Ann Eliza Schuyler Bleecker (11 Oct 1752 – 23 Nov 1783 | New York, Colony of New York – Albany NY) poet, short story writer, letter correspondent.
Cast your eyes beyond this meadow, painted by hand Divine, and observe the ample
shadow of that solemn ridge of pine. Curst be the heart that is callous to the feelings
of humanity, which, concentered on itself, regards not wailings of affliction! Was it
for this,with thee, a pleasing load, I sadly wander’d through hostile wood – when I
thought Fortune’s spire could do no more, to see thee perish on a foreign shore?
Yet while wandr’ing through dark blue vaults of heav’n, thy trackless steps pursue
their silent way; now from among starry hosts of ev’n, thou shed’st oe’r slumbering
earth each milder day. Nor shall mollifying hands of time, which wipe off common
sorrows, cancel mine. Tell me thou all pervading mind, when I this life forsake,
must ev’ry tender tie unbind, each sweet connection break? How shall I leave?