Helen Hunt Jackson



Helen Maria (Fiske) Hunt Jackson (October 18, 1830 – August 12, 1885) was an American writer best known as the author of Ramona, a novel about the ill treatment of Native Americans in southern California.

Quotes

 * When on the ground red apples lie there in piles like jewels shining And redder still on old stone walls Are leaves of woodbines twining
 * from October's Bright Blue Sky
 * And every bird I ever knew Back and forth in the summer flew; And breezes wafted over me The scent of every flower and tree: Till I forgot the pain and gloom And silence of my darkened room
 * from Shadow of Birds
 * All lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love.
 * At last.


 * Like a blind spinner in the sun, I tread my days: I know that all the threads will run Appointed ways. I know each day will bring its task, And being blind no more I ask.
 * Spinning.


 * On the king’s gate the moss grew gray; The king came not. They called him dead And made his eldest son one day Slave in his father’s stead.
 * Coronation.


 * Father, I scarcely dare to pray, So clear I see, now it is done, How I have wasted half my day, And left my work but just begun.
 * A last Prayer.


 * The voice of one who goes before, to make The paths of June more beautiful, is thine Sweet May!
 * May.