WINDFALLS. ROSE AND ROOF-TREE.  O wayward rose, why dost thou wreathe so high, Wasting thyself in sweet-breath'd ecstasy? "The pulses of the wind my life uplift, And through my sprays I feel the sunlight sift; "And all my fibres, in a quick consent Entwined, aspire to fill their heavenward bent. "I feel the shaking of the far-off sea, And all things growing blend their life with me: "When men and women on me look,... more...

STRIKE HANDS, YOUNG MEN!    Strike hands, young men!We know not whenDeath or disaster comes,Mightier than battle-drumsTo summon us away.Death bids us say farewellTo all we love, nor stayFor tears;—and who can tellHow soon misfortune's handMay smite us where we stand,Dragging us down, aloof,Under the swift world's hoof?    Strike hands for faith, and powerTo gladden the passing hour;To wield the sword, or raise a... more...

POINT OF VIEW. This book was not designed as a biography, but is rather a portrait. And, to speak more carefully still, it is not so much this, as my conception of what a portrait of Hawthorne should be. For I cannot write with the authority of one who had known him and had been formally intrusted with the task of describing his life. On the other hand, I do not enter upon this attempt as a mere literary performance, but have been assisted in it... more...