Jonathan Fisher


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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 15


Jonathan Fisher.

Rev. Jonathan Fisher, "minister of the Gospel in Blue Hill, Maine.," from 1796 to 1837, was 
born Oct. 7th, 1768, and after attaining "his time" taught the town school of Castine for 
quite a period.  Among the pupils that he fitted for Bowdoin College was Hon. William 
Abbott so long identified with the interests of Bangor, and one of her most prominent 
citizens.  "Parson" Fisher wrote quite extensively both in prose and verse, and was author 
of a book entitled "The Animals of the Bible," illustrated by wood cuts made by himself with 
a pen-knife.  This work had a quaint Prologue, in which, speaking of his fellow men, he 
hoped his humble work might

"Break his attachment to this earthly clod,
And turn his soul to virtue and to God."


This volume, now very rare, was printed by A. Shirley, Portland, 1827.  Mr. Fisher also 
excelled as a portrait painter.  He died in 1847.

THE LILY OF THE VALE.

There is a flower, which here below 
In nature's garden will not grow,
But in the soil which grace prepares, 
And which a heavenly influence shares,
It springs beside a sister flower,
Of stature low, but fragrant power,
Which on its breast in figures plain
Displays a heart that's rent in twain.
This lowly floweret oft appears 
With dew-drops hung, like drops of tears,
And seems to say, with modest mien,
These are the tears which fall for sin.
Where once the sun-flower stood in pride, 
Was rooted up, and fell, and died,
With fragrance sweet as morning rose,
This flower amidst the ruin grows.
Not on the hill, which rises high,
But were the lowly vallies lie,
This lonely plat with bowing heard,
Blooms half concealed amidst the shade.
Let man but try its healing power,
And in his bosom hid the flower,
Its sweet perfume will rise to heaven,
And God will speak his sins forgiven.
When God's own Son from heaven came down,
He laid aside his starry crown,
And as our pattern, daily wore
On his own breast this lowly flower,
Peace to the mourning soul that minds
Heaven's faithful marks, and seeks and finds
This plan, which can such sweets exhale,
It is the Lily of the Vale.