Autograph Book Poems
Source: Album Verses, J. S. Ogilvie (editor), 1884.
Section: Autograph book dedication verses. Suitable for inscription on title pages
of albums, autograph books.
|Within this book ne'er may there steal,
A thought to make a fair one feel
A single pang of heartfelt grief,
Or slightest sorrow, e'er so brief;
But let each line the muse inspires
Be filled with ardent, pure desires,
That every good on thee may rest,
And every blessing be possessed,
Whate'er we ask for those we love,
From earth below or heaven above.
May ne'er the sigh of anguish blast
One bright memorial of the past;
Or wavering doubt, or anxious fear,
Be caused by aught recorded here.
Let warm affection, pure and bright,
Cast o'er each page its hallowed light.
Thus may this album ever be
From vice, and pride, and passion free;
From every grosser taint refined,
An emblem of the stainless mind;
And though thy friends afar may be -
Beyond the wide, wide rolling sea -
O, think not they will e'er forget
The fair one whom they here have met.
As you have conferred on me the
favor of dedicating your album, I feel
myself under renewed obligation to
present you a memento of respect and
May you find many true friends who
will interest themselves in your behalf
and leave an expression of their attach-
ment to you in this book - a token that
shall endure when widely separated by
time and space.
Go, leafy compendium, and gather
sweets from every flowery pen; plume
thy wings with richest gems, nor permit
thy pages to become contaminated by
This is the earnest prayer of your
Go forth, thou little volume
I leave thee to thy fate;
To love and friendship truly
Thy leaves I dedicate.
Go, little book, thy destined course pursue,
Collect memorials of the just and true,
And beg of every friend so near
Some token of remembrance dear.
When years elapse,
It may, perhaps,
Delight us to review these scraps,
And live again 'mid scenes so gay,
That time's rough hand has swept away;
For when the eye, bedimmed with age,
Shall rest upon each treasured page,
Those pleasant hours
That once were ours
Shall come again, like autumn flowers,
To bloom and smile upon us here
When all things else seem sad and drear;
'T will tune our hearts and make them sing,
And turn our autumn into spring!
As life flows on from day to day,
And this, your book, soon fills,
How many may be far away
From treasured vales and hills?
But there is joy in future time
To turn the pages o'er,
And see within a name or rhyme
From one you'll see no more.
Go forth, thou little volume,
Like Noah's faithful dove,
And bring to darling -
An olive leaf of love.
My album's open! Come and see!
What! Won't you waste a line on me?
Write but a thought, a word or two,
That memory may revert to you.
Go, album! range the gay parterre;
From gem to gem, from flower to flower.
Select with taste and cull with care,
And bring your offering, fresh and rare,
To this sweet maiden's bower!
|To My Friends:
My album is a garden spot
Where all my friends may sow,
Where thorns and thistles flourish not,
But flowers alone may grow.
With smiles for sunshine, tears for showers,
I'll water, watch and guard these flowers.
Life is a volume,
From youth to old age,
Each year forms a chapter,
Each day is a page.
May none be more charming,
More womanly (manly) true,
Than that, pure and noble,
Sketched yearly by you.
Many kind wishes will be written here,
And none more sincere than mine.
Words are lighter than the cloud-foam
Of the restless ocean's spray;
Vainer than the trembling shadows
That the next hour steals away.
By the fall of summer raindrops
Is the air as deeply stirred,
And the roseleaf that we tread on
Will outlive a word.
We may write our names in albums,
We may trace them in the sand,
We may chisel them in marble,
With a firm and skillful hand;
But the pages soon are sullied,
Soon each name will fade away;
Every monument will crumble,
Like all earthly hopes, decay.
But, dear friend, there is an album,
Full of leaves of snowy white,
Where no name is ever tarnished,
But forever pure and bright.
In that Book of Life, God's Album,
May your name be penned with care;
And may all who do here write,
Have their names forever there.
Go little volume, like the bee,
The fertile fields of mind explore,
Cull from each mental shrub and tree
Some grateful sweets to swell thy store.
Go, and in friendship's hallowed name,
Where'ere thy wanderings may be,
A tribute fond from feeling claim,
A few brief lines for Memory.
Go, little book. Bring the best
wishes of happiness to the fair owner
of this memorial of friendship; and
gather the brightest gems of Virtue,
Esteem and Love from the fairy fields
of a bright future.
Fly, little volume, to the mount where
Hope's bright star ever glitters above
the horizon and colors those flowers of
friendship that fade not; but, ever
filled with the dews of affection scatters
its sweet influence around the pathway
of our dear friend when the lowering
clouds and storms of affliction hover
o'er her dwelling to make her disconsolate,
and her home a place of sorrow. Then
wilt thou, as a soul cheering spirit,
console the fair owner of this Album,
who will greet thee with smiles,
ans shake thy dewy plumes of esteem,
and spread before her those many
gems that thou hast gathered from the
fields of Adiuex. May she not feel
deserted and alone; but, surrounded by
many friends that will ever wish her
happiness and a pathway flower strewn.
Cast on the World.
On friendship's realm thou art
Spotless, till now unsullied yet in part.
Go, little book, and on each page receive
The various offerings which true friends may give.
Ask not the crowd, but seek refinement's pen,
Wielded by virtue, that unerring gem.
Of parting friends some kind memorial keep,
Of those who part, perhaps no more to meet.
Poetry by Occassion