The Poets of Maine:  Thankful Pitts Norcross
Williamson.


Contributed by Tina S. Vickery
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The Poets of Maine A Collection of Specimen Poems
From Over Four Hundred Verse-Makers of the Pine Tree
State With Biographical Sketches Compiled by George
Bancroft Griffith Portland, Maine Elwell, Pickard &
Company Transcript Job Print Edward Small Binder
Copyright by Elwell, Pickard & Co 1888. page 251-252

Thankful Pitts Norcross Williamson.

Thankful P. N. Williamson was born in Industry,
Maine, Aug. 30, 1819 -- the youngest of six
children.  Her father died when she was nine years
old, and the family removed to New Sharon, where her
girlhood was spent.  She early fitted herself for
teaching and engaged in that occupation until here
marriage, which occurred Aug. 30, 1847, when she
married Wm. F. Williamson, who was also a successful
teacher of common schools.  During her girl-hood,
she wrote occasionally in verse, and published some
of her pieces over the sig-nature of "Viola."  The
Maine Farmer, a pager call the Repository, and an
anti-slavery paper known as the Liberty Standard,
were the papers where the most of her earlier pieces
appeared.  She wrote some spirited anti-slavery
poems; but as she never regarded herself a poet, she
took no pains to preserve or the publish her best
things.  She was especially apt in writing verses
for donation parties, album quilts, etc. After her
marriage she lived in New Sharon for many years,
where her three daughters were born.  In the spring
of 1881, Mr. and Mrs. W. removed to Augusta with
their youngest daughter, where they still reside.
Their ruby wedding was celebrated Aug. 30, 1887.
Mrs. Williamson has written occasionally for the
Farmer, the Farmington Chron-icle and Gospel Banner
within a few years, under the pseudonyme of "Laona."

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THE SILVER LINING

We know the stars are shining still,
Though clouds obscure the sight,
For we are sure the lofty sky
Is bathed in azure light.

Could we but feel, when sorrow comes,
And trials bar the way, --
Beyond the darkness and the clouds
There shines another day; --

We would not morn, though in our path
Few blossoms seem to grow;
Stern duty's call must be obeyed, --
Our Father wills it so.

And when the summons we shall hear,
Which sure to all must come,
the "silver lining" we shall see
In our eternal home.