Musings, a poem by Miriam del Banco (1932)

Contributor(s): Miriam del Banco and Aharon N. Varady (transcription)

Shared on: 2 June 2022 under the Creative Commons Zero (CC 0) Universal license a Public Domain dedication

Categories: Old Age

Tags: 19th century C.E., 57th century A.M., English poetry, English vernacular prayer, Prayers as poems

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Contribute a translation	Source (English)
	Musings
	Floating softly down from cloudland, Veiling o’er the azure blue, Robing all the earth in shadows, Hiding everything from view. In the twilight, in the gloaming, Like the spirits of the night, Bringing darkness with their brightness, Fell the flakes of gleaming white.
	One pale, vestal star had glittered Faintly through the twilight grey, But its silv’ry beams had vanished With the shrouded death of day; Said my heart: “The days are dreary And the earth is filled with woe; Every friend has vanished—vanished, Like a landscape in the snow.”
	And my gaze, by teardrops blinded, Turned from winter’s cold and gloom, Met a brighter, fairer picture As the firelight lit the room; While beside me, warm and glowing, Sweet as by-gone summer hours, Stood a gift from friendship’s fingers— Softly tinted, fragrant flowers.
	Smilax sprays, some pale, sweet roses, Feathery ferns and pinks as white As the spotless fragments drifted On the sleeping face of Night; Vaguely chimed their silv’ry voices; There’s no friendship but the true, And rememb’rance, Friendship’s echo, Seeks this guise to speak to you.
	And to say: “Like flowers of summer Blooming near us unawares, Thus does joy bloom on our pathway, E’en when life seems dark with cares; Friendship true can never perish, Though our faith may pass away, As a fragrance haunts the senses Though the roses may decay.
	Friendship is not like a snowflake, But as constant and as true As its want that springs within us— As the violet’s eyes are blue; Shame it not by doubts and questions— If it lives, it lives for aye.” Softly, strangely had the voices Melted with the dying day.
	Long I sat there in the firelight As the room it dimly lit, Till upon the air before me Three young faces seemed to flit— May their friendship blossom for me As their flowers, fresh and bright, F’en when age has turned our tresses Silv’ry as the snows tonight.

The poem “Musings” by Miriam del Banco (1858-1931) was included in her posthumously published anthology, Poetry and Prose (1932), p. 115-116. The poem was likely published during her lifetime, but we do not know where or when. If you know, please leave a comment, or contact us. –Aharon Varady

Source(s)

“Musings, a poem by Miriam del Banco (1932)” is shared through the Open Siddur Project with a Creative Commons Public Domain Dedication 1.0 Universal license.

Miriam del Banco

Miriam del Banco (27 June 1858 - 6 November 1931) was a writer, poet, translator, and educator. She was the daughter of Rabbi Max Del Banco (1825-1864), a reform rabbi with a congregation in Evansville, Indiana at the time of his death. Johanna (née Meyer), Miriam's mother, moved to St. Louis and there Miriam began her education in its public schools, displaying remarkable poetic talent. Later she was sent to her uncle at Cape Girardeau, Missouri, where she attended the State Normal School. After graduating with honors, she rejoined her mother, who in the mean time had moved to Chicago. There, in 1885, Ms. Del Banco began teaching in the public schools, and from 1889 onward, as the assistant principal at the Von Humboldt School. Later on she served as the principal of the McClellan and Motley schools in Chicago. In 1921, at the age of 63, she earned a PhD from DePaul University. She was a frequent contributor to both the Jewish and general press, having written a large number of poems, both Jewish and secular, and often under the pseudonym, "the Pansy" (after her favorite flower).

Aharon N. Varady (transcription)

Aharon Varady (M.A.J.Ed./JTSA Davidson) is a volunteer transcriber for the Open Siddur Project. If you find any mistakes in his transcriptions, please let him know. Shgiyot mi yavin; Ministarot naqeni שְׁגִיאוֹת מִי־יָבִין; מִנִּסְתָּרוֹת נַקֵּנִי "Who can know all one's flaws? From hidden errors, correct me" (Psalms 19:13). If you'd like to directly support his work, please consider donating via his Patreon account. (Varady also translates prayers and contributes his own original work besides serving as the primary shammes of the Open Siddur Project and its website, opensiddur.org.)

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ויהי נעם אדני אלהינו עלינו ומעשה ידינו כוננה עלינו ומעשה ידינו כוננהו "May the pleasantness of אדֹני our elo’ah be upon us; may our handiwork be established for us — our handiwork, may it be established." –Psalms 90:17