Martha Ellen Hundley (1851)

---

I lost my little darling,

My beauteous, fairy child

So like some Heaven-born angel,

So gentle and so mild,

She was a tiny rose-bud,

A fair, though fragile flower

That could not stand the winter's blast,

But perished from a shower.

Her eyes, dark blue like summer skies

Her silky locks like jet*

My darling, little daughter!

I think I see her yet.

And her dear, baby brother,

Oh! how he sobbed and cried,

And clung around his mother,

That night his sister died.

They laid her in the garden,

There, beneath the quiet sod,

Her body now reposes

But her soul is with her God.

Oh, gently bloom sweet flowers,

About her lowly bed,

And warble, warble, little birds,

Above her sleeping head.

And I will hush the throbbings

Of this sorrowing heart the while

And think I see mine angel,

In all the stars that smile;

And dream of her at even

When sunset gilds the West,

And hope to meet in Heaven

My baby with the blest.

Richard T. and Ellen D. Hundley's second child, Martha Ellen Hundley, was born in Virginia.  She only lived 5 days in January 1851.  Vivian Grey Hundley was Martha's big brother.

Picture:   
https://cdn.pixabay.com/photo/2013/07/18/15/07/baby-164583__340.jpg 

Sweet notes of music float by on the breeze,

      And the mild air of evening waves gently the trees;

Oh! dear is the hour of sunset to me,

      For sweet thoughts come o'er me then - sweet thoughts of thee.

Now sunset is gleaming o'er the valley and hill,

      And dying with purple yon bright sparkling rill;*

See! the white pebbles glisten 'neath his last lingering ray,

      That in the deep twilight fades gently away.

The birds hush their vespers,* the flowers close their eyes,

      And all o'er the green earth a deep shadow lies;

Now, memory comes back, on the wings of the night,

      Revealing, in beauty, fond visions of light.

I see thee!  I see thee!  beneath the bright moon,

      Thy beauty unfaded that faded too soon;

Thine eyes, diamond brightness, thy cheeks, ruddy glow,

      Thy dark curling tresses and forehead of snow.

Oh! bright was thy beauty, and buoyant thy heart,

      I thought not the rose-bud could ever depart,

From the beauteous glow of thy cheeks carmine* hue,

      That shone like fresh roses when covered with dew.

But I think now, Oh! SADLY, of that dark gloomy day,

      When the angel of death bore my bright flower away,

To bloom forth more lovely in that pure sunny clime,

      Where youth treads not the footsteps of ravaging time.

And still brighter and fairer thou'lt bloom in that land,

      By the pure breeze of heaven eternally fanned,

While the accents of praises, unchecked by control,

      From thy lips, so angelic forever shall roll.

As the bright sunset fades in deep darkness away,

      To gloriously rise on another sparkling day,

Thou too, shalt burst the bands of death's dreary reign,

       And rise in bright beauty and glory again.

By Nannie Grey

*See Glossary

For The Richmond Times.

Also, copied by The Pennsylvanian, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

This might be a poem about her daughter, Martha Ellen Hundley who only lived 5 days in January 1851 in Virginia. 

Oh! the pleasant days of summer how quickly on they fly

And leave no cloud of sadness, in the brilliant beaming sky,

But my heart is sick of brightness, mine eyes are dim with light

And I long for Sol to slumber, in the cooling arms of night,

When the birds have hushed their music, all save the whippoorwill

That pours his long-drawn mourning near the water of the rill,

Then forth comes chaste Diana, with all her glittering throng

And with burst of unheard melody pours out her vesper song.

Now shadows dark and falling, beneath the spreading trees

On the grassy sod so verdant, that ripples in the breeze,

The stars are shedding tears-drops, from every silvery eye

And the freshened flowers are smiling beneath the moon-lit sky.

Oh! earth is full of beauty, from gems of diamond light,

That glisten forth so brightly on the azure crown of night,

To the smallest leaf that quivers when lifted by the breeze

That sighs its sweet-tuned melody among the whispering trees.

I lay me down, enchanted, near the river dark and dim

And the waves that onward murmur seem to sing a joyous hymn

But I think with saddened spirit, on nights long since gone by

When I wandered, happy-hearted, beneath just so fair a sky,

And I remember, fondly, 'twas in the month of June

When the wavings of the forest, seemed to chant a merry tune

And I and Nannie wandered along the pebbly shore

And listened, thus in silence, to its low monotonous roar.

But Nannie lives now far away, beyond the ocean's swell

And many weary years have passed, since last we said farewell.

I never more may see her nor listen to her voice

Whose tones of love, so often, have made my heart rejoice

But the memory of her beaming face will ever fill a part

And portion of the sweetest spot, that dwells within my heart,

And when the flowers are blooming, in June, so fair and gay

I'll dream, beneath the star-light, of Nannie, far away.

?

I have seen the early morning

     Blushing in the dappled East, 

And the silvery star of evening

     Gleaming through the purple West.

I have seen the rose-bud smiling, 

     Impearled in tears of night,

And the glittering rain-drops sparkling,

     In the noon-tide’s golden light;

But nor early morn, nor evening,

     Nor noon-tide’s brightest ray

Is so lovely as “our baby,”

     Just two years old today

I have heard in dewy dawning,

    The wild-bird’s mating lay,

And the music voice of waters

     Gliding on their joyous way,

I have heard the rippling laughter 

     Of girl-hood’s gladsome glee

And the distant chime of silver bells

     Ring out so glad and free -

But no tone so sweet of waters,

      Of bell, or wild-bird’s lay

As the prattle of “our baby,” 

     Just two years old today.

Oh! She’s a darling baby!

     With eyes of heavenly blue,

And soft, bright hair, so chestnut brown,

     With golden threads run through;

She’s like a ray of sun-shine

     From out the azure skies,

Or a strain of sweetest music

     From nature’s melodies – 

For bright and fair and lovely, 

     With a cunning, winsome way

Is our darling little Ellen 

     Just two years old today.

Ellen Dowdell Hundley

August 25, 1875

Inscribed to Ellen Hundley Shober. 

Ellie was E. D. Hundley's first granddaughter and she was born August 25, 1873, 

Picture:  The photo of Ellie Shober was scanned from family photos. 

             Died, in Greensboro, North Carolina, at the home of his Mother, Mrs. E. D. Hundley on the 10th of December, 1889, and at the age of 40 years, Vivian Grey Hundley, a native of Virginia, where his unexpected and untimely death, will be sincerely mourned by many friends, and most of all by those who know him best, in the days of his youth, and in all the untraveled years of his early manhood.  To these, his many noble and excellent qualities, -- his amiable, genial, and social disposition, his  conspicuous unselfishness, and kind-hearted generosity, with a gratitude that never forgot a kindness, and a friendship that never failed.  A friend and brother, and more beautiful than all these, his unfailing love and reverential devotions for his mother, will long be remembered by his friends in Virginia, as a cherished recollection.

         To his affected Mother, and his only sister, Mrs. Col. Charles Shober, who knew him, as the world could not, and on whose hearts this death of an only son and brother falls as a crushing calamity, these loveable traits in the character of our friend, ought ever to be a sweet and comforting memory.  It is but human to error, and while we may well suppose, he often errored, let us ever indulge the hope, that his errors, were more of the head, than of the heart; and in the light of that blessed charity, which "hopeth all things," let us not in the spirit, the severaist, remember them in his epitaph.

By P.B.P.  (Philip B. Pemington)

A friend and neighbor from Cuckoo, Virginia

March 1, 1880

My Dear Sister,

              I'm glad to hear from Mother this morning that you are feeling better.  I had a time of it with boils - and sympathized a great deal with "Job."  I am glad to say that I am now well and never felt better.  Glen Alpine did not suit you nor myself - I think that 10 days rain and the dampness arising from the heat in the hotel started me on Malarial fever - but as the past sickness has taught me a lesson, I shall be more careful in the future.  I am working to get Bro Charlie and myself together and hope to buy out Hanks this fall--then Bro C and myself can make a good thing in this handle and spoke business.  Business is looking up and we will get good trees this year. My whole mind is ? on this idea - and you need not be afraid of the future - the dark part of business is now passing away.  

I am so sorry you were not able to visit in NY before you were taken sick.  I am going to have a house one of these days then you can come and bring all my little nieces to me.  I am devoted to those little children and they will never suffer for an uncle's love and protection.  Do you need anything new in the way of uncle's??  as it will soon advance. There is nothing new. Nettie is as devoted as ever.  I am glad to hear that my dear mother is better. Tell her I received the Patriot this morning.  Let me know if you or she need any book to read and I will get it.

       With love for all; and kisses for those dear little ones, and trusting that this will find you feeling well.

I am your devoted bro,

Vivian

 Fair as roseate blooming flowers

                                             In the May – 

Wreathing all the sylvan bowers

                                             Vivian Grey!

Bright as sun-dipped rainbow dyes

                                             Beauteous spray – 

In the melting azure skies

                                             Vivian Grey!

Pure, as pearly shells that lie – 

                                             In the bay – 

Each with iridescent dye

                                            Vivian Grey!

Sparkling as the golden streams

                                            On their way,

When the moon above them dreams

                                            Vivian Grey!

Sweet as fragrant violets do grow

                                            By the way – 

Perfusing through the winter snow

                                            Vivian Grey!

Sunny as the western gleam

                                           Of setting ray - 

In its bright, retiring beam

                                           Vivian Grey!

May the lights be ever yours

                                           Now, alway – 

Where the Heavenly radiance pours

                                           Vivian Grey!

And God’s blessings, ever rest – 

                                          O’er your way – 

Guiding always for the best – 

                                          Vivian Grey!

 By E. D. Hundley 

Richard T. Hundley and Ellen D. Simpson Hundley's only son born May 14, 1849 in Virginia. 

Picture:  The portrait of Vivian G. Hundley was scanned from family photos.

Just before entering the gates of Heaven

Our baby, repeatedly, made this request.

Sweet singing bird! flown far away,

On wings of light to endless day

Where streams, of life eternal, rise

In the rose-hued bowers of Paradise,

And loving angels quietly wait

To meet thee at the pearly gate.

We miss thee here, but Oh! for thee

Across the crystal, shining sea

What joys estatic - joys untold

Are found, amid the Savior's fold -

Where hymns of praise forever rise

In the glory of the upper skies.

Sweet singing bird! amid the throng,

We seem to hear thy silvery song,

And catch the soft, melodious strain

An echo of the glad refrain

Floating on waves of other light

Adown* the dim, mysterious night.

We hear again, in accents sweet,

"Write to me Mother" - 'till we meet

In Heavenly places 'neath the throne,

Where the Savior claims His own

Mother will write - on prayers of love

The message will be borne above.

While through the dusk of day's decline

The twilight star, like love Devine,

Shines soft and clear, with lucid ray.

Emblem of Hope's eternal day - 

Mother will write, and God will take

The prayerful words, for Jesus' sake.

Oh! singing bird! on snowy wing

Where angels and arch-angels sing,

Thy golden harp, with heavenly lays*

Shall ring through everlasting days - 

'Till we, beyond the brimming tide

Through "gates ajar" stand side by side

And our sweet singer, clasp once more

In rapture on the farther shore.

By E. D. Hundley

*See Glassary

Picture:  
https://cdn.pixabay.com/photo/2016/11/06/09/50/angel-1802589_960_720.jpg 

On Amalia Eleventh Birthday

With the Sunshine on Her Face

Lovingly, Grandmother

I hear her tripping down the stairs,

    With steps of airy grace,

And soon, outside, I see her

    With the sunshine on her face,

And the golden leaves about her, 

    As they fall in glittering showers

Upon the waving meadow-grass

    And the late autumnal flowers.

Her eyes, like sparkling dew-drops,

    Are dancing with delight,

Dazzling as stars of beauty

    In the azure vault of night,

While o’er her streams the radiance

    Of girlhood’s winning grace,

As I see her coming homeward

    With the sunshine on her face.

Ah!  darling child!  Amalia!

    May the future only bring

The summer scent of roses,

    The pearly hues of spring.

When life’s autumn, in its glory,

    Crowns all your years with grace,

May the heart-glow of your goodness 

    Keep the sunshine on your face.

By E. D. Hundley

Greensboro, North Carolina

November 20, 1897

Amalia Herman Shober was the seventh child of Charles and Nannie Shober. She was born on 20 November 1886.

Picture: The portrait of Amalia H. Shober was scanned from family photos.

On Her 13th Birthday

A’miable and sweet and mild,

M’other’s and grandmother’s child,

A’ll around thee, day by day

L’oving spirits guard thy way,

I’nnocent and free from guile,

A’ngels ever, o’er thee smile. 

Lovingly, Grandmother

November 20, 1899

In June the blushing roses,

Put on their brightest dyes – 

In June, the gold and azure

Illumine all the skies.

June is the very loveliest month

Of all the yearly train,

When heaven and earth are misty

With the pearly summer rain.

When the sparkling, shimmering sunshine

Is flickering through the trees

And the balmy breath of blossoms

Is floating on the breeze –

‘Twas meet* that one so lovely

Should come in summer time,

When the world is full of music

Flowing soft as runic rhyme.*

So dearest, on thy birthday,

We bring these roses rare

And twine their crimson petals

About thy golden hair.

May naught but flowers and sunshine

And birds of gladsome tune

Be ‘round about thy pathway –

And life be always June.

   By E. D. Hundley

* See Glossary

I assume it was written for her granddaughter, Vivian Grey Shober, 

Vivian was the third daughter of Charles and Nannie Shober.  She was born June 1876 and married Charles P Sellars in Greensboro, NC in 1902.

Picture: The portrait of Vivian Grey Shober was scanned from family photos.

Now the skies are fair and bright

     In these mild October days,

And the sunshine seems to light

     All the world, through a golden haze –

In the meadows, by the streams,

     Where the trees are gold and green,

Flecked with red and amber gleams

     Flickering light and shades are seen.

Now the wood dove calls its mate

     Softly, where the rivers flow,

And the breezes, springing late – 

     Bear the message to and fro.

Down the western paths of balm

     Sinks the evening sun to rest,

And soon the stars so pure and calm

     Glitter on the mountain’s crest.

October, orchard of the year –

     Full of mellowed fruits and flowers,

Full of music, far and near.

     Love and joy lead all the hours.

Now, the clear toned, silver bells,

     Echo on the viewless air,

And the same sweet story tells

     To waiting lovers, everywhere.

‘Tis a fitting time to wed

     When the world is in its prime,

When the golden light is shed

     Flowing, like a runic rhyme – 

Hark; the singing, ringing bells

     Softly hymning, bright and clear,

Overhead, their music swells

     Sweetly on the listening ear.

Virginia, may the future hours

     Bring only love and joy’s delight

And crown thee with immortal flowers,

     Celestial blooms of beauty bright.

May life flow on, a placid stream

     Of crystal waves and blessed calm,

Like some delicious, happy dream

     Until you reach the “Isles of Balm.”

My darling, like these autumn skies,

     So lovely, halcyon and serene,

May life glide on ‘neath rainbow dyes

     Your path be always gold and green,

So live that earth’s most joyous things

     May point a glorious, heavenly way,

Until above, on angel’s wings – 

     You find a pure and perfect day. 

E. D. Hundley

Greensboro, North Carolina

This poem on the wedding day of Miss Virginia Shober was 

 written by Mrs. E. D. Hundley, her grandmother, on October19, 1904.

Picture: The photo of Virginia Dowdell Shober was scanned from family pictures.

     The following invitation has been sent to our out-of-town friends. The ceremony will be witnessed only by relatives and a few intimate friends.

             Mrs. Nannie L. Shober

         invites you to be present at 

       the marriage of her daughter

            Virginia Dowdell Shober 

                                  to 

           Mr. Esley Offitt Anderson, 

        on Wednesday, October 19th, 

                   at 6 o’clock at home. 

           Greensboro, North Carolina.

                                                                       Wedding Bells

                          Marriage of Miss Shober and Mr. Anderson Last Evening

     A few friends gathered at the home of Mrs. Nannie Shober yesterday afternoon at 6 o’clock to witness the marriage of her attractive daughter, Miss Virginia Shober, to Mr. Esley O. Anderson, of Reidsville. After a sweet solo by Mrs. J A Gorham, (the bride’s sister), the bride, becomingly attired in a smart going away gown of brown silk, with hat to match and carrying a large bouquet of bride’s roses, with her sister, Miss Lettie Shober, in blue mull with white carnations, entered the parlor and was met at an altar of palms by the groom and his brother, Mr. Mac Anderson, of Chattanooga. The ceremony was performed by Rev. Egbert W. Smith, D.D., of the First Presbyterian Church.

     Miss Shober has lived in Charlotte for the last few years, to the regret of her many friends here, who were delighted when she visited among them, for she was always so happy and bright. In Charlotte she was extremely popular and admired by all who knew her. 

     Mr. Anderson is connected with the American Tobacco Co., and is an unusually fine young man with a very bright future.

     After a visit to Chattanooga and relatives in the Western part of the State, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson will be at home in Reidsville.

                      Correspondence of The Observer

                      Greensboro, October 21, 1904

     An interesting occasion was the marriage of Miss Virginia Shober, and Mr. Esley O. Anderson, of Reidsville, which was solemnized on Wednesday evening, October the 19th, at 6 o’clock, amid all the beauty and solemnity that characterizes a home wedding. Miss Shober has hosts of friends here where she has spent the greater part of her life, but it was only her relatives and most intimate friends and those of Mr. Anderson who gathered in the fading twilight of last Wednesday to witness the plighting of their troth.

     The Shober home, on Smith Street, was decorated with great taste.  In the parlor the arrangement of roses and potted plants was effective. White posts trimmed with ivy and surmounted by palms represented an altar before which the marriage vows were said. Just prior to the ceremony, Mrs. Julian A. Gorham, a sister of the bride, sang in her clear, sweet voice that old favorite, Shubert’s “Serenade.” 

     The bride entered with her maid of honor and sister, Miss Lettie Shober, and was met at the altar by the groom with his best man and brother, Mr. McCrary Anderson, of Chattanooga, Tennessee.   Rev. Egbert W. Smith performed the ceremony, at the conclusion of which happy congratulations were extended. The bride was attired in a handsome gown of brown silk, with hat to match, and carried bride’s roses. The maid of honor wore a dainty costume of pale blue mousseline with lace trimmings, and carried white carnations.

     Miss Virginia Shober, who is a daughter of Mrs. Nannie Shober, belongs to a prominent North Carolina family and one well known throughout the South. She is an extremely handsome, vivacious brunette. These attractions, combined with a lovely disposition, have made her much admired.

     Mr. Anderson is head book-keeper for the Penn Tobacco Company, of Reidsville, and highly thought of in business circles.

     Among the out of town guests present were: Mr. Charles P. and Mrs. Vivian Shober Sellars, of Raleigh and Mr. Fred and Mrs. Alma Anderson.

     Mr. and Mrs. Anderson were recipients of many extremely handsome and useful gifts. The poem, “October Wedding Bells,” written by the bride’s gifted grandmother, Mrs. E. D. Hundley, was among her most valued gifts.