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FORGOTTEN FACTS AND FANCIESOF AMERICAN HISTORY AS civilization advances there develops in the heart of man a higher appreciation of the past, and the deeds of preceding generations come to be viewed with a calm criticism which denudes those deeds of false splendor and increases the lustre of real accomplishment. Man cannot see into the future and acquire the prescience of coming events which would make...
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by:
Henry Van Dyke
LEGEND Long ago Apollo called to Aristaeus, youngest of the shepherds, Saying, "I will make you keeper of my bees." Golden were the hives, and golden was the honey; golden, too, the music, Where the honey-makers hummed among the trees. Happy Aristaeus loitered in the garden, wandered in the orchard, Careless and contented,...
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I PRELUDE: THE TROOPS Dim, gradual thinning of the shapeless gloomShudders to drizzling daybreak that revealsDisconsolate men who stamp their sodden bootsAnd turn dulled, sunken faces to the skyHaggard and hopeless. They, who have beaten downThe stale despair of night, must now renewTheir desolation in the truce of dawn,Murdering the livid hours that grope for peace. Yet these, who cling to life with...
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The Voyageur Dere's somet'ing stirrin' ma blood tonight,On de night of de young new year,Wile de camp is warm an' de fire is bright,An' de bottle is close at han'—Out on de reever de nort' win' blow,Down on de valley is pile de snow,But w'at do we care so long we knowWe 're safe on de log cabane? Drink to de healt' of your wife an'...
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LIFE OF LOWELL In Cambridge there are two literary shrines to which visitors are sure to find their way soon after passing the Harvard gates, "Craigie House," the home of Longfellow and "Elmwood," the home of Lowell. Though their hallowed retirement has been profaned by the encroachments of the growing city, yet in their simple dignity these fine old colonial mansions still bespeak the...
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CANTO I IN the midway of this our mortal life,I found me in a gloomy wood, astrayGone from the path direct: and e'en to tellIt were no easy task, how savage wildThat forest, how robust and rough its growth,Which to remember only, my dismayRenews, in bitterness not far from death.Yet to discourse of what there good befell,All else will I relate discover'd there.How first I enter'd it I...
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O what is this you've done to me,Or what have I done,That bare should be our fair roof-tree,And I all alone?'Tis worse than widow I becomeMore than desolate,To face a worse than empty homeWithout child or mate.'Twas not my strife askt him his lifeWhen it was but begun,Nor mine, I was a new-made wifeAnd now I am none;Nor mine that many a sapless ghostWails in sorrow-fare—But this does...
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by:
Fay Inchfawn
The Long View Some day of days! Some dawningyet to beI shall be clothed with immortality! And, in that day, I shall not greatly careThat Jane spilt candle grease upon thestair. It will not grieve me then, as once it did,That careless hands have chipped myteapot lid. I groan, being burdened. But, in thatglad day,I shall forget vexations of the way. That needs were often great, when meanswere small,Will...
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I Because I believe that many do not understand the verse ofLichtenstein, do not correctly understand, do not clearly understand— II The first eighty poems are lyric. In the usual sense. They are not much different from poetry that praises gardens. The content is the distress of love, death, universal longing. The impulse to formulate them in the "cynical" vein (like cabaret songs) may, for...
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by:
Samuel Johnson
INTRODUCTION The pieces reproduced in this little volume are now beginning to bid for notice from their third century of readers. At the time they were written, although Johnson had already done enough miscellaneous literary work to fill several substantial volumes, his name, far from identifying an "Age", was virtually unknown to the general public. The Vanity of Human Wishes was the first of...
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