Helen Hunt Jackson
Helen Hunt Jackson
Helen Maria Hunt Jackson, born Helen Fiske, was an American poet and writer who became an activist on behalf of improved treatment of Native Americans by the U.S. government. She described the adverse effects of government actions in her history A Century of Dishonor. Her novel Ramonadramatized the federal government's mistreatment of Native Americans in Southern California after the Mexican–American War and attracted considerable attention to her cause. Commercially popular, it was estimated to have been reprinted 300 times and...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth18 October 1831
CountryUnited States of America
But great loves, to the last, have pulses red; All great loves that have ever died dropped dead.
When Time is spent, Eternity begins.
When love is at its best, one loves So much that he cannot forget.
Motherhood is priced Of God, at price no man may dare To lessen or misunderstand.
The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.
On the king's gate the moss grew gray;The king came not. They called him deadAnd made his eldest son one daySlave in his father's stead.
That indescribable expression peculiar to people who hope they have not been asleep, but know they have.
O month when they who love must love and wed.
Now and then one sees a face which has kept its smile pure and undefiled. Such a smile transfigures; such a smile, if the artful but know it, is the greatest weapon a face can have.
Who waits until the wind shall silent keep Will never find the ready hour to sow.
Next time!' In what calendar are kept the records of those next times which never come?
Nothing can be so bad as to be displeased with one's self ...
Like a blind spinner in the sun,I tread my days:I know that all the threads will runAppointed ways.I know each day will bring its task,And being blind no more I ask.
Gazing around, looking up at the lofty pinnacles above, which seemed to pierce the sky, looking down upon the world,-\-\it seemed the whole world, so limitless it stretched away at her feet,-\-\feeling that infinite unspeakable sense of nearness to Heaven, remoteness from earth which comes only on mountain heights, she drew in a long breath of delight, and cried: "At last! at last, Alessandro! Here we are safe! This is freedom! This is joy!