Faith, Hope, and Charity

Eliza R. Snow, the second general Relief Society president, was called “Zion’s Poetess” by the Prophet Joseph Smith. A prolific poet, she wrote hundreds of poems throughout her life.
When Eliza began publishing poetry, she wrote under pseudonyms to avoid drawing attention to herself. However, she soon became recognized for her abilities and acknowledged her work. When two former United States presidents, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, both died on July 4, 1826, she was asked to write a requiem for them. She could have enjoyed a career as a nationally known poet.
Following her conversion to the Church and baptism in 1835, however, she turned her talents to the building of the kingdom of God. She wrote, “For thy approval, Lord, shall prompt my pen.” She wrote poetry for self-expression and to cheer the Saints. After the Martyrdom, she said, “The mob in the vicinity of Nauvoo, knowing that I wielded the pen, had threatened my life, lest, as they said, I should write about the tragic scene at Carthage.” Despite these threats, she continued to write and expressed her grief through poetry.
A year after the Prophet’s death, the mother of her dear friend Zina D. H. Young died, causing Eliza to deeply contemplate eternal life. She composed “O My Father,” now her most recognized hymn text. Nine of her other poems, set to music, appear in our current hymn book: “Awake, Ye Saints of God, Awake!”, “Great Is the Lord,” “Though Deepening Trials,” “Again We Meet Around the Board,” “Behold the Great Redeemer Die,” “How Great the Wisdom and the Love,” “The Time Is Far Spent,” “Truth Reflects Upon Our Senses,” and “In Our Lovely Deseret.”
A friend recently gave me a book of Eliza R. Snow’s poems published in 1856—a generous and marvelous gift. Topics include the first colony in Massachusetts, the Saints’ trials in Missouri, marriage, tributes to various Church leaders, and death.
The following is a sample from Poems: Religious, Historical, and Political.

True Happiness

The noblest, proudest joys that this
World’s favor can dispense,
Are far inferior to the bliss
Of conscious innocence.
The joy that in the bosom flows,
No circumstance can bind;
It is a happiness that knows
No province but the mind.

It makes the upright soul rejoice,
With weight of ills opprest,
To hear the soothing, still small voice
Low whispering in the breast.
The favor of the mighty God,
The favor of His Son,
The Holy Spirit shed abroad,
The hope of life to come.

janet Uncategorized