February

The February, a form Pale-vestured, wildly fair – One of the North Wind’s daughters, With icicles in her hair.

Excerpt from “The Masque of Months” by Edgar Fawcett

Blessed be Thou for all the joy My soul has felt today! O let its memory stay with me And never pass away!

I was alone, for those I loved Were far away from me, The sun shone on the withered grass, The wind blew fresh and free.

Was it the smile of early spring That made my bosom glow? 'Twas sweet, but neither sun nor wind Could raise my spirit so.

Was it some feeling of delight, All vague and undefined? No, 'twas a rapture deep and strong, Expanding in the mind!

Was it a sanguine view of life And all its transient bliss– A hope of bright prosperity? O no, it was not this!

It was a glimpse of truth divine Unto my spirit given Illumined by a ray of light That shone direct from heaven!

I felt there was a God on high By whom all things were made. I saw His wisdom and his power In all his works displayed.

But most throughout the moral world I saw his glory shine; I saw His wisdom infinite, His mercy all divine.

Deep secrets of his providence In darkness long concealed Unto the vision of my soul Were graciously revealed.

But while I wondered and adored His wisdom so divine, I did not tremble at his power, I felt that God was mine.

I knew that my Redeemer lived, I did not fear to die; Full sure that I should rise again To immortality.

I longed to view that bliss divine Which eye hath never seen, Like Moses, I would see His face Without the veil between.

"In Memory of a Happy Day in February" by Anne Brontë

Brontë began writing the above poem in February 1842 and finished it on November 10 of that same year. The poem begins in a cheerful tone that was uncharacteristic of Brontë’s writing. The first part was finished in February, but the second half (shown above in italics) was not completed until nine months later, under somber circumstances. Brontë had just attended the funeral of her Aunt Branwell, who had been like a mother to her. She had also recently lost her love interest, William Weightman, who had died of cholera a few months before her aunt’s death. Scholars feel this could account for the more religious slant of the second half, as Brontë reflected on her recent losses and the comfort of knowing she would see her loved ones again one day. The poem was first published in 1850.1

1. Chitham, “The Poems of Anne Brontë,” p.82 & p.174.

My Redeemer Lives written by Samuel Medley in 1775. Performed by The Mormon Tabernacle Choir at the April 2015 General Conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Alisa Williams is Spirituality Editor at SpectrumMagazine.org.

Photo Credit: Anneka Tran / FreeImages.com

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This is a companion discussion topic for the original entry at http://spectrummagazine.org/node/7311
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Thank you for these inspiring posts. They are of true value to the soul. If these posts generated lively discussions and much comment we would all be in a good spiritual place. Rene G.

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i just love this fine effort by the mormon tabernacle choir…their pitch and diction are so perfect - i can totally imagine what a joy it would be to sing with them, and i’m not even a singer…