Short Plays from American History and Literature for Classroom Use, Volumen1

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S. French, 1925
 

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Página 232 - UP from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
Página 237 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
Página 227 - Oh for boyhood's time of June, Crowding years in one brief moon, When all things I heard or saw, Me, their master, waited for. I was rich in flowers and trees. Humming-birds and honey-bees ; For my sport the squirrel played, Plied the snouted mole his spade ; For my taste the blackberry cone Purpled over hedge and stone; Laughed the brook for my delight Through the day and through the night, — Whispering at the garden wall, Talked with me from fall to fall ; Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond,...
Página 237 - Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught...
Página 225 - With the sunshine on thy face, Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace' From my heart I give thee joy — I was once a barefoot boy ! Prince thou art — the grown-up man Only is republican.
Página 112 - Seven long days and nights he sat there, As if in a swoon he sat there, Speechless, motionless, unconscious Of the daylight or the darkness. Then they buried Minnehaha ; In the snow a grave they made her, In the forest deep and darksome, Underneath the moaning hemlocks ; Clothed her in her richest garments, Wrapped her in her robes of ermine, Covered her with snow, like ermine ; Thus they buried Minnehaha. And at night a fire was lighted, On her grave four times was kindled, For her soul upon its...
Página 95 - SHOULD you ask me, whence these stories? Whence these legends and traditions, With the odors of the forest, With the dew and damp of meadows, With the curling smoke of wigwams, With the rushing of great rivers...
Página 116 - Gitche Manito, the Mighty, Said this to me in my vision. " I beheld, too, in that vision All the secrets of the future, Of the distant days that shall be. I beheld the westward marches Of the unknown, crowded nations. All the land was full of people, Restless, struggling, toiling, striving, Speaking many tongues, yet feeling But one heart-beat in their bosoms. In the woodlands rang their axes, Smoked their towns in all the valleys, Over all the lakes and rivers Kushed their great canoes of thunder.
Página 121 - Thus departed Hiawatha, Hiawatha the Beloved, In the glory of the sunset, In the purple mists of evening, To the regions of the home-wind, Of the Northwest wind, Keewaydin, To the Islands of the Blessed, To the kingdom of Ponemah, To the land of the Hereafter ! VOCABULAEY THE SONG OF HIAWATHA.
Página 48 - Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient, Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion, List to the mournful tradition, still sung by the pines of the forest; List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.

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