The religion of our fathers overhung us children like the shadow of a mighty tree against the trunk of which we rested,… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
If an apple blossom or a ripe apple could tell its own story, it would be, still more than its own, the… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
To different minds, poetry may present different phases. To me, the reverent faith of the people I lived among, and their faithful… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
To her bier Comes the year Not with weeping and distress, as mortals do, But, to guide her way to it, All… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
Canst thou prophesy, thou little tree, What the glory of thy boughs shall be? — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
Many kinds of fruit grow upon the tree of life, but none so sweet as friendship; as with the orange tree its… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
O Mariner-soul, Thy quest is but begun, There are new worlds Forever to be won. — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
A tattered copy of Johnson's large Dictionary was a great delight to me, on account of the specimens of English versifications which I found… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
We were not meant to mask ourselves before our fellow-beings, but to be, through our human forms, true and clear utterances of the spirit… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
The peach-bud glows, the wild bee hums, and wind-flowers wave in graceful gladness. — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
I never thought that the possession of money would make me feel rich: it often does seem to have an opposite effect. But then,… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
Whether rich or poor, a home is not a home unless the roots of love are ever striking deeper through the crust of the… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
The New Hampshire girls who came to Lowell were descendants of the sturdy backwoodsmen who settled that State scarcely a hundred years before.... They… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
The religion of our fathers overhung us children like the shadow of a mighty tree against the trunk of which we rested, while we… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
These blossoms, gathered in familiar paths, With dear companions now passed out of sight, Shall not be laid upon their graves. They live, Since… — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
The curse of covetousness is that it destroys manhood by substituting money for character. — Lucy Larcom Copy Share Image
