Select Poetry.

Evening Star, Volume VIII, Issue 2251, 25 July 1870, Page 2

Select Poetry.

BEAUTIFUL CHILD.

[by the author of “beautiful skow,”] A few years ago there appeared iu an American paper, published in one of the Western State*, a poem entitled “Beautiful Snow.” The beauty of the composition secure 1 its republication in numerous journals, and at length it found its way to England, accompanied by the tale that the original had been discovered upon the person of a young woman who was frozen t) death in the streets of St. Louis. For a long time tbe writer preserved his incognito, while numcrous claimants sought to appropriate the honor appertaining to its authorship. Some who knew the true history of the poem knew also the cause of its author’s reluctance to give his name to the world. Some months since the secret was revealed, and Majer Sigourney, nephew of the celebrated poetess of that name, became known as the writer. Who could have thought that in a few weeks the gifted poet would fill a suicide’s grave ? yet such is the case. He had in early life married a Miss Filtnore, a lady of great personal attractions, and with her made a voyage to Europe. During their absence rumors unfavorable to her character reached the Sigourney family. The reports seem to have been well founded, for shortly after her return to New York, she showed that the-curse of the 19th century—the demon drink—had added another name to the list of his victims. She abandoned her husband, became an outcast, and one morning she was found dead in the snow; and he told the story of his erring wife in the touching language of “ Beautiful Snow.” The April number of Harper's Magazine, contains a poem which is the latest effort of his genius. It was addressed to his only child, and is a touching companion to the poem which has been so much admired.

Beautiful child by thy mother’s knee, mystic future what wilt thou be ? A demon of sin, or angel sublime— A poison Upas, or innocent thyme— A spirit of evil flashing down With the lurid light of a fiery crown— Or gliding up with a shining track, Like the morning star that ne’er looks back. Daintiest dreamer that ever smiled, Which wilt thou be, my beautiful child ? Beautiful child in my garden bowers, Friend of the butterflies, birds, and flowers ! Pure as the sparkling crystalline stream, Jewels of truth iu thy fairy eyes beam :. Was there ever a whiter soul than thine, Worshipped by love in a mortal shrine ? My heart thou hast gladdened for two sweet years With rainbows of hope through mists of tears — Mists beyond which thy sunny smile, With its halo of glory beams all the while. Beautiful child, to thy look is given A gleam serene—not of earth, but of heaven ; With thy tell-tale eyes and prattling tongue, Would thou could’st ever thus be young. Like the liquid strain of the mocking-bird, From stair to hall thy voice is heard : How oft in the garden nooks thou’rt found, With flowers thy curly head around, And kneeling beside me with figure so quaint, Oh ! who would not dote on my infant saint ! Beautiful child, what thy fate shall be, Perchance is wisely hidden from mo ; A fallen star thou may’st leave my side, And of sorrow and shame become the bride— Shivering, quivering, through the cold street, With a curse behind and before thy feet, Ashamed to live, and afraid to die ; No home, no friend, and a pitiless sky. Merciful Father—my brain grows wild— Oh ! keep from evil my beautiful child ! Beautiful child, may’st thou soar above, A warbling cherub of joy and love; A drop on eternity’s mighty sea, A blossom of life’s immortal tree— Floating, flowing evermore, In the blessed light of the golden shore. And as 1 gaze on thy sinless bloom And thy radiant face, they dispel my gloom; I feel He will keep thee undefiled, , And His love protect my beautiful ciiidi