I am finding a lot of writing done by Eliza Carleton Green. They are not dated, but some of them have been sent off somewhere and have criticism written in the margins.
This is one of her poems:
The Wood Lot
Of all the past enjoyments
That still to memory cling,
I love most to ponder o'er
The wood lot in the spring.
Far down across the meadow,
Close beside the brook,
The oak tree and the willow
Their leafy branches shook.
In the soft and gentle breeze
That whispered low and clear --
Awake and grow! feel now at ease,
For summer days are near.
The birdies held a banquet.
The bunnies gave a ball.
Both were staged beneath the trees
Close by the waterfall,
Which laughed and gurgled as it fell
In sparkling radiant mood,
And hurried on to join the creek
That wound on through the wood.
There close beside its rocky bank
The violet beds we found
And farther on the sunny slopes
In lilies did abound.
I close my eyes and ponder --
A million memories cling;
And once again I wander
In the wood lot; and it's Spring.
That still to memory cling,
I love most to ponder o'er
The wood lot in the spring.
Far down across the meadow,
Close beside the brook,
The oak tree and the willow
Their leafy branches shook.
In the soft and gentle breeze
That whispered low and clear --
Awake and grow! feel now at ease,
For summer days are near.
The birdies held a banquet.
The bunnies gave a ball.
Both were staged beneath the trees
Close by the waterfall,
Which laughed and gurgled as it fell
In sparkling radiant mood,
And hurried on to join the creek
That wound on through the wood.
There close beside its rocky bank
The violet beds we found
And farther on the sunny slopes
In lilies did abound.
I close my eyes and ponder --
A million memories cling;
And once again I wander
In the wood lot; and it's Spring.









