Power THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES Poems For Memorizing COMPILED BY ALICE ROSE POWER WITH INTRODUCTION BY PROF. ELL WOOD P. CUBBERLEY LELAND STANFORD JR. UNIVERSITY FOR SALE BY THE WHITAKER & RAY CO. SAN FRANCISCO 1901 ALL. RIGHTS RESERVED INTRODUCTION. This collection of poems for memorizing should prove very useful, not only to teachers in San Francisco, but throughout the United States as well. The selection has been carefully made with a view both to literary content and to suitability to children of the different grades, and the gathering together of all these poems in one volume cannot fail to be of great ser- vice to teachers. Selections for memorizing should be used in every public school. It is well worth a child's time to come to know many passages from the best literature. In memorizing them and rendering them properly, a training in feeling and appre- ciation and a refinement of the emotions is involved which is of great importance in education. They represent in part the culture side of public school work, as distinct from the fact or information side. This culture side of public school train- ing is an element which should not be neglected by any teacher, and a judicious use of selections from the best litera- ture will contribute much toward awakening an appreciation of what is beautiful and noble, and fixing a permanent interest in good literature. If this can be done, it will prove of greater lasting value than many of the facts upon which so much emphasis is placed. 7 626661 INTRODUCTION. The first thing to do in giving out a new selection for memorizing is to show pupils how to study it. The selection should be placed on the blackboard where all the class may see it, or copied down from dictation. The teacher should read it to the pupils, giving attention to articulation, emphasis, inflection and pauses, and, if necessary, explaining the thought contained. Pupils should be taught to memorize by sentences, paragraphs, or groups of words expressing a thought rather than word by word. The selections, when memorized, should be delivered in such a manner as to indicate an appreciation of the thoughts contained therein. ELLWOOD P. CUBBERLEY. Leland Stanford Jr. University PREFACE. There has always been a demand for a well graded and carefully selected list of poerns for memorizing. The several hundred books of selections do not meet the requirements of the modern teacher and the modern child. The first requisite of a poem for memorizing is its ethical and literary value. Benjamin Ide Wheeler, in his article on " Art of Language," says, "Poetry is prof ounder than psychology." The rhyming nonsense in the average book of selections does not meet Pres. Wheeler's description of poetry. Why not give the children the best literature ? Prof. Ell wood P. Cubberley performed a real service when he made a selection of poems suitable for grade work. The poems have been tested in San Francisco and other schools. I experienced so much difficulty in securing the poems recom- mended that I determined to compile them in one volume. As a result I offer this book to teachers aud pupils. It contains the entire list recommended by Prof. Cubberley with but three or four exceptions. I am under deep obligation to Hough ton, Mifflm & Com- pany for their kind permission to use the copyrighted poems of Lowell, Whittier, Longfellow, Larcom, and others. To Boweu, Merrill & Co. for the copyrighted poems of James Whitcomb Riley, to the Whitaker & Ray Co. for their use of Joaquin Miller's "Columbus," and A. J. Waterhouse's "Lullaby." ALICE ROSE POWER. Teacher in San Francisco School Department. CONTENTS. FIRST GRADE. PAQB Sweet and Low Alfred Tennyson .... 15 The Owl and the Pussy-Cat . . . Edward Lear 16 The Cloud Author not known .... 17 Little by Little Author not known .... 18 Children Henry W. Longfellow . . 18 The Little Lazy Cloud . . . . . Author not known .... 20 Sleep, Baby, Sleep Author not known .... 21 My Good-for-Nothing Emily Huntington Miller . 22 Runaway Brook Mrs. Eliza L. Pollen ... 23 The Baby George Macdonald .... 23 My Shadow Robert Louis Stevenson . . 25 Sleep, Baby, Sleep (cradle song) . . Elizabeth Prentiss .... 25 Three Little Bugs in a Basket . . . Alice Gary 27 SECOND GRADE. Barefoot Boy (ten lines) John G. Whittier .... 29 The Boy and the Bird Author not known .... 29 Raindrops Author not known .... 30 Seven Times One Jean Ingelow 31 Two and One Author not known .... 32 The New Moon Mrs. Eliza L. Pollen ... 33 Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star . . . Jane Taylor 34 If I were a Sunbeam Lucy Larcom 35 Lullaby J. G. Holland 36 All Things Beautiful Mrs. C. P. Alexander . . 37 Do All that You Can Mrs. M. E. Sangster ... 38 A Lullaby A. J. Waterhouse .... 39 Little Raindrops Author not known .... 40 THIRD GRADE. The Brown Thrush Lucy Larcom 41 The Wonderful World Charles H. Browne . . .42 Is It You? Author not known .... 43 By-and-By . Author not known .... 44 11 Contents. PAGE I once had a sweet little doll . . . Charles Kingsley .... 45 The Brook Alfred Tennyson .... 45 The Dandelion Author not known .... 48 If ever I see Lydia Maria Child ... 49 Drive the nail aright Author not known .... 50 Jack in the Pulpit Clara Smith 51 Little Brown Hands M . H. Krout 53 Suppose Author not known .... 54 America Samuel F. Smith .... 55 Don't Give Up Phoebe Gary 56 FOUETH GRADE. The Happiest Heart John Vance Cheney ... 58 Something Left Undone Henry W. Longfellow . . 58 Suppose, my little lady Phoebe Gary 59 Boys Wanted Author not known .... 61 The Fountain James Russell Lowell ... 62 Three Companions Dinah M. Mulock Craik . . 63 A Life Lesson James Whitcomb Riley . . 64 The Fiftieth Birthday of Agassiz . . Henry W. Longfellow . . 65 The Sculptor Bishop Doane 66 Another Blue Day Thomas Carlyle .... 67 The Barefoot Boy John G. Whittier .... 68 A Night with a Wolf Bayard Taylor 70 The Good Time Coming Charles Mackay .... 71 The Brook and the Wave .... Henry W. Longfellow . . 73 FIFTH GRADE. Love of Country Sir Walter Scott .... 75 The Village Blacksmith Henry W. Longfellow . . 76 Break, break, break Alfred Tennyson .... 78 The Vicar's Sermon Charles Mackay .... 79 The Three Fishers Charles Kingsley .... 80 Nobility Alice Gary 81 The Arrow and the Song .... Henry W. Longfellow . . 82 The Landing of the Pilgrims . . . .Ifrs. Hemans 83 How sleep the brave William Collins .... 85 12 Contents. One by One Adelaide A. Proctor ... 85 The Builders Henry W. Longfellow . . 87 The Will and the Way John G. Saxe 88 My Books John G. Saxe 89 The Light that is Felt John Greenleaf Whittier . . 91 Decoration Day Henry W. Longfellow . . 92 Somebody's Mother Author not known .... 93 The Heritage James Russell Lowell ... 94 Psalm XXIII 96 SIXTH GRADE. Thanksgiving Hymn for California . Mrs. Stetson 9? The Day is Done Henry W. Longfellow . . 98 The Last Leaf Oliver Wendell Holmes . . 100 Ring out, wild bells Alfred Tennyson .... 102 Soldier, rest Sir Walter Scott .... 104 A Song James Whitcomb Riley . . 105 The American Flag Joseph R. Drake .... 106 The Rainy Day Henry W. Longfellow . . 108 Burial of Sir John Moore .... Charles Wolfe ..... 109 Over and Over Again Josephine Pollard .... Ill A Psalm of Life Henry W. Longfellow . . 112 An Order for a Picture Alice Gary 114 SEVENTH GRADE. The Vision of Sir Launfal .... James Russell Lowell . . . 118 Columbus Westward Joaquin Miller 119 Bugle Song Alfred Tennyson .... 121 To a Skylark . . . Percy Bysshe Shelley . . .122 Sail on, O ship of state Henry W. Longfellow . . 126 What Constitutes a State? .... Sir William Jones .... 127 Crossing the Bar Alfred Tennyson .... 128 The Sound of the Sea Henry W. Longfellow . . 129 Snow-bound John G. Whittier .... 129 The Chambered Nautilus .... Oliver Wendell Holmes . . 132 Song of Marion's Men William Cullen Bryant . . 133 Warren's Address John Pierpont . . . . . 136 13 Contents. PAGE Daybreak Henry W. Longfellow . . 137 Liberty, or Death Patrick Henry 138 Hymn on the Fight at Concord . . R. W. Emerson 141 Woodman, Spare That Tree . . . George P. Morris .... 142 Abou Ben Adhem James Henry L. Hunt . - 143 EIGHTH GRADE. O Captain ! My Captain ! . . . . Walt Whitman 145 Thanatopsis William Cullen Bryant . . 145 A Man 's a Man for a' That . . . Robert Burns 149 To a Waterfowl William Cullen Bryant . . 151 Remembered Music James Russell Lowell . . . 152 Old Ironsides Oliver Wendell Holmes . . 153 Battle Hymn of the Republic . . . Julia Ward Howe .... 154 Liberty and Union Daniel Webster 155 The Shell Alfred Tennyson .... 157 Self-dependence Matthew Arnold .... 158 Sun and Shadow Oliver Wendell Holmes . . 159 Address at Gettysburg Abraham Lincoln .... 160 The Way to Heaven J. G. Holland 162 Elegy Thomas Gray 163 True Rest Goethe 168 The Present Crisis James Russell Lowell . . . 169 Abraham Lincoln E. C. Stedman 171 The Ladder of St. Augustine . . . Henry W. Longfellow . . 172 Contentment Lucy Larcom 174 Recessional Rudyard Kipling .... 176 OLD FAVORITES. Robert of Lincoln William Cullen Bryant . .177 Casabianca Mrs. Hemans 180 What I Live for Author not known .... 182 The Burial of Moses Mrs. C. F. Alexander . . 183 Sheridan's Ride Thomas Buchanan Read . 186 Charge of the Light Brigade . . . Alfred Tennyson .... 189 THOUGHTS FOR MEMORIZING 191-201 14 POEMS FOR MEMORIZING FIRST GRADE. SWEET AND LOW. Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon ; Father will come to his babe in the nes^ Silver sails all out of the west ^ s ' Under the silver moon ; Sleep, my little one, sleep my pretty 01 _ Alf im, r not known. 15 Poems For Memorizing THE OWL AND THE PUSSY-CAT. The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat; They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note. The Owl looked up to the moon above, And sang to a small guitar, " O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love! What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, What a beautiful Pussy you are! " 1 El< Trr Pussy said to the Owl, " You elegant fowl! The How wonderful sweet you sing ! AbnOh let us be married, too long we have tarried, The !L g ut what shall we do for a ring? ' ' ^hey sailed away for a year and a day To the land where the Bong- tree grows, OLD F^i there in a wood, a piggy- wig stood Robert of With a ring in the end of his nose, Casablanca His nose, Li , VC ith a ring in the end of his nose. The Burial 01 Sheridan's Ric Charge of the : , are you willing to sell for one shilling ^r ring? ' ' Said the piggy, ' ' I will . ' ' LIGHTS j. oo k ^ away, and were married next day the turkey who lives on the hill. 16 Poems For Memorizing They dined upon mince and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon, And hand in hand on the edge of the saiad They danced by the light of the moon, The moon, They danced by the light of the moon . Edward Lear. THE CLOUD. What are you doing, little white cloud, Up in the heavens, sailing so proud! Helping my brothers here in the blue Hide the hot sunshine, baby, from you. Where are you going, flying so slow, White cloud so lazy, I'd like to know? Gathering raindrops out of the air, For the poor flowers, dying down there. When will you scatter some of the showers, You have been saving, down to the flowers? Where the Lord sends me, always I roam, When the Lord bids me, baby, I'll come. Author not known. 17 Poems For Memorizing LITTLE BY LITTLE. One step and then another, And the longest walk is ended; One stitch, and then another, And the largest rent is mended; Ome brick upon another, And the highest wall is made; One flake upon another, And the deepest snow is laid. Then do not look disheartened O'er the work you have to do, And say that such a mighty task You never can get through; But just endeavor, day by day, Another point to gain, And soon the mountain which you feared Will prove to be a plain. Author not known. CHILDREN. Come to me, O ye children! For I hear you at your play, And the questions that perplexed me Have vanished quite away. 18 Poems For Memorizing Ye open the eastern windows, That look towards the sun, Where thoughts are singing swallows And the brooks of morning run. In your hearts are the birds and the sunshine, In your thoughts the brooklet's flow, But in mine is the wind of Autumn And the first fall of the snow. Ah, what would the world be to us If the children were no more? We should dread the desert behind us Worse than the dark before. What the leaves are to the forest, With light and air for food, Ere their sweet and tender juices Have been hardened into wood, That to the world are children; Through them it feels the glow Of a brighter and sunnier climate Than reaches the trunks below. Come to me, O ye children! And whisper in my ear What the birds and the winds are singing In your sunny atmosphere. 19 Poems For Memorizing For what are all our contrivings, And the wisdom of our books, When compared with your .-aresses, And the gladness of your looks? Ye are better than all the ballads That ever were sung or said ; For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead. Longfellow. THE LITTLE LAZY CLOUD. A pretty little cloud away up in the sky, Said it did not care if the earth was dry ; 'Twas having such a nice time sailing all around, It wouldn't, no, it wouldn't tumble on the ground. So the pretty little lilies hung their aching heads , And the golden pansies cuddled in their beds; The cherries couldn't grow a bit, you would have pitied them; They'd hardly strength to hold to the little slender stem. By and by the little cloud felt a dreadful shock, Just as does a boat when it hits upon a rock. Something ran all through it, burning like a flame, And the little cloud began to cry as down to earth it came. 20 Poems \ For Memorizing Then old Grandpa Thunder, as he growled away, Said, " I thought I'd make yon mind 'fore another day; Little clouds were meant to fall when the earth is dry, And not go sailing round away up in the sky." And old Grandma Lightning, flitting to and fro, Said, " What were you made for, I would like to know, That you spend your precious time sailing all around, When you know you ought to be buried in the ground." Then lilies dear, and pansies, all began to bloom, And the cherries grew and grew till they took up all the room. Then by and by the little cloud, with all its duty done, Was caught up by a rainbow and allowed a little fun. Author not known. SWEET BABY, SLEEP. Sweet baby, sleep ! what ails my dear? What ails my darling, thus to cry? Be still, my child, and lend thine ear, To hear me sing thy lullaby. My pretty lamb, forbear to weep; Be still, my dear; sweet babj r , sleep. Sweet baby, sleep, and nothing fear; For whosoever thee offends By thy protector threatened are, And God and Angels are thy friends. Sweet baby, then forbear to weep; Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep. 21 Poems For Memorizing When God with us was dwelling here, In little babes he took delight; Such innocence as thou, my dear, Are ever precious in His sight. Sweet baby, then forbear to weep; Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep. Author not known. MY GOOD-FOR-NOTHING. What are you good for, my brave little man? Answer that question for me, if you can, You, with your fiugers as white as a nun, You, with your ringlets as bright as the sun. All the day long, with your busy contriving, Into all mischief and fun you are driving; See if your wise little noddle can tell What you are good for. Now ponder it well." Over the carpet the dear little feet Came with a patter to climb on my seat; Two merry eyes, full of frolic and glee, Under their lashes looked up unto me ; Two little hands, pressing soft on my face, Drew me down close in a loving embrace ; Two rosy lips gave the answer so true, Good to love you, mamma, good to love you." Emily Huntington Miller. 22 Poems For Memorizing RUNAWAY BROOK. " Stop, stop, pretty water!" Said Mary one day. To a frolicsome brook, That was running away. ' You run on so fast! I wish you would stay; My boat and my flowers You will carry away. ' But I will ran after : Mother says that I may; For I would know where You are running away." So Mary ran on; But I have heard say, That she never could find Where the brook ran away. Eliza Follen. THE BABY. Where did you come from, baby dear? Out of the everywhere into here . Where did you get your eyes so blue? Out of the sky as I came through. 23 Poems For Memorizing What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? Some of the starry spikes left in. Where did you get that little tear? I found it waiting when I got here. What makes your forehead so smooth and high? A soft hand stroked it as I went by. What makes your cheek like a warm, white rose? I saw something better than any one knows. Whence that three-corner 'd smile of bliss? Three angels gave me at once a kiss. Where did you get this pearly ear? God spoke, and it came out to hear. Where did you get those arms and hands? Love made itself into hooks and bands. Feet, whence did you come, you darling things? From the same box as the cherubs' wings. How did they all come just to be you? God thought of me and so I grew. But how did you come to us, you dear? God thought of you, and so I am here. George Macdonald. Poems For Memorizing MY SHADOW. I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me, And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head; And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed. He has n't got a notion of how children ought to play, And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see; I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks tome. One morning, very early, before the sun was up, I rose and found the dew on every buttercup ; But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant, sleepy head; Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed. Stevenson. SLEEP, BABY, SLEEP. (Cradle Song.) Sleep, baby, sleep! Thy father's watching the sheep; Thy mother's shaking the dreamland tree, And down drops a little dream for thee. Sleep, baby, sleep! 25 Poems For Memorizing Sleep, baby, sleep! The large stars are the sheep; The little stars are the lambs, I guess, The bright moon is the shepherdess. Sleep, babj, sleep! Sleep, baby, sleep! And cry not like a sheep ! Else the sheep-dog will bark and whine, And bite this naughty child of mine. Sleep, baby, sleep! Sleep, baby, sleep! Thy Savior loves His sheep; He is the Lamb of God on High, Who for our sakes came down to die. Sleep, baby, sleep! Sleep, baby, sleep! Away to tend the sheep, Away, thou sheep-dog fierce and wild, And do not harm my sleeping child! Sleep, baby, sleep! Elizabeth Prentiss. (From the German.) 26 Poems For Memorizing THREE LITTLE BUGS IN A BASKET. Three little bugs in a basket, And hardly room for two ; And one was yellow, and one was black, And one like me or you ; The space was small, no doubt, for all, So what should the three bugs do? Three little bugs in a basket, And hardly crumbs for two; And all were selfish in their hearts, The same as I or you. So the strong one said, " We will eat the bread, And that's what we will do! " Three little bugs in a basket, And the beds but two could hold; And so they fell to quarreling The white, the black, and the gold And two of the bugs got under the rugs, And one was out in the cold. He that was left in the basket, Without a crumb to chew, Or a shred to wrap himself withal, When the wind across him blew, Pulled one of the rugs from one of the bugs, And so the quarrel grew. 27 Poems For Memorizing So there was war in the basket ; Ah! pity 'tis, 'tis true! But he that was frozen and starved, at last A strength from his weakness drew, And pulled the rugs from both the bugs, And killed and ate them, too! Now when bugs live in a basket, Though more than it well can hold, It seems to me they had better agree The black, the white, and the gold And share what comes of beds and crumbs, And leave no bag in the cold. Alice Cary. 28 SECOND GRADE. BAREFOOT BOY. (First ten lines.) Blessings on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheeks of tan! With thy turned up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tunes ; With thy red lip, redder still Kissed by strawberries on the hill ; 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. THE BOY AND THE BIRD. Who taught you to sing My sweet, pretty bird? Who tuned your melodious throat? You make all the hills and valleys to ring; You bring the first news of the earliest spring With your loud and silvery note. 29 Poems For Memorizing " It was God," said the lark, As he rose from the earth ; " He gives us the good we enjoy; He painted our wings, he gave us our voice, He gives us our food and bids us rejoice, Good morning, my beautiful boy." Author not known. RAIN-DROPS. Some little drops of water, Whose home was in the sea, To go upon a journey Once happened to agree. A cloud they had for carriage, They drove a playful breeze, And over town and country, They rode along with ease. But, oh! there were so many, At last the carriage broke ; And to the ground came tumbling Those frightened little folk. Through the moss and grasses, They were compelled to roam Until a brooklet found them, And carried them all home. Author not known. 30 Poems For Memorizing SEVEX TIMES ONE. There's no dew left on the daisies and clover, There's no rain left in heaven: I've said my " seven times " over and over, Seven times one are seven. I am old, so old I can write a letter; My birthday lessons are done ; The lambs play always, they know no better, They are only one times one. Moon! in the night I have seen you sailing And shining so round and low; You were bright, ah bright! but your light is failing, You are nothing now but a bow. You Moon, have you done something wrong in heaven, That God has hidden your face ? 1 hope if you have, you will soon be forgiven, And shine again in your place. O velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow; You've powdered your legs with gold! O brave niarshniary buds, rich and yellow, Give me your money to hold ! O columbine, open your folded wrapper, Where two twin turtle-doves dwell! cuckoo- pint, toll me the purple clapper That hangs in your clear green bell ! 31 Poems For Memorizing And show me your nest, with the young ones in it, I will not steal it away; I am old! you may trust me, linnet, linnet, I am seven times one to-day. Jean Ingelow. TWO AND ONE. Two ears and only one mouth have you; The reason, I think, is clear: It teaches, my child, that it will not do To talk about all you hear. Two eyes and only one mouth have you; The reason for this must be, That you should learn that it will not do To talk about all you see. Two hands and only one mouth have you; And it is worth while repeating: The two are for work you will have to do The one is enough for eating. Author not known. 32 Poems For Memorizing THE NEW MOON. Dear mother, how pretty The moon looks to-night ! She was never so cunning before ; Her two little horns Are so sharp and bright, I hope she'll not grow any more. If I were up there With you and my friends, I'd rock in it nicely, you'd see; I'd sit in the middle And hold by both ends; Oh, what a bright candle 'twould be! I would call to the stars To keep out of the way, Lest we should rock over their toes; And then I would rock Till the dawn of the day, And see where the pretty moon goes. And there we would stay In the beautiful skies, And through the bright clouds we would roam ; We would see the sun set, And see the sun rise, And in the next rainbow come home. Mrs. Eliza Lee Follen. 33 Poems For Memorizing TWINKLE. TWINKLE, LITTLE STAR. Twinkle, twinkle, little star; How I wonder what you are ! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky. When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. Then the traveler in the dark Thanks you for your tiny spark ; He could not see which way to go, If you did not twinkle so. In the dark blue sky you keep, Yet often through my window peep ; For you never shut your eye, Till the sun is in the sky. As your bright but tiny spark Lights the traveler in the dark, Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star. Jane Taylor. 34 Poems For Memorizing IF I WERE A SUNBEAM. If I were a sunbeam, Tknow what I'd do: I would seek white lilies Rainy woodlands through: I would steal among them, Softest light I'd shed, Until every lily Raised its drooping head. If I were a sunbeam, I know where I'd go: Into lowliest hovels, Dark with want and woe: Till sad hearts looked upward, I would shine and shine ; Then they'd think of heaven, Their sweet home and mine." Art thou not a sunbeam, Child whose life is glad With an inner radiance Sunshine never had'? Oh, as God has blessed thee, Scatter rays divine! For there is no sunbeam But must die, or shine. Lucy Larcom. 35 Poems For Memorizing LULLABY. Over the cradle the mother hung, Softly crooning a slumber song: And these were the simple words she sung All the evening long: Cheek or chin, or knuckle or knee Where shall the baby's dimple bef Where shall the angel's finger rest When he comes down to the baby's nest? Where shall the angel's touch remain When he awakens my babe again?" Still as she bent and sang so low, A murmur into her music broke : And she paused to hear, for she could but know The baby's angel spoke. Cheek or chin, or knuckle or knee, Where shall the baby's dimple be? Where shall my finger fall and rest When I come down to the baby's nest? Where shall my finger touch remain When I awaken your babe again?" Silent the mother sat and dwelt Long in the sweet delay of choice And then by her baby's side she knelt, And sang with a pleasant voice : 36 Poems For Memorizing Not on the limb, O angel dear! For the charm with its youth will disappear; Not on the cheek shall the dimple be, For the harboring smile will fade and flee ; But touch thou the chin with an impress deep, And my baby the angel's seal shall keep." J. G. Holland. ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL. All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, All things wise and wonderful, The Lord God made them all. Each little flower that opens , Each little bird that sings, He made their glowing colors, He made their tiny wings The purple-headed mountain, The river running by, The morning, and the sunset That lighteth up the sky. The tall trees in the greenwood, The pleasant summer sun, The ripe fruits in the garden, He made them every one. 37 Poems For Memorizing He gave us eyes to see them, And lips that we might tell, How great is God Almighty, Who hath made all things well. Mrs. C. F. Alexander. DO ALL THAT YOU CAN. I cannot do much," said a little star, " To make this dark world bright; My silvery beams cannot pierce far Into the gloom of night; Yet I am a part of God's great plan, And so I will do the best that I can." What can be the use," said a fleecy cloud, " Of these few drops that I hold? They will hardly bend the lily proud, If caught in her chalice of gold; But I, too, am a part of God's great plan, So my treasures I '11 give as well as I can." A child went merrily forth to play, But a thought, like a silver thread, Kept winding in and out all day Through the happy golden head: Mother said, " Darling, do all that you can, For you are a part of God's great plan." Mrs. M. E. Sangster. 38 Poems For Memorizing A LULLABY. Sleep, my little one, where you float On the Dreamland Sea in the Dreamland Boat; But where is that sea and whither you go, Ah, who is so wise that he ever may know ? There the sails of the voyager onward are fanned By the lullaby breezes from Hushabyland, And the boat is a cradle that swings to and fro, But whither it bears you, ah, none of us know. Sleep, my little one. None may know Whither the Dreamboat saileth, But One heedeth ever wherever you go, And His is a love never faileth. Sleep, my little one, sleep and dream As you float, float away on the wonderful stream That leads to the land where the white angels be, Which I, in my blindness, no longer may see. There the Angel of Love and the Angel of Rest Shall cuddle my bairuie so close to the breast That only the thought of the mother and me Could bring you safe home again over the sea. Sleep, my little one, sleep and smile, Floating, ah, none may know whither; You shall sail back again after a while, Guided by angel hands hither. A. J. Waterhouse. 39 Poetti* For Memorizing LITTLE RAIN-DROPS. Oh, where do you come from, You little drops of rain, Pitter-patter, pitter-patter Down the window-pane? They say I 'm very naughty, But I 've nothing else to do, But sit here at the window; I should like to play with you. Tell me, little rain-drops, Is that the way you play, Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, All the rainy day? The little rain-drops cannot speak, But " Pitter-patter, pat" Means, " We can play on this side; Why can 't you play on that?" Author Unknown. 40 THIRD GRADE. THE BROWN THRUSH. There's a merry brown thrush sitting up in the tree He's singing to me! He's singing to me! " And what does he say, little girl, little boy? Oh, the world's running over with joy! Don't you hear? Don't you see? Hush! Look! In my tree, I'm as happy as happy can be! " And the brown thrush keeps singing, " A nest do you see, And five eggs hid by me in the juniper tree? Don't meddle! Don't touch! little girl, little boy, Or the world will lose some of its joy! Now I'm glad! Now I'm free! And I always shall be, If you never bring sorrow to me." So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree, To you and to me, to you and to me: And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy, Oh, the world's running over with joy! But long it won't be, Don't you know? don't you see? Unless we are as good as can be ! " Lucy Larcom. 41 Poems For Memorizing THE WONDERFUL WORLD. Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world, With the beautiful water round you curled, And the wonderful grass upon your breast World, you are beautifully dressed! The wonderful air is over me, And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree ; It walks on the water, and whirls the mills, And talks to itself on the tops of the hills. You friendly earth, how far do you go! With the wheat-fields that nod, and the rivers that flow, And cities and gardens, and cliffs and isles, And people upon you for thousands of miles? Ah, you are so great, and I am so small, I hardly can think of you, world, at all; And yet, when I said my prayers today, A whisper within me seemed to say, You are more than the earth, though you are but a dot; You can love and think, and the earth cannot." Chas. H. Browne. 42 Poems For Memorizing IS IT YOU? There is a child a boy or girl I'm sorry it is true Who doesn't mind when spoken to; Is it? It isn't you! Oh, no, it can't be you! I know a child a boy or girl I'm loath to say I do Who struck a little playmate once ; Was it? It wasn't you! I hope it wasn't you! I know a child a boy or girl I hope that such are few Who told a lie; yes, told a lie! Was it? It wasn't you! It cannot be 'twas you! There is a boy I know a boy I cannot love him, though Who robs the little birdie's nests; Is it? It can't be you! That bad boy can't be you! A girl there is a girl I know And I would love her, too, But that she is so proud and vain; Is it? It can't be you! That surely isn't you! Author not known. 43 Poems For Memorizing BY-AND-BY. There's a little mischief-making Elfin, who is ever nigh, Thwarting every undertaking; And his name is By-and-by. What we ought to do this minute, " Will be better done," he'll cry, " If to-morrow we begin it." " Put it off," says By-and-by. Those who heed the treacherous wooing Will his faithless guidance rue; What we always put off doing, Clearly we shall never do. We shall reach what we endeavor If on Now we more rely ; But unto the realms of never Leads the pilot By-and-by. Author not known. 44 Poems For Memorizing I ONCE HAD A SWEET LITTLE DOLL. I once had a sweet little doll, dears, The prettiest doll in the world; Her cheeks were so red and so white, dears, And her hair was so charmingly curled. But I lost nay poor little doll, dears, As I played on the heath one day; And I cried for her more than a week, dears, But I never could find where she lay. I found my poor little doll, dears, As I played on the heath one day; Folks say she is terribly changed, dears, For her paint is all washed away ; And her arm trodden off by the cows, dears, And her hair not the least bit curled; Yet for old sake's sake, she is still, dears, The prettiest doll in the world. Charles Kingsley. THE BROOK. I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down the valley. 45 Poems For Memorizing By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river; For men may come, and men may go, But I go on forever. I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles; I bubble into eddying bays ; I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my bank I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow- weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come, and men may go, But I go on forever. I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling, 46 Poems For Memorizing And here and there a foamy flake Upon me as I travel, With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel, And draw them all along and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come, and men may go But I go on forever. I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers, I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses ; I linger by my shingly bars; I loiter round my cresses ; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come, and men may go But I go on forever. Tennyson. 47 Poems For Memorizing THE DANDELION. Bright little dandelion, Downy, yellow face, Peeping up among the grass With snch gentle grace; Minding not the April wind Blowing rude and cold, Brave little dandelion With a heart of gold. Meek little dandelion Changing into curls At the magic touch of these Merry boys and girls. When they pinch thy dainty throat, Strip thy dress of green, On thy soft and gentle face Not a cloud is seen. Poor little dandelion, Now all gone to seed, Scattered roughly by the wind Like a common weed. Thou hast lived thy little life Smiling every day ; Who could do a better thing In a better way. Author not known. 48 Poems For Memorizing IF EVER I SEE. If ever I see, On bush or tree, Young birds in their pretty nest, I must not, in play, Steal the birds away, To grieve their mother's breast. My mother, I know, Would sorrow so, Should I be stolen away ; So I'll speak to the birds In my softest words Nor hurt them in my play. And when they can fly In the bright blue sky, They'll warble a song to me; And then if I'm sad It will make me glad To think they are happy and free. Lydia Maria Child. 49 Poems For Memorizing DRIVE THE NAIL ARIGHT. Drive the nail aright, Hit it on the head; Strike with all your might, While the iron's red. When you've work to do Do it with a will; They who reach the top, First must climb the hill. Standing at the foot, Gazing at the sky How can you get up, If you never try. Though you stumble oft Never be downcast Try and try again You'll succeed at last. 50 Poems For Memorizing JACK IN THE PULPIT. Jack in the pulpit Preaches today, Under the green trees Just over the way. Squirrel and song-sparrow, High on their perch, Hear the sweet lily-belts Ringing to church. Come, hear what his reverence Rises to say, In his low painted pulpit This calm Sabbath-day. Fair is the canopy Over him seen, Penciled by Nature's hand, Black, brown, and green. Green is his surplice, Green are his bands ; In his queer little pulpit The little priest stands. In black and gold velvet, So gorgeous to see, Comes with his bass voice The chorister bee. Green fingers playing Unseen on wind-lyres, Low singing bird voices, These are his choirs. The violets are deacons I know by the sign That the cups which they carry Are purple with wine. 51 Poems For Memorizing And "tfee columbines bravely As sentinels stand On the look-out with all their Red trumpets in hand. Meek-faced anemones, Drooping and sad; Great yellow violets, Smiling out glad; Buttercup's faces, Beaming and bright; Clovers, with bonnets, Some red and some white ; Daisies, their white fingers Half-clasped in prayer; Dandelions, proud of The gold of their hair; Innocents, children Guileless and frail. Meek little faces Upturned and pale ; Wild- wood geraniums, All in their best, Languidly leaning In purple gauze dressed: All are assembled This sweet Sabbath-day To hear what the priest In his pulpit will say. Clara Smith. 62 Poems For Memorizing LITTLE BROWN HANDS. They drive home the cows from the pasture, Up through the long shady lane, Where the quail whistles loud in the wheat-fields, That are yellow with ripening grain. They find, in the thick waving grasses, Where the scarlet-lipped strawberry grows. They gather the earliest snowdrops, And the first crimson buds of the rose. They toss the new hay in the meadow; They gather the elder-bloom white ; They find where the dusky grapes purple In the soft-tinted October light. They know where the apples hand ripest, And are sweeter than Italy's wines; They know where the fruit hangs the thickest On the long, thorny blackberry- vines. * They gather the delicate sea- weeds, And build tiny castles of sand; They pick up the beautiful sea- shells, Fairy barks that have drifted to land. They wave from the tall, rocking tree- tops Where the oriole's hammock-nest swings; And at night-time are folded in slumber By a song that a fond mother sings- 53 Poems For Memorizing Those who toil bravely are strongest ; The humble and poor become great; And so from these brown- handed children Shall grow mighty rulers of state. The pen of the author and statesman, The noble and wise of the land, The sword, and the chisel, and palette, Shall be held in the little brown hand. M. H. Krout SUPPOSE. Suppose the little cowslip Should hang its golden cup, And say, " I'm such a tiny flower, I'd better not grow up " ; How many a weary traveler Would miss its fragrant smell, And many a little child would grieve To lose it from the dell. Suppose the little breezes, Upon a summer's day, Should think themselves too small To cool the traveler on his way; Who would not miss the smallest And softest ones that blow, And think they made a great mistake, If they were talking so ! 54 Poems For Memorizing Suppose the little dewdrop Upon the grass should say, What can a little dewdrop do? I'd better roll away." The blade on which it rested, Before the day was done, Without a drop to moisten it, Would wither in the sun. How many deeds of kindness A little child can do, Although it has but little strength, And little wisdom, too! It wants a loving spirit, Much more than strength, to prove How many things a child may do For others by its love. Author not known. AMERICA. My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrims' pride, From ev'ry mountain side Let freedom ring. 55 Poems For Memorizing My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love ; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods'and templed hills; My heart with rapture thrills Like that above. Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song; Let mortal tongues awake ; Let all that breathe partake ; Let rocks their silence break, The sound prolong. Our fathers' God, to Thee, Author of Liberty, To Thee we sing; Long may our land be bright With freedom's holy light; Protect us by Thy might, Great God, Our King. Samuel F. Smith. DON'T GIVE UP. If you 've tried and have not won, Never stop for crying; All that's great and good is done Just by patient trying. 56 Poems For Memorizing Though young birds, in flying, fall, Still their wings grow stronger; And the next time they can keep Up a little longer. Though the sturdy oak has known Many a blast that bowed her, She has risen again, and grown Loftier and prouder. If by easy work you beat, Who the more will prize you? Gaining victory from defeat, That's the test that tries you! Phosbe Gary. 57 FOURTH GRADE. THE HAPPIEST HEART. Who drives the horses of the sun Shall lord it but a day; Better the lowly deed were done And kept the humble way. The rust will find the sword of fame The dust will hide the crown ; Ay, none shall nail so high his name Time will not tear it down. The happiest heart that ever beat Was in some quiet breast, That found the common daylight sweet And left to heaven the rest. John Vance Cheney. SOMETHING LEFT UNDONE. Labor with what zeal we will, Something still remains undone, Something uncompleted still Waits the rising of the sun. 58 Poems For Memorizing By the bedside, on the stair, At the threshold, near the gates, With its menace or its prayer, Like a mendicant it waits; Waits, and will not go away; Waits, and will not be gainsaid; By the cares of yesterday Each today is heavier made; Till at length the burden seems Greater than our strength can bear, Heavy as the weight of dreams, Pressing on us everywhere. And we stand from day to day, Like the dwarfs of times gone by, Who, as Northern legends say, On their shoulders held the sky. Longfellow. SUPPOSE, MY LITTLE LADY, Suppose, my little lady, Your doll should break her head; Could you make it whole by crying Till your eyes and nose are red? 69 Poems For Memorizing And wouldn't it be pleasanter To treat it as a joke, And say you're glad 'twas Dolly's, And not your head, that broke? Suppose you're dressed for walking, And the rain comes pouring down; Will it clear off any sooner Because you scold and frown? And wouldn't it be nicer For you to sniile than pout, And so make sunshine in the house When there is none without? Suppose your task, my little man, Is very hard to get; Will it make it any easier For you to sit and fret? And wouldn't it be wiser, Than waiting like a dunce, To go to work in earnest, And learn the thing at once? Phoebe Cary. 60 Poems For Memorizing BOYS WANTED. Boys of spirit, boys of will, Boys of muscle, brain, and power, Fit to cope with anything, These are wanted every hour. Not the weak and whining drones Who all troubles magnify; Not the watchword of " I can't," But the nobler one, " I'll try." Do whate'er you have to do With a true and earnest zeal ; Bend your sinews to the task, " Put your shoulder to the wheel." Though your duty may be hard, Look not on it as an ill; If it be an honest task, Do it with an honest will. In the workshop, on the farm, Or wherever you may be, Prom your future efforts, boys, Comes a nation's destiny. Author not known. 61 Poems For Memorizing THE FOUNTAIN. Into the sunshine, Full of the light Leaping and flashing From morn till night; Into the moonlight, Whiter than snow, Waving so flowerlike When the winds blow; Into the starlight Rushing in spray, Happy at midnight, Happy by day; Ever in motion, Blithesome and cheery, Still climbing heavenward, Never aweary; Glad of all weathers, Still seeming best, Upward or downward Motion thy rest; Full of a nature Nothing can tame, Changed every moment Ever the same; 62 Poems For Memorizing Ceaseless aspiring, Ceaseless content, Darkness or sunshine Thy element; Glorious fountain, Let my heart be Fresh, changeful, constant, Upward, like thee! Lowell. THREE COMPANIONS. We go on our walk together Baby, and dog, and I Three little merry companions 'Neath any sort of sky; Blue, as our baby's eyes are, Gray, like our old dog's tail; Be it windy, or cloudy, or stormy, Our courage will never fail. Baby's a little lady; Dog is a gentleman brave ; If he had two legs as you have, He'd kneel to her like a slave; As it is he loves and protects her, As dog and gentleman can. I'd rather be a kind doggie, I think, than a cruel man. Dinah Muloch-Craik. 63 Poems for Memorizing A LIFE LESSON. There! little girl; don't cry! They have broken your doll, I know; And your tea-set blue. And your play-house, too, Are things of the long ago; But childish troubles will soon pass by. There! little girl; don't cry! There! little girl; don't cry! They have broken your slate, I know; And the glad, wild ways Of your school -girl days Are things of the long ago; But life and love will soon come by. There! little girl; don't cry! There! little girl; don't cry! They have broken your heart. I know; And the rainbow gleams Of your youthful dreams Are thing of the long ago ; But heaven holds all for which you sigh. There! little girl; don't cry! James Whitcomb Riley. 64 Poems For Memorizing THE FIFTIETH BIRTHDAY OF AGASSIZ. It was fifty years ago In the pleasant month of May, In the beautiful Pays de Vaud, A child in its cradle lay. And Nature, the old nurse, took The child upon her knee, Saying: " Here is a story-book Thy Father has written for thee." " Come, wander with me," she said, " Into regions yet untrod; And read what is still unread In the manuscripts of God." And he wandered away and away With Nature, the dear old nurse, Who sang to him night and day The rhymes of the universe. And whenever the way seemed long, Or his heart began to fail, She would sing a more wonderful song, Or tell a more marvelous tale. So she keeps him still a child, And will not let him go. Though at times his heart beats wild For the beautiful Pays de Vaud; 65 Poems For Memorizing Though at times he hears in his dreams The Ranz des Vaches of. old, And the rush of mountain streams From glaciers clear and cold; And the mother at home says, " Hark! For his voice I listen and yearn; It is growing late and dark, And my boy does not return ! ' ; Longfellow. THE SCULPTOR. Chisel in hand stood a sculptor-boy With his marble block before him, And his face lit up with a smile of joy As an angel- dream passed o'er him; He carved the dream on that shapeless stone With many a sharp incision; With heaven's own light the sculpture shone; He had caught that angel- vision. Sculptors of life are we, as we stand With our souls uncarved before us, Waiting the hour when, at God's command, Our life-dream shall pass o'er us. If we carve it then on the yielding stone With many a sharp incision, Its heavenly beauty shall be our own ; Our lives that angel- vision. Bishop Doane. GO Poems For Memorizing ANOTHER BLUE DAT. So, here hath been dawning Another blue day; Think, wilt thou let it Slip useless away? Out of Eternity This new Day is born Into Eternity At night will return. Behold it aforetime No eye ever did; So soon it forever From all eyes is hid. Here hath been dawning Another blue day; Think, wilt thou let it Slip useless away? Thomas Carlyle. 67 Poems For Memorizing THE BAREFOOT BOY. Blessings on thee, little man, Barefoot boy with cheeks of tan ! With thy turned up pantaloons And thy merry whistled tunes; With thy red lip, redder still, Kissed by strawberries on the hill ; 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 ! O for boyhood's painless play, Sleep that wakes in laughing day, Health that mocks the doctor's rules, Knowledge never learned in schools, Of the wild bee's morning chase, Of the wild flower's time and place, How the tortoise bears his shell, How the woodchuck digs his cell, How the robin feeds her young, How the oriole's nest is hung, Where the whitest lilies blow, Where the freshest berries grow, Where the ground-nut trails its vine, Where the wood- grape's clusters shine, Of the black wasp's cunning way, Mason of his walls of clay. 68 Poems For Memorizing for boyhood's time of June, Crowding years in one brief moon, When all things I heard or saw Me, their master, waited for! 1 was rich in flowers and trees, Humming-birds and honey-bees ; For my sport the squirrel played, Plied the snouted mole his spade. 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, Mine the walnut slopes beyond, Mine on bending orchard trees, Apples of Hesperides. I was monarch : pomp and joy Waited on the barefoot boy! Whittier. A NIGHT WITH A WOLF. Little one, come to my knee! Hark how the rain is pouring Over the roof, in the pitch-black night, And the wind in the woods a-roaring! C9 Poems For Memorizing Hush, my darling, and listen, Then pay for the story with kisses : Father was lost in the .pitch-black night, In just such a storm as this is ! High up on the lonely mountains, Where the wild men watched and waited; Wolves in the forest, and bears in the brush, And I on my path belated. The rain and the night together Came down, and the wind came after, Bending the props of the pine-tree roof, And snapping many a rafter. I crept along in the darkness, Stunned, and bruised, and blinded Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs, And a sheltering rock behind it There, from the blowing and raining, Crouching, I sought to hide me: Something rustled, two green eyes shone, And a wolf lay down beside me. Little one, be not frightened: I and the wolf together, Side by side, through the long, long night Hid from the awful weather. 70 Poems For Memorizing His wet fur pressed against me; Each of us warmed the other; Each of us felt, in the stormy dark, That beast and man was brother. And when the falling forest No longer crashed in warning, Each of us went from our hiding-place Forth in the wild, wet morning. Darling, kiss me in payment! Hark, how the wind is roaring; Father's house is a better place When the stormy rain is pouring! - -Bayard Taylor. THE GOOD TIME COMING. There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: We may not live to see the day, But earth shall glisten in the ray Of the good time coming. Cannon balls may aid the truth, But thought's a weapon stronger; We'll win the battle by its aid Wait a little longer. 71 Poems For Memorizing There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming : The pen shall supersede the sword, And Right, not Might, shall be the lord, In the good time coming. Worth, not Birth, shall rule mankind, And be acknowledged stronger : The proper impulse has been given; Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: War in all men's eyes shall be A monster of iniquity In the good time coming. Nations shall not quarrel then, To prove which is the stronger; Nor slaughter men for glory's sake; Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: Hateful rivalries of creed Shall not make their martyrs bleed In the good time coming. Religion shall be shorn of pride, And flourish all the stronger ; And Charity shall trim her lamp ; Wait a little longer. 72 Poems For Memorizing There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: The people shall be temperate, And shall love instead of hate, In the good time coming. They shall use, and not abuse, And make all virtue stronger: The reformation has begun; Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming: Let us aid it all we can Every woman, every man The good time coining. Smallest helps, if rightly given, Make the impulse stronger; 'Twill be strong enough one day; Wait a little longer. Chas. Mackay. THE BROOK AND THE WAVE. The brooklet came from the mountain, As sang the bard of old, Running with feet of silver Over the sands of gold! T6 Poems For Memorizing Far away in the briny ocean There rolled a turbulent wave, Now singing along the sea-beach, Now howling along the cave. And the brooklet has found the billow, Though they flowed so far apart, And has filled with its freshness and sweetness That turbulent, bitter heart! Longfellow. 74 FIFTH GRADE. LOVE OF COUNTRY. Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand? If, such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim; Despite those titles, power, and pelf. The wretch, concentered all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung. Walter Scott. 75 Poems For Memorizing THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. Under a spreading chestnut- tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long; His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat ; He earns whatever he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man. Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge With measured beat and slow, Like the sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. And children coining home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing floor. 76 Poems For Memorizing He goes on Sunday to the church, And sits among his boys; He hears the parson pray and preach, He hears his daughter's voice Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. 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. Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begun, 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 has taught ! Thus, at the naming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus, on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought. Longfellow. Poems For Memorizing BREAK, BREAK, BREAK. Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a vanished hand And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O, Sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me. Tennyson. Poems For Memorizing THE VICAR'S SERMON. Whatsoe'r you find to do, Do it, boys, with all your might: Never be a little true, Or a little in the right. Trifles even lead to heaven ; Trifles make the life of man : So in all things, great and small things, Be as thorough as you can. Let no speck their surface dim, Spotless truth and honor bright; I'd not give a fig for him Who says that any lie is white! He who falters, twists or alters Little atoms when we speak, May deceive me, but, believe me, To himself he is a sneak. Help the weak if you are strong; Love the old if you are young ; Own a fault if you are wrong ; If you're angry, hold your tongue. In each duty there's a beauty, If your eyes you do not shut, Just as surely and securely As a kernel in a nut. 79 Poems For Memorizing Love with all your heart and soul, Love with eye and ear and touch That's the moral of the whole: You can never love too much ! 'Tis the glory of the story In our babyhood begun ; Hearts without it, never doubt it, Are as worlds without a sun. If you think a word will please, Say it, if it is but true; Words may give delight with ease When no act is asked from you. Words may often soothe and soften Gild a joy and heal a pain; They are treasures yielding pleasures It is wicked to retain. Charles Mackay. THE THREE FISHERS. Three fishers went sailing away to the west Away to the west as the sun went down, Each thought on the woman who loved him the best, And the children stood watching them out of the town ; For men must work, and women must weep; And there's little to earn, and many to keep, Though the harbor bar be moaning. 80 Poems For Memorizing Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower, And they trimmed the lamps as the sun went down; Thej looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower, And the night-rack came rolling up, ragged and brown; But men must work, and women must weep, Though storms be sudden, and waters deep, And the harbor bar be moaning. Three corpses lay out on the shining sands In the morning gleam as the tide went down, And the women are weeping and wringing their hands For those who will never come home to the town ; For men must work, and women must weep And the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep And good-bye to the bar and its moaning. Charles Kingsley. NOBILITY. True worth is in being, not seeming, In doing each day that goes by, Some little good, not in dreaming Of great things to do by and by. For, whatever men say in blindness, And in spite of the fancies of youth, There's nothing so kingly as kindness, And nothing so royal as truth. 81 Poems For Memorizing We get back our mete as we measure, We cannot do wrong and feel right, Nor can we give pain and feel pleasure, For justice avenges each slight. The air for the wing of the sparrow, The bush for the robin and wren, But always the path that is narrow And straight for the children of men. We cannot make bargains for blisses, Nor catch them like fishes in nets; And sometimes the thing our life misses Helps more than the thing that it gets. For good lieth not in pursuing, Nor gaining of great nor of small; But just in the doing, and doing As we would be done by, is all. Through envy, through malice, through hating > Against the world early and late No jot of our courage abating, Our part is to work and to wait. And slight is the sting of his trouble Whose winnings are less than his worth ; For he who is honest is noble, Whatever his fortune or birth. Alice Gary. 82 Poems For Memorizing THE ARROW AND THE SONG. I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I know not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the ah-, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song? Long, long afterwards, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend. Longfellow. THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. The breaking waves dashed high on a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky their giant branches tossed ; And the heavy night hung dark the hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark on the wild New England shore. 83 Poems For Memorizing Not as the conqueror comes, they, the true-hearted, came; Not with the roll of stirring drums, and the trumpet that sings of fame; Not as the flying come, in silence and in fear; They shook the depths of the desert gloom with their hymns of lofty cheer. Amidst the storm they sang, and the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang with the anthems of the free! The ocean eagle soared from his nest by the white wave's foam, And the rocking pines of the forest roared, this was their welcome home! There were men with hoary hair amiast that pilgrim band ; Why had they come to wither there away from their child- hood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, and the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? They sought a faith's pure shrine! Ay, call it holy ground, the soil where first they trod: They left unstained, what there they found, Freedom to worship God. Mrs Hemans. Poems For Memorizing HOW SLEEP THE BRAVE! How sleep the brave, who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mold, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there. William Collins. ONE BY ONE. One by one the sands are flowing, One by one the moments fall; Some are coming, some are going; Do not strive to catch them all. One by one thy duties wait thee ; Let thy whole strength go to each; Let no future dreams elate thee; Learn thou first what these can teach. 85 Poems For Memorizing One by one, bright gifts from heaven, Joys are sent thee here below; Take them readily when given, Ready, too, to let them go. One by one thy griefs shall meet thee; Do not fear an armed band; One will fade as others greet thee, Shadows passing through the land. Do not look at life's long sorrow; See how small each moment's pain; God will help thee for tomorrow Every day begins again. Every hour that fleets so slowly Has its task to do or bear; Luminous the crown and holy, If thou set each gem with care. Hours are golden links, God's token Reaching heaven; but one by one Take them, lest the chain be broken Ere thy pilgrimage be done. Adelaide A. Proctor. 86 Poems For Memorizing THE BUILDERS. All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low; Each thing in its place is best; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest For the structure that we raise, Time is with materials filled; Our todays and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build. Truly shape and fasten these ; Leave no yawning gaps between; Think not, because no man sees, Such things will remain unseen. In the elder days of art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part; For the Gods see everywhere. Let us do our work as wel! Both the unseen and the seen; Make the house where Gods may dwell Beautiful, entire, and clean. 87 Poems For Memorizing Else our lives are incomplete, Standing in these walls of Time, Broken stairways, where the feet Stumble as they seek to climb. Build today, then, strong and sure, With a firm and ample base ; And ascending and secure Shall tomorrow find its place. Thus alone can we attain To those turrets, where the eye Sees the world as one vast plain, And one boundless reach of sky. Longfellow . THE WILL AND THE WAY. It was a noble Roman, In Rome's imperial day, Who heard a coward croaker, Before the Castle say: They're safe in such a fortress; There is no way to shake it! " On on," exclaimed the hero, " I'll find a way, or make it!" 88 Poems For Memorizing Is Fame your aspiration? Her path is steep and high; In vain he seeks her temple, Content to gaze and sigh: The shining throne is waiting, Bur he alone can take it Who says, with Roman firmness, " I'll find a ivay, or make it!" Is Learning your ambition? There is no royal road; Alike the peer and peasant Must climb to her abode : Who feels the thirst of knowledge, In Helicon may slake it, If he has still the Roman will " To find a way, or make it!" John Gr. Saxe. MY BOOKS. Ah! well I love these books of mine, That stand so trimly on their shelves, With here and there a broken line (Fat " quartos " jostling modest " twelves ")r A curious company, I own; The poorest ranking with their betters; In brief, a thing almost unknown, A pure Democracy of Letters. 89 Poems For Memorizing A motley gathering are they, Some fairly worth their weight in gold; Some just too good to throw away; Some scarcely worth the place they hold. Yet well I love them, one and all, These friends so meek and unobtrusive, Who never fail to come at call, Nor (if I scold them) turn abusive! If I have favorites here and there, And, like a monarch, pick and choose, I never meet an angry stare That this I take and that refuse; No discords rise my soul to vex Among these peaceful book-relations. Nor envious strife of age or sex , To mar my quiet lucubrations. And they have still another merit, Which other where one vainly seeks, Whatever may be an author's spirit, He never uninvited speaks ; And should he prove a fool or clown, Unworth the precious time you're spending. How quickly you can " put him down," Or " shut him up," without offending! Here pleasing sight! the touchy brood Of critics from dissension cease ; And stranger still! no more at feud, Polemics smile, and keep the peace. 90 Poems For Memorizing See! side by side, all free from strife (Save what the heavy page may smother), The gentle " Christians " who in life, For conscience' sake, had burned each other! I call them friends, these quiet books; And well the title they may claim, Who always gives me cheerful looks; (What living friend has done the same!) And, for companionship, how few, As these, my cronies ever present, Of all the friends I ever knew Have been so useful and so pleasant? John G. Saxe. THE LIGHT THAT IS FELT. A tender child of summers three, Seeking her little bed at night, Paused on the dark stairway timidly. Oh, mother! Take my hand," said she And then the dark will all be light." We older children grope our way From dark behind to dark before ; And only when our hands we lay, Dear Lord, in Thine, the night is day, And there is darkness nevermore. 91 Poems For Memorizing Reach downward to the sunless days Wherein our guides are blind as we. And faith is small and hope delays; Take Thou the hands of prayer we raise, And let us feel the light of Thee! Whittier. DECORATION DAY. Sleep, comrades, sleep and rest On this Field of the Grounded Arms, Where foes no more molest, Nor sentry's shot alarms! Ye have slept on the ground before, And started to your feet At the cannon's sudden roar, Or the drum's redoubling beat. But in this camp of death No sound your slumber breaks ; Here is no fevered breath, No wound that bleeds and aches. All is repose and peace, Untrampled lies the sod ; The shouts of battle cease, It is the truce of God! 92 Poems For Memorizing Rest, comrades, rest and sleep! The thoughts of men shall be As sentinels to keep Your rest from danger free. Your silent tents of green We deck with fragrant flowers; Yours has the suffering been, The memorv shall be ours. Longfellow. SOMEBODY'S MOTHER. The woman was old and ragged and gray, And bent with the chill of a winter's day The street was wet with a recent snow, And the woman's feet was aged and slow; She stood at the crossing and waited long, Alone, uncared for, amid a throng. Past the woman so old and gray, Hastened some children on their way, Nor offered a helping hand to her, So meek, so timid, afraid to stir Lest the carriage wheels or horses' feet Should crowd her down in the slippery street. At last came one of the merry troop, The gayest, laddie of all the group ; He paused beside her and whispered low, I'll help you across, if you wish to go," 93 Poems For Memorizing Her aged hand on his strong young arm She placed; and so, without hurt or harm, He guided the trembling feet along, Proud that his own were firm and strong. Author unknown. THE HERITAGE. The rich man's son inherits lands, And piles of brick and stone, and gold, And he inherits soft white hands, And tender flesh that fears the cold, Nor dares to wear a garment old ; A heritage, it seems to me, One scarce would wish to hold in fee. The rich man's son inherits cares; The banks may break, the factory burn, A breath may burst his bubble shares, And soft white hands could hardly earn A living that would serve his turn; A heritage, it seems to me, One scarce would wish to hold in fee. The rich man's son inherits wants, His stomach craves for dainty fare; With sated heart, he hears the pants Of toiling hands with brown arms bare, And wearies in his easy-chair; A heritage, it seems to me, One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 94 Poems For Memorizing What doth the poor man's son inherit? Stout muscles and a sinewy heart, A hardy frame, a hardier spirit; King of two hands, he does his part In every useful toil and art ; A heritage, it seems to me, A king might wish to hold in fee. What doth the poor man's son inherit? Wishes o'erjoyed with humble things, A rank adjuged by toil- won merit, Content that from employment springs, A heart that in his labor sings ; A heritage, it seems to me, A king might wish to hold in fee. What doth the poor man's sou inherit? A patience learned of being poor, Courage, if sorrow come, to bear it, A fellow-feeling that is sure To make the outcast bless his door; A heritage, it seems to me A king might wish to hold in fee. O rich man's son! there is a toil That with all others level stands; Large charity doth never soil, But only whiten, soft white hands This is the best crop from thy lands, A heritage, it seems to me, Worth being rich to hold in fee. 95 Poems For Memorizing O poor man's son, scorn not thy state; There is worse weariness than thine, In merely being rich and great; Toil only gives the soul to shine, And makes rest fragrant and benign; A heritage, it seems to me, Worth being poor to hold in fee. heirs to some six feet of sod, Are equal in the earth at last ; Both, children of the same dear God, Prove title to your heirship vast By record of a well-filled past; A heritage, it seems to me, Well worth a life to hold in fee. Lowell. PSALM XXIII. 1. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2. He niaketh me lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. 3. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of right- eousness for His name's sake. 4. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. 5. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies : Thou anointest my head with oil ; my cup runneth over. 6. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life ; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. 96 SIXTH GRADE. THANKSGIVING HYMN FOR CALIFORNIA Our forefathers gave thanks to God In the land by the stormy sea, For bread hard wrung from the iron sod In cold and misery. Though every day meant toil and strife In the land by the stormy sea ; They thanked their God for the gift of life, How much the more should we ! Stern frost had they, full many a day. Strong ice on the stormy sea; Long months of snow, grey clouds hung low, And a cold wind endlessly; Winter and war with an alien race, But they were alive and free ! And they thanked their God for His good grace How much the more should we ! Poems For Memorizing For we have a land all sunny with gold, A land by a summer sea; Gold in the earth for our hands to hold, Gold in blossom and tree. Comfort and plenty and beauty and peace From the mountains down to the sea! They thanked their God for a year's increase How much the more should we ! Mrs. Stetson. THE DAY IS DONE. The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. 98 Poems For Memorizing Come, read to me some poems, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavor; And tonight I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. 99 Poems For Memorizing Then read from the treasured volume The poems of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away. Longfellow. THE LAST LEAF, I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the crier on his round Through the town. 100 Poems For Memorizing But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said, " They are gone." The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom, And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many year On the tomb. My grandmamma has said Poor old lady, she is dead Long ago That he had a Roman nose, And his cheek was like a rose In the snow; But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Like a staff, And a crook is in his back, And a melancholy crack Is in his laugh. 101 Foews for Memorizing I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here; But the old three-cornered hat, And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer! And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree In the spring, Let them smile, as I do now, At the old forsaken bough Where I cling. Oliver Wendell Holmes. RING OUT, WILD BELLS. Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying clouds, the frosty light; The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die! Ring out the Old, ring in the New; Ring, happy bells, across the snow; The year is going let him go; Ring out the False, ring in the True! 102 Poems For Memorizing Ring out the grief that saps the mind, For those that here we see no more; King out the feud of rich and poor, Ring in redress to all mankind ! Ring out the slowly dying cause, And ancient forms of party strife, Ring in the nobler modes of life, With sweeter manners, purer laws! Ring out thfe waut, the care, the sin, The faithless coldness of the times ; Ring out, ring out, my mournful rhymes, But ring the fuller Minstrel in ! Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite; Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring in the common love of Good! Ring out old shapes of foul disease, Ring out the narrow lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace! Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land Ring in the Christ that is to be ! Alfred Tennyson. 103 Poems For Memorizing SOLDIER, REST! Soldier, rest! Thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing; Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest! Thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more ; Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking. No rude sound shall reach thine ear, Armor's clang, or war-steed champing; Trump nor pibroch summon here Mustering clan, or squadron tramping. Yet the lark's shrill fife may come, At the daybreak, from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum , Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near; Guards nor warders challenge here; Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing, Shouting clans, or squadrons stamping. Sir Walter Scott. 104 Poems For Memorizing A SONG. There is ever a song somewhere, niy dear; There is ever a something sings always : There's the song of the lark when the skies are clear, And the song of the thrush when the skies are gray. The sunshine showers across the grain, And the bluebird trills in the orchard tree ; And in and out, when the eaves drip rain, The swallows are twittering ceaselessly. There is ever a song somewhere, my dear, Be the skies above or dark or fair, There is ever a song that our hearts may hear There is a song somewhere, my dear There is ever a song somewhere! There is ever a song somewhere, my dear, In the midnight black, or the mid-day blue: The robin pipes when the sun is here, And the cricket chirrups the whole night through. The buds may blow, and the fruit may grow, And the autumn leaves drop crisp and sear; But whether the sun, or the rain, or the snow, There is ever a song somewhere, my dear. 105 Poems For Memorizing There is ever a song somewhere, my dear, Be the skies above or dark or fair t There is ever a song that our hearts may hear There is ever a song somewhere, my dear There is ever a song somewhere ! James Whitcomb Riley. THE AMERICAN FLAG. When Freedom, from her mountain height, Unfurled her standard 'to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there. She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure, celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then, from his mansion in the sun, She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen land. Majestic monarch of the cloud! Who rear'st aloft thy regal form, To hear the tempest trumpings loud And see the lightning lances driven, When strive the warriors of the storm, 106 Poems For Memorizing And rolls the thunder- drum of heaven, Child of the sun! to thee 'tis given To guard the banner of the free ; To hover in the sulphur smoke, To ward away the battle- stroke; And bid its blending shine afar, Like rainbows on the clouds of war, The harbingers of victory! Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly, The sign of hope and triumph high! When speaks the signal trumpet tone, And the long line comes gleaming on, Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet, Has dimmed the glistening bayonet, Each soldier eye shall brightly turn To where thy sky-born glories burn , And, as his springing steps advance, Catch war and vengeance from the glance ; And when the cannon-mouthings loud Heave in wild wreathes the battle- shroud, And gory sabres rise and fall, Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall, Then shall thy meteor glances glow, And cowering foes shall shrink beneath Each gallant arm that strikes below That lovely messenger of death. 107 Poems For Memorizing Flag of the seas! on ocean wave Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave, When death, careering on the gale, Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frightened waves rush wildly back Before the broadside's reeling rack: Each dying wanderer of the sea Shall look at once to heaven and thee, And smile to see thy splendors fly In triumph o'er his closing eye. Flag of the free heart's hope and home, By angel hands to valor given, Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet ! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us! Joseph Rodman Drake. THE RAINY DAY. The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. 108 Poems For Memorizing My life is cold, and dark and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the daj's are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary. Longfellow. BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE. Not a drum was heard, nor a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. "We buried him darkly, at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moonbeams misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin inclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. 109 Poems For Memorizing Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow. We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow ! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him; But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on, In the grave where a Briton has laid him ! k**- ' " But half of our heavy task was done When the clock tolled the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. ) Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory! We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But we left him alone in his glory, Charles Wolfe. 110 Poems For Memorizing OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Over and over again, No matter which way I turn, I always find in the book of life Some lesson I have to learn. I must take my turn at the mill, I must grind out the golden grain, I must work at my task with a resolute will, Over and over again. We cannot measure the need Of even the tiniest flower, Nor check the flow of the golden sands, That run through a single hour; But the morning dews must fall, And the sun and the summer rain Must do their part and perform it all Over and over again. Over and over again The brook through the meadows flows, And over and over again The ponderous mill- wheel goes. Once doing will not suffice, Though doing be not in vain ; And a blessing failing us once or twice, May come if we try again. Ill Poems For Memorizing The path that has once been trod Is never so rough to the feet; And the lesson we once have learned Is never so hard to repeat. Though sorrowful tears must fall, And the heart to its depths be driven With storm and tempest, we need them all To render us meet for Heaven. Josephine Pollard. A PSALM OF LIFE. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each tomorrow Finds us farther than today. 112 Poems For Memorizing Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be. not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife! Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead ! Act act in the living present ! Heart within, and God overhead. Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait. Longfellow. 113 Poems For Memorizing AN ORDER FOR A PICTURE. Oh, good painter, tell me time, Has your hand the cunning to draw Shapes of things that you never saw? Aye? Well, here is an order for you. Woods and corn fields, a little brown, The picture must not be overbright, Yet all in the golden and gracious light Of a cloud, when the summer sun is down. Away and alway, night and morn, Woods upon woods, with fields of corn Lying between them, not quite sere, And not in the full, thick, leafy bloom, When the wind can hardly find breathing-room Under the tassels, cattle near, Biting shorter the short green grass, And a hedge of sumach and sassafras, With bluebirds twittering all around, (Ah, good painter, you can't paint sound! ) These, and the house where I was born, Low and little, and black and old, With children, many as it can hold, All at the windows open wide, Heads and shoulders clear outside, And fair young faces all ablush : Perhaps you have seen, some day, Roses crowding the self-same way, Out of a wilding, wayside bush. 114 Poems For Memorizing Listen closer. When you have done With woods and cornfields and grazing herds, A lady, the loveliest ever the sun Looked down upon you must paint for me: Oh, if I could only make you see The clear blue eyes, the tender smile, The sovereign sweetness, the gentle grace, The woman soul, and the angel's face That are beaming on me all the while , I need not speak these foolish words: Yet one word tells you all I would say, She is my mother: you will agree That all the rest may be thrown away. Two little urchins at her knee You must paint, sir: one like me, The other with a clearer brow And the light of his adventurous eyes Flashing with boldest enterprise : At ten years old he went to sea, God knoweth if he be living now, He sailed in the good ship Commodore, Nobodj- ever crossed her track To bring us news, and she never came back. Ah, it is twenty long years and more Since that old ship went out of the bay With my great-hearted brother on her deck: I watched him till he shrank to a speck, And his face was toward me all the way. 115 Poems For Memorizing Bright his hah' was, a golden brown, The time we stood at our mother's knee: That beauteous head, if it did go down, Carried sunshine into the sea! Out in the fields one summer night We were together, half afraid Of the corn-leaves' rustling, and of the shade Of the high hills, stretching so still and far, Loitering till after the low little light Of the candle shone through the open door, And over the haystack's pointed top, All of a tremble and ready to drop, The first half -hour, the great yellow star, That we, with staring, ignorant eyes, Had often and often watched to see Propped and held in its place in the skies By the fork of a tall red mulberry- tree, Which close in the edge of our flaxtree grew, Dead at the top, just one branch full Of leaves, notched round, and lined with wool, From which it tenderly shook the dew Over our heads, when we came to play In its hand-breath of shadow, day after day. Afraid to go home, sir; for one of us bore A nest full of speckled and thin-shelled eggs, The other, a bird, held fast by the legs, Not so big as a straw of wheat : The berries we gave her she wouldn't eat, But cried and cried, till we held her bill, So slim and shining, to keep her still. 116 Poems For Memorizing At last we stood at our mother's knee. Do you think, sir, if you try, You can paint the look of a lie? If you can, pray have the grace To put it solely in the face Of the urchin that is likest me : I think 'twas solely mine, indeed: But that's no matter, paint it so; The eyes of our mother (take good heed) Looking not on the nestful of eggs, Nor the fluttering bird, held so fast by the legs, But straight through our faces down to our lies, And, oh, with such injured, reproachful surprise! I felt my heart bleed where that glance went, as though A sharp blade struck through it. You, sir, know That you on the canvass are to repeat Things that are fairest, things most sweet, Woods and corn fields and mulberry- tree, The mother, the lads, with their bird at her knee: But, oh, that look of reproachful woe! High as the heavens your name I'll shout, If you paint me the picture and leave that out. Alice Gary. 117 SEVENTH GRADE. THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays; Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers ; The flush of life may well be seen Thrilling back over hills and valleys ; The cowslip startles in meadows green; The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace. The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives. 118 Poems For Memorizing His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings: He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest In the nice ear of nature which song is the best? # * * * * * # * Lowell. COLUMBUS WESTWARD.* Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind the Gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghost of shores, Before him only shoreless seas. The good mate said: " Now we must pray, For lo! the very stars are gone. Brave Adm'rl, speak; what shall I say?" " Why, say: ' Sail on! sail on! sail on! ' J My men grow mutinous day by day; My men grow ghastly wan and weak." The stout mate thought of home ; a spray Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. What shall I say, brave Adm'rl, say If we sight naught but seas at dawn?" Why, you shall say at break of day: ' Sail on ! sail on ! sail on ! sail on ! ' " 119 Poems For Memorizing They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow, Until at last the blanched mate said : ' Why, not even God would know Should I and all my men fall dead. These very winds forget their way, For God from these dread seas is gone. Now speak, brave Adm'rl; speak and say ' He said : ' ' Sail on ! sail on ! and on ! " They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate: This mad sea shows its teeth to-night. He curls his lip, he lies in wait, With lifted teeth, as if to bite! Brave Adm'rl, say but one good word; What shall we do when hope is gone? The words leapt as a leaping sword: Sail on ! sail on ! sail on ! and on ! " Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck, And peered through darkness. Ah, that night Of all dark nights ! And then a speck Alight! Alight! Alight! Alight! It grew, a starlit flag unfurled! It grew to be Time's burst of dawn. He gained a world ; he gave that world Its grandest lesson : ' ' On ! sail on ! " Joaquin Miller. *In a recent critical article in the London Athenaeum is the sentence: " In point of power, workmanship and feeling, among all the poems written by Americans, we are inclined to give first place to the Port of Ships' (or Columbus : ) by Joaquin Miller." 120 Poems For Memorizing BUGLE SONG. The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story ; The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying; Blow, bugle; answer, echoes dying, dying, dying! O hark, hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far, from cliff and scar, The horns of Elf land faintly blowing! Blow! let us hear the purple glens replying; Blow, bugle; answer, echoes dying, dying, dying! O love! they die in yon rich sky; They faint on hill, or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying; And answer, echoes, answer dying, dying, dying. Tennyson. 121 Poems For Memorizing TO A SKYLARK. Hail to thee, blithe spirit Bird thou never wert That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou spriugest, Like a cloud of fire : The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. In the golden lightning Of the setting sun, O'er which clouds are bright'ning, Thou dost float and run; Like an embodied joy whose race is just begun. The pale purple even Melts around thy flight ; Like a star of heaven, In the broad daylight Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight. 122 Poems For Memorizing Keen as are the arrows Of that silvery sphere, Whose intense lamp narrows In the white dawn clear, Until we hardly see, we feel, that it is there. All the earth and air With thy voice is loud, As, when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed. What thon art we know not; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not ; Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower; 123 Poems For Memorizing Like a glow-worm golden, In a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view; Like a rose embowered ' In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflower 'd, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy- winged thieves. Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awakened flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and fresh and clear, thy music doth surpass. Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine; I have never heard Praise of love or wine That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. Chorus hymeneal, Or triumphant chant, Match 'd with thine, would be all But an empty vaunt, A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. 124 Poems For Memorizing What object are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What loVe of thine own kind? What ignorance of pain? With thy clear, keen joyance Languor sannot be; Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee ; Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety. Waking, or asleep, Thou of death must deem Things more true and deep Than we mortals dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream? We look before and after, And pine for what is not ; Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought, Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride and fear, If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. 125 Poems For Memorizing Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found. Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground! Teach me half the gladness That? thy brain must know, Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow, The world should listen then, as I am listening now. Percy Bysshe Shelley. SAIL ON, O SHIP OF STATE! Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O Union, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thj fate ! We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope ! 126 Poems For Memorizing Fear not each sudden sound and shock, 'Tis of the wave and not the rock; 'Tis but the napping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale ! In spite of rock and tempest's roar, In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee; Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee are all with thee ! Longfellow. WHAT CONSTITUTES A STATE ? What constitutes a state! Not high-raised battlement or labored mound, Thick wall or moated gate; Not cities proud with spires and turrets crowned; Not bays and broad- arm ports, Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride; Not starred and spangled courts, Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. No : men, high-minded men, With powers as far above dull brutes endued In forest, brake, or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude, 127 Poems For Memorizing Men who their duties know, But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, Prevent the long aimed blow, And crush the t3 T rant while they rend the chain: These constitute a state; And sovereign law, that state's collected will, O'er thrones and globes elate, Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill. Sir William Jones. CROSSING THE BAR. Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me ! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark ! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar. Tennyson. 128 Poems For Memorizing THE SOUND OF THE SEA. The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep, And round the pebbly beaches far and wide I heard the first wave of the rising tide Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep : A voice out of the silence of the deep; A sound mysteriously multiplied As of a cataract from the mountain side, Or roar of winds upon a wooded steep. So comes to us at times, from the unknown And inaccessible solitudes of being, The rushing of the sea-tides of the soul; And inspirations, that we deem our own, Are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing Of things beyond our reason or control. Longfellow. SNOW-BOUND. The sun that brief December day Rose cheerless over hills of gray, And, darkly circled, gave at noon A sadder light than waning moon, Slow tracing down the thickening sky Its mute and ominous prophecy, A portent seeming less than threat, 129 Poems For Memorizing It sank from sight before it set. A chill no coat, however stout Of homespun stuff could quite shut out, A hard, dull bitterness of cold, That checked, mid-vein, the circling race Of life-blood in the sharpened face, The coming of the snow-storm told. The wind blew east; we heard the roar Of Ocean on his wintry shore, And felt the strong pulse throbbing there Beat the low rhythm our inland air. What matter how the night behaved? What matter how the north- wind raved? Blow high, blow low, not all its snow Could quench our hearth-fire's ruddy glow. O Time and Change! with hair as gray As was my sire's that winter day, How strange it seems, with so much gone Of life and love, to still live on ! Ah, brother! only I and thou Are left of all that circle now, The dear home faces whereupon That fitful firelight paled and shone. Henceforward, listen as we will, The voices of that hearth are still; Look where we may, the wide earth o'er, Those lighted faces smile no more. 130 Poems For Memorizing We tread the paths their feet have worn, We sit beneath their orchard trees, We hear, like them, the hum of bees And rustle of the bladed corn : We turn the pages that they read, Their written words we linger o'er, But in the sun they cast no shade. No voice is heard, no sign is made, No step is on the conscious floor ! Yet Love will dream, and Faith will trust, (Since He who knows our need is just,) That somehow, somewhere, meet we must. Alas for him who never sees The stars shine through his cypress trees ! Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play ! Who hath not learned, in hours of faith, The truth to flesh and sense unknown, That Life is ever lord of Death, And Love can never lose its own ! Whittier. 131 Poems For Memorizing THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS. This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feigii, Sails the unshadowed main, The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair. Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl ; Wrecked is the ship of pearl ! And every chambered cell, Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell, As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell, Before thee lies revealed, Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed! Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil ; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more. 132 Poems For Memorizing Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea. Cast from her lap, forlorn! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born That ever Triton blew from wreathed horn ! While on mine ear it rings, Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings : Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave thy low- vaulted past ! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea! Oliver Wendell Holmes. SONG OF MARION'S MEN. Our band is few, both true and tried, Our leader frank and bold ; The British soldier trembles When Marion's name is told. Our fortress is the good greenwood, Our tent the cypress tree ; We know the forest round us, As the seaman knows the sea; We know its walls and thorny vines, Its glades of reedy grass, Its safe and silent islands Within the dark morass. 133 Poems For Memorizing Woe to the English soldiery That little dread us near! On them shall light at midnight A strange and sudden fear ; When, walking to their tents on fire, They grasp their arms in vain, And they who stand to face us Are beat to earth again ; And they who fly in terror deem A mighty host behind, And hear the tramp of thousands Upon the hollow wind. Then sweet the hour that brings release From danger and from toil : We talk the battle over, And share the battle's spoil. The woodland rings with laugh and shout, As if a hunt were up, And woodland flowers are gathered To crown the soldier's cup. With merry songs we mock the wind That in the pinetop grieves, And slumber long and sweetly On beds of oaken leaves. Well known the fair and friendly moon The band that Marion leads The glitter of their rifles, The scampering of their steeds. 134 Poems For Memorizing "Pis life our fiery barbs to guide Across the moonlight plains; 'Tis life to feel the night- wind That lifts their tossing manes. A moment in the British camp A moment and away Back to the pathless forest, Before the peep of day. Grave men there are by broad Santee, Grave men with hoary hairs; Their hearts are all with Marion, For Marion are their prayers. And lovely ladies greet our band With kindliest welcoming, With smiles like those of summer, And tears like those of spring. For them we wear these trusty arms, And lay them down no more Till we have driven the Briton For ever from the shore. Bryant. 135 Poems .For Memorizing WARREN'S ADDRESS. Stand! the ground's your own, iny braves! Will ye give it up to slaves? Will ye look for greener graves? Hope ye mercy still? What's the mercy despots feel? Hear it in that battle peal ! Read it on yon bristling steel ! Ask it, ye who will. Fear ye foes who kill for hire? Will ye to your homes retire? Look behind you! they're afire! And, before you, see Who have done it! From the vale On they come! and will ye quail? Leaden rain and iron hail Let their welcome be ! In the God of battles trust ! Die we may, and die we must: But, oh! where can dust to dust Be consigned so well, As where heaven its dews shall shed On the martyred patriot's bed, And the rocks shall raise their head, Of his deeds to tell? John Pierpont. 136 Poems For Memorizing DAYBREAK. A wind came up out of the sea, And said, " O mists, make room for me." It hailed the ships, and cried, " Sail on, Ye mariners, the night is gone." And hurried landward far away, Crying, " Awake! it is the day." It said unto the forest, " Shout! Hang all your leafy banners out ! J ' It touched the wood-bird's folded wing, And said, " O bird, awake and sing." And o'er the farms, " O chanticleer, Your clarion blow; the day is near." It whispered to the fields of corn, Bow down, and hail the coming morn." It shouted through the belfry tower, Awake, O bell! proclaim the hour." It crossed the churchyard with a sigh, And said. " Not yet! in quiet lie." Longfellow. 13T Poems For Memorizing LIBERTY, OK DEATH! Mr. President: It is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a pain- ful truth, and listen to the song of that siren, till she trans- forms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, haying eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation! For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth to know the worst, and to provide for it. I have one light by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past; and, judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace them- selves and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet! Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown our- selves so willing to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love? 138 Poems For Memorizing Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation the last argument to which kings resort. I ask, sir, what means this martial array, if its pur- pose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accum- ulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none; they are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable, but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm that is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated our- selves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted ; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned with con- tempt from the foot of the throne ! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free; if we mean to preserve inviolate 139 Poems For Memorizing those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending; if we mean not basely to abandon the noble strug- gle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, we must fight! I re- peat it, sir: We must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all that is left us ! They tell us, sir, that we are weak unable to cope with so formidable an adversary; but when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house ! Shall we gather strength by irres- olution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot"? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of Nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are in- vincible by any force which any enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone: there is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to -fight our battles for us. The battle is not to the strong alone: it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submission or slavery! Our chains are forged I Their clanking may be heard on the plains of 140 Poems For Memorizing Boston! The war is inevitable, and let it come! I repeat it sir: Let it come! Vlt is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry " Peace! peace! " but there is no peace. The war is act- ually begun ! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms ! Our brethren are already in the fields! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have! Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take, but, as for me, give me liberty, or give me death! Patrick Henry. HYMN ON THE FIGHT AT CONCORD. By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood. And fired the shot heard round the world. The foe long since in silence slept, Alike the conqueror silent sleeps, And Time the ruined bridge has swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. i On this green bank, by this soft stream, We set to-day the votive stone, That memory may their deed redeem, When, like our sires, our sous are gone. 141 Poems For Memorizing Spirit that made those heroes dare To die, and leave their children free, Bid Time and Nature gently spare The shaft we raise to them and thee. R. W. Emerson, WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE. Woodman, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough ! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot ; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy axe shall harm it not ! That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea, And wouldst thou hew it down? Woodman, forbear thy stroke! Cut not its earth-bound ties ; Oh, spare that aged oak, Now towering to the skies ! 142 Poems For Memorizing When but an idle boy I sought its grateful shade; In all their gushing joy Here too my sisters played. My mother kissed me here; My father pressed my hand Forgive this foolish tear, But let that old oak stand! My heart-strings round thee cling, Close as thy bark, old friend! Here shall the wild-bird sing, And still thy branches bend. Old tree! the storm still brave! And, woodman, leave the spot; While I've a hand to save, Thy axe shall harm it not. George P. Morris. ABOU BEN ADHEM. Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold; Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, ' What writest thou? ' ' The vision raised its head, Poems For Memorizing And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord." ' And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still; and said, " I pray thee, then, Write me as one who loves his fellow- men." The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night It came again, with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blest; And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest. James Henry Leigh Hunt. A44 EIGHTH GRADE. O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! A Dirge for Lincoln. O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather' d every wrack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But, O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, WTiere on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up for you the flag is flung for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon 'd wreaths for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead. 145 Poems or Memorizing My Captain does not answer, his lips are cold and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor 'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells! But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. Walt Whitman. THANATOPSIS. To him who, in the love of Nature, holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty; and she glides Into his darker musings with a mild And gentle sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart; Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around 146 Poems For Memorizing Earth and her waters and the depths of air Comes a still voice, Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again; And, lost each human trace, surrendering up Thine individual being, shalt thou go To mix forever with the elements : To be a brother to the insensible rock, And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould. Yet not to thine eternal resting place Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world, with kings, The powerful of the earth, the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills, Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun; the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods, rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man! The golden sun, 147 Poems For Memorizing The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, traverse Barca's desert sands, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon and hears no sound Save his own dashiugs, yet the dead are there! And millions in those solitudes since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep, the dead reign there alone! So shalt thou rest; and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure! All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will langh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come, And make their bed with thee. As the long train Of ages glide away, the sons of men, The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes In the full strength of years, matron and maid, The speechless babe, and the gray- headed man, Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those who in their turn shall follow them. 148 Poems For Memorizing So live, that when thy summons conies to join The innumerable caravan, which moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry- slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. Bryant. A MAN'S A MAN FOR A 7 THAT Is there, for honest poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that? The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a 'that! For a 7 that, and a' that, Our toils obscure, and a' that; The rank is but the guinea's stamp; The man's the gowdfor a' that, What tho' on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden gray, and a' that; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man, for a' that! For a' that, and a' that, Their tinsel show, and a' that, The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a that 149 Poems For Memorizing Ye see you birkie, ca'd a lord, Wha struts, and stares, arid a' that; Though hundreds worship at his word, He's but a coof for a' that! For a' that, and a' that, His riband, star, and a' that, The man of independent mind, He looks and 'laughs at a' that A king can make a belted knight, A marquis, duke, and a' that, But an honest man's aboon his might, Guid faith, he maunna fa' that' For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride o" worth, Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may As come it will for a' that That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that; For a' that, and a' that, It's comin' yet for a' that; That man to man, the warld o'er, Shall brothers be for a' that. Robert Burns. 150 Poems For Memorizing TO A WATERFOWL. 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, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean side? There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air, Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near. And soon that toil shall end; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend Soon o'er thy sheltered nest. 151 Poems For Memorizing Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallow'd up thy form; yet, on my heart, Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright. Bryant. REMEMBERED MUSIC. Thick-rushing, like an ocean vast Of bisons the far prairie shaking, The notes crowd heavily and fast As surfs, one plunging while the last Draws seaward from its foamy breaking. Or in low murmurs they began, Rising and rising momently, As o'er a harp ^olian A fitful breeze, until they ran Up to a sudden ecstasy. And then, like minute drops of rain Ringing in water silvery, They lingering dropped and dropped again, Till it was almost like a pain To listen when the next would be. Lowell. 152 Poems For Memorizing OLD IRONSIDES. Ay, tear her tattered ensigu down! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky : Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar; The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee ; The harpies of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea. Oh ! better that her shattered hulk Should sink beneath the wave; Her thundei-s shook the mighty deep, And there should be her grave. Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the god of storms The lightning and the gale. Oliver Wendell Holmes 153 Poems For Memorizing BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; He is tramping out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored ; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword ; His truth is marching on. I have seen him in the watch- fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps ; I have read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps : His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel ; '* As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel; Since God is marching on." He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat ; He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat; Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on. In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me ; As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free. While God is marching on. Julia Ward Howe. 154 Poems For Memorizing LIBERTY AND UNION. I profess, sir, in iny career hitherto, to have kept steadily in view the prosperity and honor of the whole country, and the preservation of our federal union. It is to that union that we owe our safety at home, and our consideration and dignity abroad. It is to that union that we are chiefly indebted for whatever makes us most proud of our country. That union we reached only by the discipline of our virtues in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin in the necessities of dis- ordered finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Un- der its benign influences, these great interests immediately awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of life. Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility and its blessings ; and although our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population spread far- ther and farther, they have not outrun its protection or its benefits. It has been to us all a copious fountain of national, social, and personal happiness. I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the union, to see what might be hidden in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving liberty, when the bonds that unite us together shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss below; nor could I regard him as a safe coun- sellor in the affairs of this government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how the union should be 155 Poems For Memorizing preserved, but how tolerable might be the condition of the people, when it shall be broken up and destroyed. While the union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Be- yond that, I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that in my day, at least, that curtain may not rise. God grant that on my vision never may be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishon- ored fragments of a once glorious union; on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather, behold the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original luster; not a stripe erased or polluted, not a single star obscured, bearing for its motto, no such misera- able interrogatory as, What is all this worth? nor those other words of delusion and folly: Liberty first, and union after- wards; but every where, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart, LIBERTY AND UNION, now and forever, one and inseparable! Daniel Webster, 156 Poems For Memorizing THE SHELL. See what a lovely shell, Small and pure as a pearl, Lying close to my foot, Frail, but a work divine, Made so f airily well With delicate spire and whorl, How exquisitely minute, A miracle of design ! What is it'? a learned man Could give it a clumsy name. Let him name it who can, The beauty would be the same. The tiny cell is forlorn, Void of the little living will That made it stir on the shore. Did he stand at the diamond door Of his house in a rainbow frill? Did he push, when he was uncurPd A golden foot or a fairy horn 'Thro his dim water world! Slight, to be crushed with a tap Of my finger-nail on the sand, Small, but a work divine, Frail, but of force to withstand, 157 Poems For Memorizing Year upon year, the shock Of cataract seas that snap The three decker's oaken spine Athwart the ledges of rock Here on the Breton strand! Tennyson. SELF-DEPENDENCE. Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea. And a look of passionate desire O'er the sea and to the stars I send: Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me, Calm me, ah, compose me to the end! Ah, once more," I cried, " ye stars, ye waters, On my heart your mighty charm renew; Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you, Feel my soul becoming vast like you ! ' ' From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven, Over the lit sea's unquiet way, In the rustling night-air came the answer: Wouldst thou be as these are? Live as they. 158 Poems For Memorizing ' Unaffrighted by the silence round them, Undistracted by the sights they see, These demand not that the things without them Yield them love, amusement, sympathy. And with joy the stars perform their shining, And the sea its long moon- silvered roll; For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting All the fever of some differing soul. Bounded by themselves, and unregardful In what state God's other works may be, In their own tasks all their powers pouring, These attain the mighty life you see." air-born voice! long since, severely clear, A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear: Resolve to be thyself; and know that he, Who finds himself, loses his misery ! ' ' Matthew Arnold. SUN AND SHADOW. As I look from the isle, o'er its billows of green, To the billows of foam-crested blue, Yon bark, that afar in the distance is seen, Half dreaming, my eyes will pursue : Now dark in the shadow, she scatters the spray As the chaff in the stroke of the flail ; Now white as the sea-gull, she flies on her way, The sun gleaming bright on her sail. 159 Poems For Memorizing Yet her pilot is thinking of dangers to shun,- Of breakers that whiten and roar ; How little he cares, if in shadow or sun They see him who gaze f rom the shore ! He looks to the beacon that looms from the reef, To the rock that is under his lee, As he drifts on the blast , like a wind- wafted leaf, O'er the gulfs of the desolate sea. Thus drifting afar to the dim- vaulted caves Where life and its ventures are laid, The dreamers who gaze while we battle the waves May see us in sunshine or shade ; Yet true to our course, though the shadows grow dark, We'll trim our broad sail as before, And stand by the rudder that governs the bark, Nor ask how we look from the shore ! Oliver Wendell Holmes. GETTYSBURG ADDRESS. Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We are met to dedicate a portion of it as the final resting-place for 160 Poems For Memorizing those who here gave their lives that the nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our power to add or detract. The world will little note nor long remember what we say here ; but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they have thus far so nobly car- ried on. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us; that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to the cause for which they here gave the last, full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain ; that the nation shall, under God, have a new birth of freedom; and that gov- ernment of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth ! Abraham Lincoln. THE WAY TO HEAVEN. Heaven is not gained at a single bound; But we build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to its summit round by round. I count this thing to be grandly true, That a noble deed is a step toward God, Lifting the soul from the common sod To a purer air and a broader view. 161 Poems For Memorizing We rise by things that are 'neath our feet; By what we have mastered of good and gain ; By the pride deposed and the passion slain, And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet. We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust, When the morning calls us to life and light, But our hearts grow weary, and, ere the night, Our lives are trailing the sordid dust. We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray, And we think that we mount the air on wings Beyond the recall of sensual thing, While our feet still cling to the heavy clay. Wings for the angels, but feet for men! We may borrow the wings to find the way We may hope, and resolve, and aspire, and pray, But our feet must rise, or we fall again. Only in dreams is a ladder thrown From the weary earth to the sapphire walls; But the dream departs, and the vision falls, And the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone. Heaven is not reached at a single bound : But we build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to its summit round by round. J. G. Holland. 162 Poems For Memorizing ELEGY. Written in a Country Churchyard. The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : Save from that yonder ivy- mantled tower The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a moldering heap, Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezj call of incense-breathing morn, The shallow trittering from the straw- built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care : No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. 163 Poems For Memorizing Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th' inevitable hour: The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn, or animated bust, Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honor's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death? Perhaps, in this neglected spot, is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre : 164 Poems Fcr Memorizing But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page Rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll; Chill Penury repress 'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul. Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark, unfathorn'd caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Th' applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes. Their lot forbade : nor circumscribed alone Their glowing virtues, but their crimes confined; Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind ; The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame . 165 Poems For Memorizing Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learn 'd to stray; Along the cool sequestered vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect, Some frail memorial still erected nigh, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. Their names, their years, spelled by th' unletter'd Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'erresign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind? On some fond breast the parting soul relies, Some pious drops the closing eye requires; E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our ashes live the wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonor'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate, If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, 166 Poems For Memorizing Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty step the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn ; There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. " Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove ; Now drooping, woeful-wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed with care, or cross 'd in hopeless love. "One morn I miss'd him on the ' custom 'd hill, Along the heath, and near his favorite tree; Another came, nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; ' The next with dirges due in sad array, Slow through the churchyard path we saw him borne ; Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay 'Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." THE EPITAPH. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown; Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy mark'd him for her own. 167 Poems For Memorizing Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere; Heaven did a recompense as largely send : He gave to Misery all he had, a tear, He gain'd from Heaven 'twas all he wish'd a friend. No further seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailities from their dread abode (There they alike in trembling hope repose), The bosom of his Father and his God. Thomas Gray, TRUE REST. No ; rest is not quitting This busy career; Rest is the fitting Of self to its sphere. It is the brook's motion, All clear without strife ; 'Tis fleeting to ocean, Beyond this brief life. 'Tis loving and serving The highest and best; 'Tis onward, unswerving, And this is true rest. Goethe 168 Poems for Memorizing FLOWER IN THE CRANNIED WALL. Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is. Tennyson. THE PRESENT CRISIS. (Extract.) When a deed is done for Freedom, through the broad earth's aching breast, Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east to west, And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the soul within him climb To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sublime Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the thorny stem of Time. Once to every man and nation conies the moment to decide, In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side; Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight, Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right, And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light. 169 Poems For Memorizing Hast thou chosen, O my people, on whose part thou shalt stand, Ere the Doom from its worn sandals shakes the dust against our land? Though the cause of Evil prosper, yet 'tis Truth alone is strong, And, albeit she wander outcast now, I see around her throng Troops of beautiful, tall angels, to shield her from all wrong. ********* Then to side with Truth is noble when we share her wretched crust, Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 'tis prosperous to be just; Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward stands aside. Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified, And the multitude make virtue of the faith they had denied. 'Tis as easy to be heroes as to sit the idle slaves Of a legendary virtue carved upon our father's graves, Worshipers of light ancestral make the present light a crime ; Was the Mayflower launched by cowards, steered by men be- hind their time? Turn those tracks toward Past or Future that make the Ply- mouth Rock sublime? New occasions teach new duties ; Time makes ancient good un- couth ; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth; 170 Poems For Memorizing Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires! we ourselves must Pil- grims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key. Lowell. ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Forgive them, for they know not what they do! " He said, and so went shriven to his fate. Unknowing went, that generous heart and true. Even while he spoke the slayer lay in wait, And when the morning opened Heaven's gate There passed the whitest soul a nation knew. Henceforth all thoughts of pardon are too late ; They, in whose cause that arm its weapon drew, Have murdered Mercy. Now alone shall stand Blind Justice, with the sword unsheathed she wore, Hark, from the eastern to the western strand, The swelling thunder of the people's roar: What words they murmur, Fetter not her hand! So let it smite, such deeds shall be no more! E. C. Stedman. 171 Poems For Memorizing THE LADDER OF ST. AUGUSTINE. Saint Augustine ! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame. All common things, each day's events, That with the hour begin and end, Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend. The low desire, the base design, That makes another's virtues less; The revel of the ruddy wine, And all occasions of excess ; The longing for ignoble things; The strife for triumph more than truth : The hardening of the heart, that brings Irreverence for the dreams of youth ; All thoughts of ill; all evil deeds, That have their root in thoughts of ill; Whatever hinders or impedes The action of the nobler will ; 172 Poems for Memorizing All these must first be trampled down Beneath our feet, if we should gain In the bright fields of fair renown The right of eminent domain. We have not wings, we cannot soar; But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, by more and more, The cloudy summits of our time. The mighty pyramids of stone That wedge-like cleave the desert airs, When nearer seen, and better known, Are but gigantic nights of stairs. The distant mountains, that uprear Their solid bastions to the skies, Are crossed by pathways, that appear As we to higher levels rise. The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night. Standing on what too long we bore With shoulders bent and downcast eyes, We may discern unseen before A path to higher destinies. 173 Poems For Memorizing Nor deem the irrevocable Past As wholly wasted, wholly vain, If, rising on its wrecks, at last To something nobler we attain. Longfellow. CONTENTMENT. I do not own an inch of land, But all I see is mine The orchard and the mowing-fields, The lawns and gardens fine. The winds my tax-collectors are, They bring me tithes divine Wild scents and subtle essences, A tribute rare and free; And more magnificent than all, -My window keeps for me A glimpse of blue immensity A little strip of sea. Richer am I than he who owns Great fleets and argosies; I have a share in every ship, Won by the inland breeze, To loiter on yon airy road Above the apple trees. 174 Poems For Memorizing I freight them all with untold dreams, Each bears my own picked crew; And nobler cargoes watt for them Than India ever knew My ships that sail into the east Across that outlet blue. Lucy Larcom. RECESSIONAL. God of our fathers, known of old Lord of our far-flung battle line Beneath whose awful hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget lest we forget! The tumult and the shouting dies The Captains and the Kings depart Still stands Thine ancient Sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget lest we forget! Far-called, our navies melt away On dune and headland sinks the fire Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre ! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget lest we forget ! 175 Poems For Memorizing If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe Such boasting as the Gentiles use, Or lesser breeds without the Law Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget lest we forget! For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding calls not Thee to guard. For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy mercy on Thy people, Lord! Amen. Rudyard Kipling. 176 SOME OLD FAVORITES. ROBERT OF LINCOLN. Merrily swinging on briar and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain- side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name. Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Snug and safe is this nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed, Wearing a bright, black wedding-coat; White are his shoulders, and white his crest, Hear him call in his merry note, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Look what a nice, new coat is mine; Sure there was never a bird so fine. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband sings, 177 Poems For Memorizing Bob-'o-liuk, bob-o'-link, Spink, spaiik, spink, Brood, kind creature, you need not fear Thieves and robbers while I am here. Chee, chee, ehee. Modest and shy as a nun is she ; One weak chirp is her only note ; Braggart, and prince of braggarts is he, Pouring boasts from his little throat, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Never was I afraid of man, Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can. Chee, chee, chee. Six white eggs on a bed of hay, Flecked with purple, a pretty sight: There as the mother sits all day, Robert is singing with all his might, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Nice, good wife that never goes out, Keeping house while I frolic about. Chee, chee, chee. Soon as the little ones chip the shell, Six wide mouths are open for food; Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seeds for the hungry brood : 178 Poems For Memorizing Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, This new life is likely to be Hard for a gay young fellow like me. Ghee, chee, ehee. Robert of Lincoln at length is made Sober with work, and silent with care, Off is his holiday garment laid, Half forgotten that merry air, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, Nobody knows but my mate and I, Where our nest and our nestlings lie. Chee, chee, chee. Summer wanes ; the children are grown ; Fun and frolic no more he knows, Robert of Lincoln's a hum-drum drone; Off he flies, and we sing as he goes, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink, When you can pipe that merry old strain, Robert of Lincoln, come back again, Chee, chee, chee. Bryant. 179 Poems For Memorizing CASABIANCA. The boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though child-like form. The flames rolled on he would not go, Without his father's word; That father, faint in death below, His voice no longer heard. He called aloud ' ' Say, father, say, If yet my task is done?" He knew not that the chieftain lay, Unconscious of his son. Speak, father!" once again he cried, " If I may yet be gone? " And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames roll'd on. 180 Poems For Memorizing Upon his brow he felt their breath, And in his waving hair, And looked from that lone post of death, In still, yet brave despair. And shouted but once more aloud, " My father! must I stay?" While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made away. They wrapt the ship in splendor wild, They caught the flag on high, And streamed above the gallant child, Like banners in the sky. There came a burst of thunder sound The boy Oh, where was he? Ask of the winds that far around, With fragments strewed the sea! With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, That well had borne their part But the noblest thing which perished there, Was that young, faithful heart. Mrs. Hemans. 181 Poems For Memorizing WHAT I LIVE FOR. I live for those who love me, Whose hearts are kind and time ; For the heaven that smiles above me, And awaits my spirit, too; For all human ties that bind me, For the task my God assigned me, For the bright hopes left behind me, And the good that I can do. I live to learn their story, Who suffered for my sake ; To emulate their glory, And follow in their wake ; Bards, patriots, martyrs, sages, The noble of all ages, Whose deeds crown History's pages, And Time's great volume make, I live to hail that season, By gifted minds foretold, When man shall live by reason, And not alone by gold; When man to man united, And every wrong thing righted, The whole world shall be lighted As Eden was of old. 182 Poems For Memorizing I live for those who love me, For those who know me true; For the heaven that smiles above me, And awaits my spirit, too; For the cause that needs assistance, For the wrongs that need resistance, For the future in the distance, And the good that I can do. Author not Known. THE BURIAL OF MOSES. By Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave, In a vale in the laud of Moab, There lies a lonely grave; But no man dug that sepulchre, And no man saw it e'er, For the angels of God upturned the sod And laid the dead man there. That was the grandest funeral That ever passed on earth ; But no man heard the tramping, Or saw the, train go forth ; Noiselessly as the daylight Comes when the night is done, And the crimson streak on the ocean's cheek Grows into the great sun, 183 Poems For Memorizing Noiselessly as the spring-time Her crown of verdure weaves, And all the trees on all the hills Open their thousand leaves. So, without sound of music, Or voice of them that wept, Silently down from the mountain's crown The great procession swept. Lo! when the warrior dieth, His comrades in the war, With arms reversed, and muffled drum, Follow the funeral car; They show the banners taken, They tell his battles won, And after him lead his masterless steed, While peals the minute gun. Amid the noblest of the land Men lay the sage to rest, And give the bard an honored place, With costly marble dressed, In the greater minster transept Where lights like glories fall, And the choir sings, and the organ rings Along the emblazoned wall. 184 Poems For Memorizing This was the bravest warrior That ever buckled sword; This the most gifted poet That ever breathed a word; And never earth's philosopher Traced, with his golden pen, On the deathless page, truths half so sage As he wrote down for men. And had he not high honor? The hill- side for his pall, To lie in state while angels wait, With stars for tapers tall; And the dark rock pines, like tossing plumes, Over his bier to wave ; And God's own hand, in that lonely land, To lay him in the grave, In that deep grave, without a name, Whence his uncoffined clay Shall break again, O wondrous thought! Before the judgment day; And stand, with gloiy wrapped around, On the hills he never trod, And speak of the strife that won our life, With the Incarnate Son of God. 185 Paems For Memorizing O lonely tomb in Moab's land! O dark Beth-peor's hill! Speak to these curious hearts of ours, And teach them to be still. God hath His mysteries of grace, Ways that we cannot tell ; He hides them deep, like the secret sleep Of him He loved so well. Mrs. C. F. Alexander. SHERIDAN'S RIDE. Up from the South, at break of day, Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, The affrighted air with a shudder bore, Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door, The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar, Telling the battle was on once more, And Sheridan twenty miles away. And wider still those billows of war Thundered along the horizon's bar; And louder yet into Winchester rolled The roar of that red sea uncontrolled, Making the blood of the listener cold, As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray, And Sheridan twenty miles away. 186 Poems For Memorizing But there is a road from Winchester town, A good, broad highway leading down ; And there, through the flush of the morning light, A steed as black as the steeds of night Was seen to pass, as with eagle flight. As if he knew the terrible need, He stretched away with his utmost speed. Hills rose and fell; but his heart was gay, With Sheridan fifteen miles away. Still sprung from those swift hoofs, thundering south, The dust, like smoke from the cannon's mouth; Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster, Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster. The heart of the steed, and the heart of the master Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls, Impatient to be where the battle-field calls ; Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play, With Sheridan only ten miles away. Under his spurning feet the road Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed, And the landscape sped away behind Like an ocean flying before the wind; And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace ire, Swept on, with his wild eye full of fire. But lo! he is nearing his heart's desire; He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray, With Sheridan only five miles away. 187 Poems For Memorizing The first that the general saw were the groups Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops; What was done? what to do? a glance told him both. Then striking his spurs with a terrible oath, He dashed down the line, 'mid a storm of huzzas, And the wave of retreat check' d its course there, because The sight of the master compelled it to pause. With foam and with dust the black charger was gray; By the flash of his eye, and the red nostril's play He seemed to the whole great army to say, " I have brought you Sheridan all the way From Winchester down, to save the day." Hurrah ! hurrah for Sheridan ! Hurrah ! hurrah for horse and man ! And when their statues are placed on high, Under the dome of the Union sky, The American soldier's Temple of Fame, There with the glorious general's name Be it said, in letters both bold and bright: " Here is the steed that saved the day By carrying Sheridan into the fight, From Winchester twenty miles away ! ' ' Thomas Buchanan Read. 188 Poems For Memorizing Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the sis hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns ! ' ' he said. Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Forward, the Light Brigade!" Was there a man dismayed? Not though the soldier knew Some one had blundered: Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die, Into the valley of Death Rode the Six Hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volleyed and thundered; Stormed at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well; Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell, Rode the six hundred. 189 Poems For Memorizing Flashed all their sabers bare, Flashed as they turned in air, Sab'ring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wondered: Plunged in the battery smoke Right through the line they broke; Cassock and Russian Reeled from the saber stroke, Shattered and sundered. Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volleyed and thundered; Stormed at with shot and shell, While horse and hero fell, They that had fought so well Came through the jaws of Death Back from the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred. When can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made ! All the world wondered. Honor the charge they made ! Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred! Tennyson. 190 Thoughts for Memorizing. ACTION. Of every noble action the intent Is to give worth reward, vice punishment. Beaumont and Fletcher. Think that day lost whose low descending sun Views from thy hand no noble action done. Selected. What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted. Burns. Our grand business undoubtedly is, not to see what lies dimly at a dis- tance, but to do what lies clearly at hand. Carlyle. It is better to wear out than to rust out. Bishop Cumberland.^/ A The manly part is to do with might and main what you can do. Em- erson. Let us then be up and doing, With a heart for any fate, Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait. Longf e llo w . }C Our acts, our angels are, or good or ill, Our fatal shadows that walk by us still. John Fletcher. Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom in the dust. Shirly. We must not stint our necessary actions in the fear to cope malicious censurers. Shakespeare. 191 Thoughts For Memorizing Heaven ne'er helps the man \rfco will not act. Sophocles. I have always thought the actions of men the best interpreters of their thoughts . Locke . Every man feels instinctively that all the beautiful sentiments in the world weigh less than a single lovely action. Lowell. What I have done was not for praise of men ; Then let me not be moved if now and then My actions, thoughts expressed by tongue or pen, Some one offend; oh let me never fear If only right and just I in G-od's eyes appear. W. J. Meredith. The thing that chiefly concerns a man is not whether he succeed or fail, but that he do his whole duty according to the lights vouchsafed him until he die. Ian McLaren. (Adapted). BOOKS. Laws die, books never. Lytton. Books are embalmed minds. Bovee. Books Lighthouses built on the sea of time. Whipple. There is no past so long as books live. Lytton. Hark, the world so loud and they, the movers of the world, so still. Lytton. A taste for books is the pleasure and glory of my life. I would not ex change it for the glory of the Indies. Gibbon. Books should to one of these four ends conduce, For wisdom, piety, delight, or use. Denham. That is a good book that is opened with expectation and closed with profit. Alcott. 192 Thougms For Memorizing Books are the best things, well used: abused, among the worst. Emerson. If time is precious, no book that will not improve by repeated readings deserves to be read at all. Carlyle. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested. Bacon. God be thanked for books. They are the voices of the distant and the dead and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past ages. Channing. In proportion as society refines, new books must ever become more necessary. Goldsmith. BRAVERY. 'Tis more brave to live than to die. Meredith. None but the brave deserve the fair. Dryden. A brave soul is a thing which all things serve. Alex. Smith, A man of courage is also full of faith. Cicero. There is one thing of which I am afraid, and that is fear. Montaigne. Cowards die many times before their death ; The valiant never taste of death but once. Shakespeare. Fear makes men look aside and so their footing miss. Dryden. The brave man seeks not popular applause. Dryden. He is not worthy of the honeycomb that shuns the hive because the bees have stings. Shakespeare. True bravery is shown by performing without witness what one might be capable of doing before all the world. La Rochefoucauld. Courage an independent spark from Heaven's bright throne, By which the soul stands raised triumphant, high, alone. Farquhar. 193 Thoughts For Memorizing Cowards are cruel, but the brave, Love mercy, and delight to save. Gay. CHARACTER, Both man and womankind belie their nature when they are not kind. Bailey. No, when the fight begins within himself A man's worth something. Browning. Clever men are good, but they are not the best. Carlyle. Every one is the son of his own works. Cervantes. Character is higher than intellect. A great soul will be strong to live, as well as to think. Emerson. Human improvement is from within outward. Froude. Whatever comes from the brain carries the hue of the place it came from, aud whatever comes from the heart carries the heat and color of its birthplace. O. W. Holmes. He is truly great that is little in himself, and that maketh no account of any height of honors. Thomas A. Kempis. In this world a man must either be anvil or hammer. Longfellow. Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. Pope. It is of the utmost importance that a nation should have a correct standard by which to weigh the character of its rulers. Lord Eussell. Charity and personal force are the only two investments worth any- thing. Walt Whitman. The man that makes a character makes foes. Young. 194 Thoughts For Memorizing COURAGE. Courage, the highest gift that scorns to bend To mean devices for a sordid end. Farquhar. And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns. Shakespeare. But screw your courage to the sticking place, And we'll not fail. Shakespeare. Courage is, on all hands, considered as an essential of high character. Proude. EDUCATION. Ignorance never settles questions. Disraeli. A learned man is a tank; a wise man is a spring. W. E. Alger. Education makes one an articulate member of the higher whole. Dr. Wm. T. Harris. I have a firm belief that the rock of our safety as a nation lies in the proper education of our population. Benjamin Harrison. Every man must educate himself. His books and teacher are but helps; the work is his. Webster. If a man empties his purse into his head, no man can take it away from him. Franklin. Education is the only interest worthy the deep controlling anxiety of the thoughtful man. Wendell Phillips. Those who think must govern those who toil. Goldsmith. Learning by study must be won, 'Twas ne'er entailed from sire to son. Gay. Education commences at the mother's knee, and every word spoken 195 Thoughts For Memorizing within the hearing of little children tends toward the formation of char- acter. Ballou. Education is to know for the sake of living, not to live for the sake of knowing. Kate Douglass Wiggin. Education begins the gentlemen, but reading, good company, and re- flection must finish him. Locke. Eight education is such a preparation of the individual in physical, intellectual, and moral capacities, as will enable him to secure the high- est enjoyment from their use, here and hereafter. Roark. A boy is better unborn than untaught. Gascoigue. 'Tis education forms the common mind; Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined. Pope. FRIENDSHIP. A true friend is forever a friend. Geo. McDonald. A generous friendship no cold medium knows. Homer. Love all, trust few, do wrong to none. Shakespeare. A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Emerson. To God, thy country, and thy friend be true. Vaughan. To suspect a friend is worse than to be deceived by him. La Roche- foucauld. A true test of friendship to sit or walk with a friend for an hour in perfect silence without wearying of one another's company, Mrs. Mu- lock-Craik. Well-chosen friendshis, the most noble Of virtues, all our joys makes double, And into halves divides our troul.ii-s. Sir J. Denham. 196 Thoughts For Memorizing The condition which high friendship demands is ability to do without it. Emerson. Friendship above all ties does bind the heart, And faith in friendship is the noblest part. Shakespeare. We can never replace a friend. When a man is fortunate enough to have several, he finds they are all different. No one has a double in friendship. Schiller. The friends thou hast and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy side with hooks of steel Shakespeare. A friend is gold: if true he'll never leave thee; Yet both, without a touchstone, may deceive thee. Thos. Randolph. Friendship has a power To soothe affliction in her darkest hour. Henry Kirke White. HABITS. Habit is ten times nature. Wellington. Habit is the deepest law of human nature. Carlyle. We first make our habits, then our habits make us. Dryden. The habits of time are the soul's dress for eternity. Cheever. Men are but children of a larger growth. Dryden. How use doth breed a habit in a man! Shakespeare. Habit is a cable ; we weave a thread of it every day and at last we can- not break it. Horace Mann. 197 Thoughts For Memorizing 111 habits gather by unseen degrees ; As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas. Dryden. The chains of habit are generally too small to be felt until they are too strong to be broken. Johnson. Bad habits are as infectious by example as the plague itself by con- tact. Fielding. Sow an act and you reap a habit; sow a habit and you reapachanvcr* , ; BOW a character and you reap a destiny. Boardman. We sleep, but the loom of life never stops ; and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up tomorrow. Beecher. Habits, though in their commencement like the filmy line of the spider, trembling at every breeze, may in the end prove as links of tem- pered steel, binding a deathless being to eternal felicity or eternal woe. Mrs. Sigourney. HONESTY Boys, keep your record clean. John B. Gough. An honest man's the noblest work of Grod. Pope. Dare to be true; nothing can need a lie. Herbert. Falsehood is cowardice; truth is courage. Ballou. Truth is truth whether the individual man believes it or not. Moody. The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat oneself . Bailey. Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of our own minds. Emerson. You measure every man's honesty by your own. Anon. 198 Thoughts For Memorizing An honest man's word is as good as his bond. Cervantes. There is only one failure in life possible, and that is not to be true to the best one knows. Farrar. Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive. Scott. This above all to thine own self be true ; And it shall follow as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Shakespeare. Truth crushed to earth shall rise again ; Th' eternal years of God are hers ; But error, wounded, writhes in pain And dies among her worshipers. Bryant. KINDNESS, Kindness has resistless charms. Rochester. With malice toward none, with charity for all. Lincoln. It is true that he who does nothing for others, does nothing for himself. Kind hearts are more than coronets, and simple faith than Norman blood. Tennyson. How far that little candle throws its beams, So shines a good deed in a naughty world. Shakespeare. Kindness a language which the dumb can speak and the deaf can understand. Bovee. \^ That best portion of a good man's life, His little nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love. Wordsworth. 199 Thoughts For Memorizing Count that day lost whose low descending sun, Views from thy hand no worthy action done. Anon. There's nothing so kingly as kindness, And nothing so royal as truth. Anon. Be good, my child, and let who will be clever; Do noble deeds, not dream them, all day long; And so make life, death, and that vast forever, One grand, sweet song. Kingsley. In simple manners all the secret lies Be kind and virtuous, you'll be blest and wise. Young. Life is not so short but that there's always time enough for courtesy. Emerson. Oh, there are looks and tones that dart An instant sunshine through the heart ; As if the soul that minute caught Some treasure it through life had sought. Moore. ABOUT LINCOLN. Our Country 's^ Martyr. He lives in our memories. Though dead, he yet speaketh. Freedom's noblest sacrifice. We loved him much, but now we love him more. Faithful to right, a martyr to justice. 200 Thoughts For Memorizing He saved our country and freed a race. With malice toward none, with charity for all. We honor him dead, who honored us while living. The poor man's champion; the people mourn him. Our Union cemented in patriot blood shall stand forever. He won the wreath of fame. And wrote on memory's scroll a deathless name. Abraham Lincoln is dead, but his principles will live forever. BY LINCOLN. The Union must be preserved. Fellow citizens ice cannot escape history. A nation may be said to consist of its territory, its people and its laws. I believe this government cannot permanently endure half slave and half free. No men living are more worthy to be trusted than those who toil up from poverty. I claim not to have controlled events, but confess plainly that events have controlled me. If our sense of duty forbid slavery, then let us stand by our duty, fear- lessly and effectively. I hope peace will come soon and come to stay, and so come as to be worth the keeping in all future time. In giving freedom to the slaves we assure freedom to the free, honorable alike in what we give and what we preserve. 201 Thoughts For Memorizing Having thus chosen our course, without guile and with pure purpose, let us renew our trust in God and go forward without fear and with manly hearts. NATURE. Go forth under the open sky and list to Nature's teachings. Bryant. To him who in the love of nature holds communion with her visible forms, she speaks a various language. Bryant. No tears dim the sweet look that Nature wears. Longfellow. O, what a glory doth this world put on for him, who with a fervent heart, goes forth under the bright and glorious sky, and looks on duties well performed, and days well spent. Longfellow. Accuse not Nature, she hath done her part; do thou but thine. Milton. Let us a little permit Nature to take her own way ; she better under- stands her own affairs than we Montaigne . I care not, Fortune, what you me deny; You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace; You cannot shut the windows of the sky ; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve. Thomson. Nature never did betray the heart that loved her. Wordsworth. One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good That all the sages can. Wordsworth. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is a society where none intrudes By the deep sea and music in its roar. Byron. Keep a heart open to every voice from field and wood and sky. Ham- ilton W. Mabie. 202 Thoughts For Memorizing PATRIOTISM. America means opportunity. Emerson. Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable. Webster. Millions for defense, but not one cent for tribute! Pinckney. The patriot's boast, where'er we roam, His first, best country ever is at home. Goldsmith. Patriotism is not only a legitimate sentiment, but a duty. King. We join ourselves to no party that does not carry the flag and keep step to the music of the Union. Choate. There is a higher law than the Constitution. Seward. Where law ends, tyranny begins. Pitt. A poor freedom is better than rich slavery. Beecher. One country, one Constitution, one destiny. Webster. I regret I have but one life to live for my country. Nathan Hale. Let us have peace. U. S. Grant. Liberty cannot be established without morality, nor morality without faith. Greely. No flag is complete unless woven in its folds is the star of Bethle- hem. Harr Wagner. The noblest motive is the public good. Virgil. A great nation is made only by worthy citizens. C. D. Warner. Liberty is not the right of one, but of all. Herbert Spencer. Liberty is from God; liberties from the devil. Auerbach. Whether in chains or in laurels, liberty knows nothing but victories. Wendell Phillips. I have never advocated war except as a means of peace. U. S. Grant. Slow are the steps of freedom, but her steps never turn backward. Lowell. One on God's side is a majority. Wendell Phillips. 203 Thoughts For Memorizing I care not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death. Patrick Henry. \ Authority must not forget humanity. O'Reilly. A veteran of the war is dearer an<J nearer even than the flag. He is a living flag, starred and scarred. O'Reilly. I have met the enemy and he is ours. Commodore Perry. He serves his party best who serves his country best. Rutherford B. Hayes. The union of hearts, the union of hands; and flag of the Union for- ever. G. P. Morris. I require no guard but the affections of the people. Washington. Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God. Thomas Jefferson. By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood And fired the shot heard round the world. Emerson. Up with our banner bright, Sprinkled with starry light, Spread its fair emblems from mountain to shore, While through the sounding sky, Loud rings the nation's cry, Union and Liberty ! One evermore ! Holmes. The stability of this government and the unity of this nation, depend solely on the cordial support and the earnest loyalty of the people. U. 8. Grant. I was born an American, I live an American, I shall die an American ; and I intend to perform the duties incumbent upon me in that character to the end of my career. "WebsteKJ This nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom ; and that gov- ernment of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. Lincoln. 204 ...Highest Awards at Paris... The position of the American Book Company as the leading publishers of text books for Elementary Schools is universally recognized. It may not be so well known that they are also pre-eminent in High School publications. This fact, however, has just been attested at the ^ PARIS EXPOSITION^ where the International Jury awarded to this Company both the .... Grand Prix d'Honneur for Elementary Education ....AND THE.... Grand Prix d'Honneur for Secondary Schools ....ALSO.... Industrial and Commercial Education, Gold Medal Agricultural Education, Silver Medal Higher Education, - Silver Medal No other publishing house in the world has ever received so many recompenses of so high a character. For Circulars and Price Lists, Address, AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY New York Cincinnati Chicago 204 Pine Street, San Francisco. Fisk Teachers' Agencies BOYNTON & ESTERLY, Pacific Coast Managers 420 Parrott Building 525 Stimson Block San Francisco Los Angeles Call or Write CALVIN ESTERLY C. C. BOYNTON SCHOOL OFFICERS- who wish to obtain the best possible teachers should write us for papers. We recommend only those having first-class record. TEACHERS we are compiling a directory of the teachers of Cali- fornia. Kindly send particulars as to your prepara- tion and experience . No CHARGE . . , . . School Room Art and Decoration. Wall Pictures. These pictures vary in size from 12x17 to 20x26 inches and in price from 40 cents to $5.00. They are with few exceptions reproductions of the work of the recognized great artists, and when such is not the case have been chosen on account of their suggestive and illustrative value in connection with the reading and history work of the pupils . Mother Goose Pictures. These pictures, ten in number, by Lucy Fitch Perkins, continue to commend themselves to Kindergarten and primary teachers and to those desiring good colored pictures for the nursery. Nothing more suitable and interesting in subject and more artistic in execution has yet been published . Platinettes. To those not familiar with the 100 subjects already published, a complete list of titles and sample will be sent on application. Size about 7x9 inches. Other subjects are in process of preparation. How to Enjoy Pictures. A volume of 280 pages including 52 full page illustrations, mostly in fine half tone. No teacher in sympathy with the public school art movement, and who desires to have his pupils give some time to intelligent picture study, can afford to be without this book. It will open to him possibilities in the way of picture study through good reproductions, which will be a surprise to him, and which will enable him in turn to awaken an interest in and develop an apprecia- tion of good pictures on the part of others. Price, - $1.50 Special price to teachers and to clubs. For detailed information concerning the above, address. THE PRANG EDUCATIONAL COMPANY Boston Chicago New York The Fine Arts Building. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 1956 'D MLT? SLP241962 HtC'D LD-URB ro JUN1V76 t^ 301376 ;jECTD BY Form L9-100m-9,'52(A3105)444 wJL* 0**^$ /i -f -^ Rt THE LTBRA OF C ALIFORM uu. A 001 299555 1