Written by
Edna St. Vincent Millay |
When will you learn, myself, to be
a dying leaf on a living tree?
Budding, swelling, growing strong,
Wearing green, but not for long,
Drawing sustenance from air,
That other leaves, and you not there,
May bud, and at the autumn's call
Wearing russet, ready to fall?
Has not this trunk a deed to do
Unguessed by small and tremulous you?
Shall not these branches in the end
To wisdom and the truth ascend?
And the great lightning plunging by
Look sidewise with a golden eye
To glimpse a tree so tall and proud
It sheds its leaves upon a cloud?
Here, I think, is the heart's grief:
The tree, no mightier than the leaf,
Makes firm its root and spreads it crown
And stands; but in the end comes down.
That airy top no boy could climb
Is trodden in a little time
By cattle on their way to drink.
The fluttering thoughts a leaf can think,
That hears the wind and waits its turn,
Have taught it all a tree can learn.
Time can make soft that iron wood.
The tallest trunk that ever stood,
In time, without a dream to keep,
Crawls in beside the root to sleep.
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Written by
Carl Sandburg |
DAYS of the dead men, Danny.
Drum for the dead, drum on your
remembering heart.
Jaurès, a great love-heart of France,
a slug of lead in the red valves.
Kitchener of Khartoum, tall, cold, proud,
a shark’s mouthful.
Franz Josef, the old man of forty haunted
kingdoms, in a tomb with the Hapsburg
fathers, moths eating a green uniform
to tatters, worms taking all and leaving
only bones and gold buttons, bones and
iron crosses.
Jack London, Jim Riley, Verhaeren, riders to the republic of dreams.
Days of the dead, Danny.
Drum on your remembering heart.
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Written by
Isaac Watts |
v.1-8
S. M.
The church is the honor and safety of a nation.
[Great is the Lord our God,
And let his praise be great;
He makes his churches his abode,
His most delightful seat.
These temples of his grace,
How beautiful they stand!
The honors of our native place,
And bulwarks of our land.]
In Zion God is known,
A refuge in distress;
How bright has his salvation shone
Through all her palaces!
When kings against her joined,
And saw the Lord was there,
In wild confusion of the mind
They fled with hasty fear.
When navies tall and proud
Attempt to spoil our peace,
He sends his tempests roaring loud,
And sinks them in the seas.
Oft have our fathers told,
Our eyes have often seen,
How well our God secures the fold
Where his own sheep have been.
In every new distress
We'll to his house repair;
We'll think upon his wondrous grace,
And seek deliv'rance there.
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