Saint Paul weekly Minnesotian. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1858-1859, 1859-03-05
A BEAUTIFUL POEM.

The following Poem, about one year ago was ex-
tensively copied by the newspaper press, and now
it is ag ain receiving wide circulation Our read
ers will be pleased to read it second time with
the following reference to its author by the Spring
field (Mass) Republican, to which paper it was orr
ginaly. contributed:
"OyHR THE RIVER" AND ITS AUfHoR-The pub
lie admiration of the beautiful lines cover the
River" first published in the Republican, in Au-
gust, 1857, and the inquiry to their origin, have
not yet ceased. We meet the little poem and the
query as to where it came from, among our ex-
changes almost daily; but not only till now have
felt at liberty to unveil the anOnymousness
which it has heretofore borne. "Lizze Lincoln"
which signature the poem was first cOntribu-
ted, is young lady of Hinsdale n. H., whose real
name is Nancie A. W. Priest. That she has real
genius her writings sufficiently evidence; but its
Character and the public appreciation of it are in
creased by the facts that her education has been
only that of District School" and that for three
''the mill, from daylight till dark. She is now
at 22 years of age, struggling against the adventi
tous circumstances of her position, to fit herselg
for a teacher The thousands who have been touch
ed by the high poetic expression, as well as the
marked sweetness and strength of her productions
will sympathize with her yearnings and efforts and
watch the promising career with hope and interest.
The mind, capable of producing cover the River"
under such circumstances is not and should not be
content with single victory.
OVER THE RIVER
Over the river they beckon to me,
Loved ones who We crossed to the other side,
The geam of their snowy robes see,
But their voices are lost in the dashing tide.
There's one with ringlets of sunny gold,
And eyes the reflection of heavens own blue;
He crossed in the twilight gray and cold,
And the pale mist hid him from mortal view;
We saw not the angels who met him there,
The gates of the city could not see
Over the river, over the river,
Ny brother stands waiting to welcome me.
Over the river the boatman pale
Carrying another, the household pet:
Her brown curls waving in the gentle gale,
Darling Minnie! l see her vet.
She crossed on her bosom her dmpled hands,
And fearlessly entered the phantom bark
We felt ii glide from its silver sands,
And all our sunshine grew strangely dark;
We know she is safe on the further side,
Where all the ransomed and angels be;
Over the river, the mystic river,
My childhood's idol is waiting for me.
For none return from those quiet shores,
Who crossed with the boatman cold and pale;
We hear the dip of the golden oars,
And catch gleam of the snowy sail;
And 10 they have passed from yearning hearts,
They cross the stream and are gone for aye.
We may not sunder the veil apart
That hides from our vision the gates of day,
We only know that their barks no more
May sail with us over lifes stormy sea;
Yet somewhere know on the unseen shore,
They watch, and beckon, and wait for me. o.
And sit and think when the sunsets gold
Is flushing river and hill and shore,
! shall one day stand by the water cold,
And list for the sound of the boatmaL's 8 oar;
Ishall watch for gleam of the Tapping sail
shall hear the boat it nears the strand,
l shall pass from sight with the boatman pale,
To the better shore of the spirit land.
shall know the loved who have gone before,
And joyfully sweet will the meeting be,
When over the river, the peaceful river, -.. .
The Angel of Death shall carry me .i-fE