if there would be rain, It always means bad weather when you hear the brook so plain.
A Child's Grave
More than a hundred years ago They raised for her this little stone; 'Miss Polly Townsend, aged nine,' It says, is sleeping here alone
Down in a field, one day in June, The flowers all bloomed together,
A Four-leaved Clover
Dear Polly, these are joyful days! Your feet can choose their own sweet ways; You have no care of anything. Free as a swallow on the wing,
On Star Island
High on the lichened ledges, like A lonely sea-fowl on its perch, Blown by the cold sea winds, it stands,
To-day upon thy ruined walls The flowers wave flags of truce, For time has proved thy conqueror, And tamed thy strength, Dunluce!
Oh, rest your oars and let me drift While all the stars come out to see! The birds are talking in their sleep As we go by so silently.
A Night in June
The starlight from one clear, bright star, The moonlight, faint and white From the little moon, low in the sky,
I heard the city bells at morning ring, The eastern sky was faintly tinged with light; The tired town in heavy sleep lay still,
Where out beyond the eastern hills Was faintest light, there, scorning Shadows which warned us back, we turned
In a Christmas Letter
We are so close together Though you are far away, God bless my darling and keep her safe, I whisper when I pray;
Quotationsmore quotations »
''Wrecked on the lee shore of age.''Sarah Orne Jewett (1849-1909), U.S. author. The Country of the Pointed Firs and Other Stories, ch. 7 (1896).
''Tact is after all a kind of mind reading.''Sarah Orne Jewett (1849-1909), U.S. author. The Country of the Pointed Firs and Other Stories, ch. 10 (1896).
''The thing that teases the mind over and over for years, and at last gets itself put down rightly on paperwhether little or great, it belongs to Literature.''Sarah Orne Jewett (1849-1909), U.S. author. Letter to author Willa Cather. The Country of the Pointed Firs and Other Stories, preface (1896).
Comments about Sarah Orne Jewett
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(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
A Wild Rose
A blushing wild pink rose,
By tangled woods and ways,
A passing sweet that goes
With summer days.
From rosy dawn till night
Wafted from east to west,
Kissed by the morning light
To evening rest.
Thy odors faint outlive
Alike both joy and pain,
Stealing the sweet they give
To yield again.
Leaving a faint perfume
Thy memory to fulfill,
Forgotten in thy bloom,