Sunday, February 27, 2011

1862 Mar. 31 Letter to Sarah Blain (3705) from Samuel Hess

Letter in ink on paper, written on one side of a previously used sheet. The letter is to Sarah Blain (3705) and is dated March 31, 1862. It is unsigned, but I believe it to be from Samuel Hess.

Sarah (3705), this is a paper I found on which your aunt (3563) has written a song called the Indian Hunter, which as you will see on the other side is intended for your mother (3565) from her own hand. And I will try to write you one on this side called Faded Flowers.

Faded Flowers

The flowers I saw in the wild wood
Have since dropped their beautiful leaves,
And the many dear friends of my childhood
Have slumbered for years in the grave.
But the bloom of the flowers I remember,
Though their smiles I shall never more see,
For the cold chilly winds of December
Took my flowers, my companions, from me.
The roses may bloom on the morrow,
And many dear friends I have won,
But my heart can part but with sorrow
When I think of the ones that are gone.
‘Tis no wonder that I’m broken hearted,
And stricken with sorrow should be
For we have met, we have loved, we have parted,
My flowers, my companions, and me.
Now dark looks this world and how dreary,
When we part from the ones that we love,
But there’s rest for the faint and the weary,
And friends meet with lost ones above.
But in heaven I can but remember,
When from earth my proud soul shall be free,
That no chilly winds of December,
Shall steal my companions from me.

March 31st 1862

The Indian Hunter

Let me go to my home in the far distant west
To the scenes of my childhood that I love the best
Where the tall cedars flourish and bright waters flow
Where my parents will greet me, white man let me go.

Let me go to the hills and the valleys so fair
Where I first breathed life in my own mountain air
Where through the rough forest with quiver and bow
I have followed the wild deer. Oh! There let me go.

Let me go to the land where the cataract plays
Where oft I have sported in earlier days
Where dwells my poor mother, whose heart will oreflow
At the sight of her lost one. Oh! There let me go.

Let me go to my father, by whose valient side
I have sported so oft in the height of my pride
And exulted to conquer the insolent foe
To my father the Chieftain. Oh! there let me go.

And Oh! let me go to my dear dark-eyed maid
Who first taught me to love neath the willows cool shade
Who bounds like a fawn, and is pure as the snow,
And who loves her dear Indian, To her let me go.

Oh! Then let me go to my fair forest home
And never again will I venture to roam
There there let my body in ashes lie low
To the land of my father. White man let me go

For my Sister Hannah (3565) Sarah Hess (3563)

Repeat the last line of each verse when sung

No comments:

Post a Comment