When the baby dies, On every side Rose stranger's voices, hard and harsh and loud. The baby was not wrapped in any shroud. The mother made no sound. Her head was bowed That men's eyes might not see Her misery.
Helen Hunt Jackson

When love is at its best, one loves so much that he cannot forget.
Helen Hunt Jackson

O month when they who love must love and wed.
Helen Hunt Jackson

Love has a tide!
Helen Hunt Jackson

But all lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love; The years of Heaven with all earth's little pain Make Good Together there we can begin again, In babyhood.
Helen Hunt Jackson

The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down.
Helen Hunt Jackson

There cannot be found in the animal kingdom a bat, or any other creature, so blind in its own range of circumstance and connection, as the greater majority of human beings are in the bosoms of their families.
Helen Hunt Jackson