Henry Van Dyke

Henry Van Dyke
Henry Van Dyke was an American author, educator, and clergyman known for his poetry, essays, and short stories. He served as a professor of English literature at Princeton University and was appointed by President Woodrow Wilson as the U.S. Minister to the Netherlands and Luxembourg. Van Dyke's notable works include "The Story of the Other Wise Man" and the Christmas carol "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee," set to Beethoven's "Ode to Joy."

Author's Books:

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Hard is the task of the man who at this late day attempts to say anything new about Washington. But perhaps it may be possible to unsay some of the things which have been said, and which, though they were at one time new, have never at any time been strictly true. The character of Washington, emerging splendid from the dust and tumult of those great conflicts in which he played the leading part, has... more...

LONG the old Roman road that crosses the rolling hills from the upper waters of the Marne to the Meuse, a soldier of France was passing in the night. In the broader pools of summer moonlight he showed as a hale and husky fellow of about thirty years, with dark hair and eyes and a handsome, downcast face. His uniform was faded and dusty; not a trace of the horizon-blue was left; only a gray shadow. He... more...

The Valley of VisionFighting for PeaceThe Unknown QuantityThe Ruling PassionThe Blue Flower Out-of-Doors in the Holy LandDays OffLittle RiversFisherman's Luck Poems, Collection in one volume Golden StarsThe Red FlowerThe Grand Canyon, and Other PoemsThe White Bees, and Other PoemsThe Builders, and Other PoemsMusic, and Other PoemsThe Toiling of Felix, and Other PoemsThe House of Rimmon CHARLES... more...

ACT I SCENE I Night, in the garden of NAAMAN at Damascus. At the left, on a slightly raised terrace, the palace, with softly gleaming lights and music coming from the open latticed windows. The garden is full of oleanders, roses, pomegranates, abundance of crimson flowers; the air is heavy with their fragrance: a fountain at the right is plashing gently: behind it is an arbour covered with vines. Near... more...

A REMEMBERED DREAM This is the story of a dream that came to me some five-and-twenty years ago. It is as vivid in memory as anything that I have ever seen in the outward world, as distinct as any experience through which I have ever passed. Not all dreams are thus remembered. But some are. In the records of the mind, where the inner chronicle of life is written, they are intensely clear and veridical.... more...

There was once a man who was also a writer of books. The merit of his books lies beyond the horizon of this tale. No doubt some of them were good, and some of them were bad, and some were merely popular. But he was all the time trying to make them better, for he was quite an honest man, and thankful that the world should give him a living for his writing. Moreover, he found great delight in the doing... more...

I DARKNESS Out of the Valley of Gardens, where a film of new-fallen snow lay smooth as feathers on the breast of a dove, the ancient Pools of Solomon looked up into the night sky with dark, tranquil eyes, wide-open and passive, reflecting the crisp stars and the small, round moon. The full springs, overflowing on the hill-side, melted their way through the field of white in winding channels; and along... more...

JOY AND POWER St. John viii. 17: If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them. I ask you to think for a little while about the religion of Christ in its relation to happiness. This is only one point in the circle of truth at the centre of which Jesus stands. But it is an important point because it marks one of the lines of power which radiate from Him. To look at it clearly and steadily is not... more...

The Sign in the Sky      IN the days when Augustus Caesar was master of many kings and Herod reigned in Jerusalem, there lived in the city of Ecbatana, among the mountains of Persia, a certain man named Artaban, the Median. His house stood close to the outermost of the seven walls which encircled the royal treasury. From his roof he could look over the rising battlements of black and white and... more...

THE AFTER-ECHO How long the echoes love to play  Around the shore of silence, as a wave  Retreating circles down the sand!  One after one, with sweet delay,The mellow sounds that cliff and island gave,  Have lingered in the crescent bay,  Until, by lightest breezes fanned,They float far off beyond the dying day      And leave it still as death.        But... more...

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