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Collections >> The First Century of the First State University >>
Primary document
Title:
Journal of Cornelia Phillips Spencer, January 7, 1866 (In Which
She Visits the Campus and Laments Over the Changes) : Electronic
Edition.
Author: Spencer, Cornelia Phillips, 1825-1908
Funding from the University Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel
Hill supported the electronic publication of this title.
Text transcribed by
Bari Helms
Images scanned by
Caitlin R. Donnelly
Text encoded by
Caitlin R. Donnelly
First Edition, 2007
Size of electronic edition: ca. 12K
Publisher: The University Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Chapel Hill, North Carolina
2007
The electronic edition is a part of the University of North Carolina at Chapel
Hill digital library, Documenting the American South.
Languages used in the text:
English
Revision history:
2007-05-29, Caitlin R. Donnelly finished TEI/XML encoding.
Source(s):
Title of collection: Cornelia Phillips Spencer Papers (#683), Southern
Historical Collection, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Title of document: Journal of Cornelia Phillips Spencer, January 7,
1866 (In Which She Visits the Campus and Laments Over the Changes)
Author: [Spencer, Cornelia Phillips, 1825-1908]
Description: 2 pages, 2 page images
Note:
Call number 683 (Southern Historical Collection,
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill)
Editorial practices
The text has been encoded using the recommendations for Level 5 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines.
Originals are in the Southern Historical Collection, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
Original grammar, punctuation, and spelling have been preserved.
Page images can be viewed and compared in parallel with the text.
Any hyphens occurring in line breaks have been removed, and the trailing part of a word has been joined to the preceding line.
All quotation marks, em dashes and ampersand have been transcribed as entity references.
All double right and left quotation marks are encoded as ".
All single right and left quotation marks are encoded as '.
All em dashes are encoded as —.
Indentation in lines has not been preserved.
For more information about transcription and other editorial decisions, see the section Editorial Practices.
The text has been encoded using the recommendations for Level 5 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines.
Originals are in the Southern Historical Collection, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
Original grammar, punctuation, and spelling have been preserved.
Page images can be viewed and compared in parallel with the text.
Any hyphens occurring in line breaks have been removed, and the trailing part of a word has been joined to the preceding line.
All quotation marks, em dashes and ampersand have been transcribed as entity references.
All double right and left quotation marks are encoded as ".
All single right and left quotation marks are encoded as '.
All em dashes are encoded as —.
Indentation in lines has not been preserved.
For more information about transcription and other editorial decisions, see the section Editorial Practices.
Journal of Cornelia
Phillips Spencer
, January 7, 1866 (In Which She Visits the Campus and
Laments Over the Changes)
, January 7, 1866 (In Which She Visits the Campus and
Laments Over the Changes) Page [112]
First Sunday of the
year. 7th
Paid a visit to the Di Library 29th.
While waiting for the key walked alone up & down before the building
— looking at every tree & path & every building
with the same interest we look into a friend's eyes who is talking to us. The
natural objects are all there — the same great oaks — the
steps — the turf. Things are so little changed & yet so
greatly. So much is gone — & so much remains. I never walk
thro' those grounds without pangs of heart. There are some doors &
windows in which I seem to see a familiar face & form —
"the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still"
And the sound of a voice that is still"
Page [113]
— yes there are some things that are
indelible, immortal, & we never feel this more keenly than in such
moments — looking at the apparently longer-lived natural objects
— that stand & live & bloom — &
flourish while the love & hope & thousand tender memories
associated with them — the voices & faces that haunt them
seem passed forever; even then when nature seems to mock us with her
immutability & steadfastness compared with our changing fading, dying
lot, even then we feel that these things that
surround us are nothing substantial as they appear, it is they that are to perish & to pass into nothing, —
but Love is immortal the memory of it is indelible
—
Oh Love! they die on your rich sky.
They faint on hill & field & river.
Our echoes roll from soul to soul.
And grow forever & forever.
They faint on hill & field & river.
Our echoes roll from soul to soul.
And grow forever & forever.
I repeated these lines over & over as I paced up & down that
familiar ground — looking here, looking there, as if for some traces
of him to be found yet.