Sarah Helen Whitman (19 Jan 1803 – 27 Jun 1878 | Providence RI – Providence RI) poet, author, essayist, Spiritualist, literary figure, transcendentalist.

In April’s dim and showery nights when music melts along the air, when all slept nor

wooed the morning’s beam, when little darlings return to my desolate room! In the soft

gloom of Summer’s balmy eve, me thought this dim, old world had passed away, with all

its load of agony and crime, with its thick darkness which broodeth o’er the world. And

yet, a day of golden beauty! Though through the night hoar-frost gathered, weaving its

filmy network. I dread to see the summer sun come glowing up the sky, and early

pansies opening their violet eyes. Though every line of that sweet, thoughtful face seems

touched by sorrow to a softer grace, thine is the hope that knows no fear, like a bright

drop of morning dew lies glittering on the rosy dark, then melts & mingles with the blue.

Thy beauty comes to me o’er the wave: a star above jasper sea, hope beyond the grave.

Whitman, Sarah Helen. Hours of Life, & Other Poems. Providence: George H. Whitney, 1853. https://archive.org/details/hourslifeandoth01whitgoog/page/n6/mode/1up