20 The men who press with the ardor of hope, The men who are faint with the strife. But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears- Let me live in my house by the side of the road 25 I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead And mountains of wearisome height; 30 That the road passes on through the long afternoon And stretches away to the night. But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice, And weep with the strangers that moan, Nor live in my house by the side of the road Let me live in my house by the side of the road 35 They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are 85 40 strong, Wise, foolish-so am I. Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat, Or hurl the cynic's ban?- Let me live in my house by the side of the road GLOSSARY. Hermit; pioneer; blaze; cynic; ban; ardor. STUDY. Much has been written about the great deeds of exceptional men, but less about those who quietly go through life doing the simple duties of the day. What ideal of life is desired by the speaker? What three classes of souls are mentioned for contrast? In what respect are these three classes alike? And how do all differ from the ideal desired? Point out in each of the following stanzas the evidences of a keen sense of human brotherhood-of the feeling that the true zest of life is in being at one with, and not dwelling apart from, all other human beings. Are scorners and cynics ever of any value to the world? Can you see how the quotation from Homer really furnishes the key to the poem? TO A WATERFOWL WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly seen against the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast- Lone wandering, but not lost. 5 10 15 20 25 30 All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, And soon that toil shall end; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form; yet, on my heart He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, Will lead my steps aright. GLOSSARY. Fowler; plashy; marge; chafed; desert; illimitable; abyss. STUDY. Picture clearly the scene suggested by the first and second stanzas. What three possible destinations of the waterfowl are mentioned in stanza 3? How does the poet explain the certainty of its movement? How does this explanation account for the facts of stanza 5? What end does the poet see to the fowl's journey? What likeness does he see between his own career and that of the waterfowl? What effect would this have upon one who was inclined to be discouraged? (Notice that "road," or "way," in this poem and the preceding one is used in a figurative sense. Does it have the same meaning in each?) I HAVE A RIGHT JEAN INGELOW We, as a nation, are remarkably fond of talking about our rights. The expression, "I have a right,' is constantly in our mouths. This is one reason, among many others, why it is fortunate for us that we speak English, since this favorite phrase in more than one continental tongue has no precise equivalent. Whether the nation's phrase grew out of the nation's character, or whether the happy possession of such a phrase has helped to mold that character, it is scarcely now worth while to inquire. Certain it 10 is that those generations which make proverbs, make thereby laws which govern their children's children, and thus, perhaps, it comes to pass that this neat; independent, Anglo-Saxon phrase helps to get and keep for us the very rights it tells of. For, as under 15 some governments it is true that the dearest and most inalienable rights of the race go by the name of privilege, indulgence, or immunity, a concession, and not an inheritance; a gift, and not a birthright; while ancient rights, in our sense of this word, merge into 20 mere privileges held at the ruler's will, and having been once called privileges, may be exchanged by him for other privileges which may amount to no more than the sight of a glittering show; so in our case it is true that privileges have a constant tendency to 25 merge into rights. Let any man grant his neighbors the privilege of walking through his fields, his park, or his grounds, and then see how soon it will be said that they have a right to traverse them; and in fact 30 very soon they will have a right by the law of the land; for, to prove the right, they need only show that they have enjoyed the privilege "time out of mind." And then, again, Right is very unfair to his cousin Privilege, for, by the laws of England, sixty 35 years constitute "time out of mind." By taking the trouble to investigate, any person may find many parallel cases, and so we keep the path of liberty. First we got that path as a sort of privilege which was winked at; then we made out that 40 we had a right to it; next we proved that it wanted widening, and then we paved it handsomely, made a king's highway of it, and took pains to have it constantly in repair. Now, it being an acknowledged thing, my dear 45 friends, that we have rights, and that we like to have these facts well known to all whom it may concernhow glad you will be if I can point out to you certain rights which some of you have scarcely considered at all. I have met with numbers of worshipful old 50 gentlemen, industrious young workmen, and women of all degrees, who knew well how to use our favorite phrase in its common vulgar sense; but I knew a worshipful old baker, in an old country town, who used it oftener than any of them. To hear him hold forth 55 about his rights did one's heart good, and made one proud of one's country. Everybody else's rights appeared flat and tame compared with his, and the best |