Ruth Burgess Burleigh: Abolitionist and Poetic Partner to George

Ruth Burgess Burleigh Basics

b. October 1, 1820, Little Compton, Rhode Island

d. March 11, 1909, Providence, Rhode Island

m. George Burleigh (1821-1903), March 17, 1849, Newport, Rhode Island

lived in Rhode Island and Connecticut

A Come-Outer and poet herself, she was the right person to complement George S. Burleigh's spirit. 

Some of Ruth's poems

Ruth Burleigh (George’s wife) notes HA 1177-1181 - unedited, from George S. Burleigh collection at John Hay Library, Brown University

Poem “Ave Maria” dated Sept 11, 1859 (might be 1851)

Ave Maria.

The valley’s Lily, in thy form we see;

So purely sweet, so delicately fair,

We only know by the soft, odorous air

Thou dwellest in, what heart is hiding there.

Nor hiding long, o’ertopped as thou mayst be,

Sweet One! Though nestling silent in the shade

Of the great tree of Life, whose boughs are swayed

By every wind of Heaven, be not afraid,

Thou needs’t no speech – thy breath [indecipherable] thee

The tiniest cup, when filled with Go’d great love.

Is inexhaustible as deepest wells;

And we may drink from little lily-bells

Or all our thirst, since every drop that sweels

Their honied urn, is powred from ceasless founts Above.

Sept. 11, 1859

                                 Ruth

Handwritten Poem by Ruth Burgess Burleigh, “A free translation of the Sonnet of P. M.”

Where light immoral shows his visits.

The poet’s soul uplifts the age with

This startled age now the poets wrong.

Whom death exalts to heights where all may see

The writhing hydra, once, an angel heard

In form with purity his horde’s evil [?] speeches

So men hear now, by some strange magic reach

A flood of unknown music through his word.

O grief! That hateful (?) finds both sky and earth

If I carve not my thought to Poe’s high worth,

Wherewith to armament his glorious tomb!

Gray block brought for the forage from thy dark cave

Mark those their bound and smile with righteous doom

The villain [indecipherable] that round thee curse and rave.

R.B.B.

Edgar Allan Poe d. in 1849

Ruth Burgess Burleigh, Consolation. Hand-written poem

Consolation.

Be sure that they who had their life from thine

Still hold the cord, invisible and fine

That binds you each to each “beyond the veil.”

The ebb and flow of Life can never fail,

But pulsing, through Eternity, in time,

All loving hearts – or here – or there shall rhyme.

And if, on Earth, at times, our weary feet,

Seem slow and heavy in our haste to meet

Our loved ones, “gone before,” we yet may know,

The goal is sure and bright, to which we go.