NOBLE JOSEPH

Male 1819 - 1907  (88 years)


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  • Name NOBLE JOSEPH  [1
    Born 1819  England Find all individuals with events at this location  [1
    Gender Male 
    Died 1907  [1
    Person ID I20745  Gynzer's Genealogy Database
    Last Modified 4 Jul 2005 

    Father NOBLE JOHN,   b. 1792, Huddersfield, Yorkshire, England Find all individuals with events at this location,   d. 31 Aug 1878  (Age 86 years) 
    Mother DYSON MARTHA,   b. 1795,   d. 15 Jul 1852  (Age 57 years) 
    Family ID F07156  Group Sheet  |  Family Chart

    Family UNKNOWN 
    Children 
     1. NOBLE LEWIS,   d. Died in boyhood. Find all individuals with events at this location
     2. NOBLE ETTA
    Family ID F07167  Group Sheet  |  Family Chart

  • Notes 
    • Joseph's occupation was Methodist minister. He lived at Patterson, New Jersey. Joseph was the family poet and authored the following poem: Oh let us be Noble; not only in name, But in words and in thoughts and in action the same, And in all that is Noble, let us ever strive hard, And in Heaven reap a Noble reward.

      Joseph, second son of John and Martha Noble, was born in 1819. He was converted at the age of 17. He was a member of the New Connection Methodist Church. His first winter in Wisconsin, 1842-43, he preached the first sermon at the English Settlement at the home of James Tinekr. He later moved to Burlington and finally to Petterson, New Jersey, where he and his wife made their home. He was a weaver fo fine silk. One son was born to them, Lewis, who died in his boyhood and one daughter, Etta, (Mrs. Hays), who had a daughter and sons, but no further record has been found of his descendants.

      I his later life, he became interested in the Spiritualist religion. His brother, Dyson, died at his home in New Jersey and had never married.

      Joseph frequently visited his brothers in Wisconsin and in 1893, he with his five remaining brothers had a group picture taken. they were all white haired men, Lewis being the youngest at the age of 62.

      Joseph was the poet of the family, writing poetry for amny occasions. He gave the following helpful lines to his brothers and descendants:

      "Oh let us be Noble, not only in name,
      But in words and in thoughts and in action the same
      And in all that is Noble, let us ever strive hard
      And in heaven reap a Noble reward."

      From "Joseph Henry Noble and Annie Haigh Noble Family History and Genealogy"

      POEMS WRITTEN BY JOSEPH NOBLE

      The following two poems were written by Joseph Noble, the son of John Noble. Joseph lived in Patterson, New Jersey.

      The first poem was written for a friend residing in Clifton, England, and has references to the scenes and incidents of his early life.

      MY NATIVE HOME by Joseph Noble

      Forty-eight years ago, or mroe,
      I left old England's briny shore,
      And came to this far western land.

      The keen regret I did imbibe,
      To you I cannot now describe,
      What I felt no tongue can tell,
      When bidding living friends farewell.

      I always love my native home,
      And with regret I here did come,
      But circumstances seemed to say
      'Twas best for me to come away.

      So here I came in search of health,
      In search of fortune and of wealth;
      An oh! What changes I have seen,
      While in this foreign land I've Been.

      Though I have lived here forty years,
      'Midst shade and sunshine, storms and tears,
      Though my adopted home I bless,
      I love old England none the less.

      I've traveled for away down east,
      I've traveled far away out west,
      Where'er I go, where'er I roam,
      I never find a place like home.

      My native home! Oh yes, 'Tis sweet
      To think of that dear, sacred spot
      Where I first breathed the vital air-
      Where I enjoyed a mother's care.

      I love the hawthorne and holly bough
      From which we made our knurs, you know;
      The wild brier, with its rose so sweet,
      And those grand violets at their feet.

      I love the skylark's thrilling notes,
      As proudly in the air it floats,
      The cuckoo, too, I loved to hear,
      Reminding me that spring was near.

      And I love those games and sports,
      Those gala days and grand resorts,
      With football, cricket, knurr and spell,
      With shuttlecock, and kites as well.

      And those excursions cheap, which rn
      To London, York, and the Isie of Man,
      To Harrogate, Hull, and Scarbro', too,
      As at lightning speed on the rail we flew.

      O what fond memories cluster round
      Those bygone days, wherein I found
      Those lovely scenes I can't forget
      Those joys and sports I'd relish yet.

      Although my memory has grown poor,
      Alathough death is nearly at my door,
      And old and feeble though I be-
      These things all seem still fresh to me.

      Tho' seven times I've crossed the sea,
      Yet once again I'd like to be
      Landed on that briny shore,
      And see my native home once more.

      But now I fear this cannot be,
      For I am old and grey, you see;
      I must forego that boon so dear,
      And tarry, whilst I live, just here.

      But soon I'll drop this mortal clay,
      And rise to that eternal day,
      And when in spirit life I reign,
      I'll see my native home again.

      I'll take my bearings from the sky,
      And then, as quick as thought, I'll fly
      On wings of love until I come
      To that sweet place-my native home.

      I'll visit first that humble cot,
      Where nature first did cast my lot;
      Where I first saw the light of day,
      And started on life's thorny way.

      Around that garden then I'll go,
      Where I did cultivate and grow
      Those flowers so grand, that fruit so sweet,
      The flowers to view, the fruit to eat.

      I'll visit then my childhood's scenes,
      Which now to me look just like dreams,
      Those places, when on pleasures bent,
      In which my youthful days were spent.

      I'll tread those fields, those lanes, that road
      Where I, and my intended trod;
      Where I, with her so bright and fair,
      Built many castles in the air.

      I'll see that church, which once we went,
      With loving hearts and good intent,
      To get that man with silvery tones
      To tie the knot-'twas Parson Jones.

      Those sacred places then I'll reach
      Where I the word did use to preach,
      Where many a happy day I've spent
      In labours that were then well meant.

      With my dear wife adn children then
      I'll run o'er field and glade and glen;
      I'll mount those rocks, I'll ford these rills,
      I'll climb those grand old Yorkshire hills.

      With nought to stay our progress there,
      We'll run and ramble everywhere;
      With pleasure we will often roam
      Around that sweet, that native home.


      The following untitled poem was composed and read by Joseph at the Noble Reunion and picnic held in the English Settlement on September 23, 1893.

      UNTITLED by Joseph Noble

      Dear brothers so loving, so faithful and true,
      It gives me great pleasure to meet with you;
      As well as those nephews, nieces and friends
      With whom my feelings and sympathy blends.

      Fifty-one years ago, or a little more,
      You arrived on Wisconsin's lake bound shore,
      You have pitched your tent, you here took your stand
      On which was then this far western land.

      With father and mother, Henrietta and Ann,
      With Allen and Dyson you here began
      To start a new life and build up a home
      And citizens of this new country become.

      Your prospects in life you then thought were bright
      And so you prepared life's battle to fight.
      That life has been checkered again and again
      With sunshine and shade and pleasure and pain.

      Dear Henrietta was first to be taken away
      In the bloom of her youth, so cheerful and gay,
      And then poor Dyson sickened and died,
      Far away down east, close by my side.

      And then dear father the summons obeyed
      And in the quiet grave his body was laid.
      And soon after that dear mother was called
      To join the glad throng in the heavenly fold.

      Eighteen years ago the rest of me met
      On that old homestead that stands there yet
      With sister, seven brothers and nephews and nieces;
      All happy and pleasant with sweet smiling faces.

      But very soon after poor Allen passed on,
      And today we find sister Ann, too, has gone.
      The youngest and oldest have reached that blest shore
      Where those I have mentioned had passed on before.

      Thus six have passed on and six are left here.
      At this Noble picnic now we appear;
      There's James and there's John, Simeon and John,
      With Henry and Lewis following on.

      Tough, old and feeble, we are here today;
      Though careworn and tired, wrinkled and gray,
      With the turmoils and troubles, disappointments and tears
      That we have experienced the last fifty years.

      In a few years more we shall all be gone,
      One after another we shall soon pass on.
      But O! What a host of nephews and nieces
      Stand ready and willing to step in our places.

      To give you their names it was my intention,
      But I find them far too numerous to mention.
      The young and the old, the large and the small,
      It would take me all day to go through them all.

      There's fifty-nine nephews and sixty-two nieces.
      Which shows how this Noble family increases.
      They have increased and scattered in rapid motion,
      Until they now reach from ocean to ocean.

      Away down east on the Atlantic coast
      There are four of whom I am proud to boasst,
      And away out west on the Pacific slope
      There is one who is making his fortune I hope.

      And between those seas they are sandwiched in,
      So numerous I hardly know where to begin.
      To give you their residence, their location relate,
      For I find them in almost every state.

      Some you find way off in Minnesota
      And some you find in the state of Dakota.
      In Iowa and Kansas the Noble's appear,
      And both are well represented here.

      And still I find there are a few more,
      Far over the lake on the Michigan shore,
      And as for Wisconsin, my how rank they appear,
      If you don't believe it, just look around here.

      O! What sweet memories will cluster around
      The pleasures and greetings which among you I've found,
      From the odlest and youngest all through the line;
      To make me so welcome you have seemed to combine.

      It's been Uncle Joe her, and Uncle Joe there,
      It' been Uncle Joe, Uncle Joe everywhere;
      I am greeted with this wherever I go
      Even that little babe says how do you do, Uncle Joe?

      Dear brothers, dear nephews and nieces too,
      I thank you sincerely, I thank you all through;
      Through all coming years, wherever I be
      I shall never forget your kindness to me.

      But soon we must part perhaps never to meet,
      Again in this life each other to greet.
      But let us all meet on that evergreen shore,
      Where parting will never be known any more.







  • Sources 
    1. [S067874] Jo Ann Noble.


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