Lines from Collings Hill. Nellie Hunt Collings
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and true
Go you Forth and do your duty
Do the work God bids you do.
Like a brave and valiant soldier
Brother Dearest, may you stand
Ready at a moments notice
To obey His great command
God Bless you then, Dear Brother,
And protect you on your way
That you may return in safety
Brother, we shall ever pray.
If for learning you are seeking
That, Dear Brother, you will find
For to know the ways of God
Would be knowledge most divine.
Whether on a distant shore,
Or out on the ocean foam,
Remember still, Dear Brother,
That we’ll think of you at home.
(Monroe, Utah—written for my brother George M[atthew] Hunt—May 2, 1910 when he was leaving to go on his mission to Germany.)
March 1913
…Ralph returned to work, but I think he had been laid off at Garfield and had gone on to Johnson to find work, but had not been very successful for I wrote this letter to him
Monroe, Utah
Mar. 1, 1913
Mr. Ralph Collings
Johnson, Utah
My dear sweetheart:—I was indeed sorry to hear that you had to meet with another disappointment so soon. I couldn’t sleep at all for thinking about the first night I heard it. They say life is a dear school and by the way things go you ought to get something out of it. Well, to my notion, mistakes, failures, and bad luck are a great deal better than nothing! They at least show a willing heart and hand and when we show our God that we are working for some purpose if it is ever so humble he will indeed help us. You are no doubt anxious to hear how we are getting along at home, we so far have had no luck at all.…
.…With great big love and lots of love and kisses from your Darling Nellie and babies.
Amy’s x x x x x x x
Dallin’s x x x x x x
Wardies x x x x x x
Little Nell’s x x x x
I got to thinking about all Ralph’s disappointments so I started composing a poem and finally came up with the following:
To My Dear Husband
When you go to your work in the morn, go with a brave cheerful heart,
Remember that half of the battle depends on the way you start.
At night when your work is over, and you sit and think o’er it all;
Let no shadow of sorrow or regret on your bright pathway fall.
But each fair day that you’re toiling for dear little babies and me,
Just think how I long to be doing something, “My Sweetheart” for thee.
We can’t do much toward helping; in fact, there’s only one way,
And that is to love you forever, ‘Say Papa’, How’s that for pay.
Monroe, Utah—19133
Nellie and Ralph Collings shortly after their wedding, 1906
Computer scan of Ralph and Nellie’s original marriage Certificate, 10 January 1906.
Note her signature in the lower left-hand corner, clearly reading Nellie Eliza Hunt.
3. RWC’s transcription gives 1914, but Nellie’s journals place the poem directly after her letter of 1 March 1913 to Ralph at Johnson, Utah.
About 1910
Mountain Rose
As I walked through the fields, I beheld a beautiful blossom fair.
It was a bud just unfolding, its petals bright and rare.
I thought as I gazed on this flower as it grew in this garden of ours
It was a type, a wonderful type, of God’s most beautiful flowers.
There in our little garden, this little rose bud grew,
Warmed by the summer sunshine, cooled by the morning dew,
Fairest flower that grows, we loved it—
We cared for this blossom, we called it Our Sweet Mountain Rose.
But the Master came to our fields one day and beheld our blossom rare
A beautiful Godlike treasure so He took it within his care.
Our hearts are sad—but our hearts have been sad before;
When another fair sweet flower bloomed on that bright happy shore.
Just beyond the eternal walls there is the richer ground,
Blooming in his garden may the fairest flowers be found
Side by side, by the gateway growing in sweet repose,
Stands a graceful, snow-white lily and a beautiful mountain Rose.
(Monroe, Utah—Written for Ed Naser and family when his little Rose died. His little Lily Grace died when I was about 10 years old.)
About 1910
…I was still lamenting the loss of our little Nelda [2 January 1913] and considered a little poem that I had written four years before for Thomas Ransom’s in commemoration of their little [one] as most appropriate for ourselves at this time:
Our Little Bird
One of our birds has gone away; it has flown away from our breast.
One little bird has gone from us; it has flown from the dear home nest.
It’s not lost, this beautiful bird, this beautiful bird of ours,
Tis gone to the land of the bright sunshine, gone to the land of flowers.
Down in our nest we sheltered it, safely under our wing;
Tenderly there we guarded it, then we bid our sweet birdie sing;
But the blasts of winter blew cold, and dark was the dismal rain,
Tho we held her close ‘neath our breast, our loved one quivered with pain.
When we saw that she was suffering, then we bid our sweet bird go;
We weep, not because she is lost to us, but because we love her so.
She has gone to the realm of the warm sunshine, gone to the land of rest;
There ’mid the beautiful flowers, she will build for us all a dear nest.
When the time comes for departing, swiftly we’ll take our wing
And we’ll wend our way to the beautiful land, where the birds forever sing,
When we have left our nest, our little nest here below,
We will all enter into the Heavenly Realm of the One who loves us so.
(Monroe, Utah—Written in remembrance of Thos. Ransom’s