The Biglow Papers, Volume 1

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1885 - American poetry - 198 pages
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Page 285 - The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out Towards the pootiest, bless her, An' leetle flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser. Agin the chimbley crook-necks hung, An' in amongst 'em rusted The ole queen's-arm thet gran'ther Young Fetched back from Concord busted. The very room, coz she was in, Seemed warm from floor to ceilin', An' she looked full ez rosy agin Ez the apples she was peelin'.
Page 350 - Brown foundlin' o' the woods, whose baby-bed Was prowled roun' by the Injun's cracklin' tread, An' who grew'st strong thru shifts an
Page 361 - It is a shameful and unblessed thing to take the scum of people, and wicked condemned men, to be the people with whom you plant; and not only so, but it spoileth the plantation; for they will ever live like rogues, and not fall to work, but be lazy, and do mischief, and spend victuals, and be quickly weary, and then certify over to their country to the discredit of the plantation.
Page 431 - An' settlin' things in windy Congresses, — Queer politicians, though, for I '11 be skinned Ef all on 'em don't head aginst the wind, 'fore long the trees begin to show belief, — The maple crimsons to a coral-reef, Then saffern swarms swing off from all the willers So plump they look like yaller caterpillars, Then gray hossches'nuts leetle hands unfold Softer "na baby's be at three days old: Thet 's robin - redbreast's almanick; he knows Thet arter this ther' 's only blossom-snows; So, choosin'...
Page 360 - Judge not the preacher; for he is thy judge. If thou mislike him, thou conceiv'st him not. God calleth preaching, folly. Do not grudge To pick out treasures from an earthen pot. The worst speak something good. If all want sense, God takes a text, and preacheth patience.
Page 432 - In ellu'm-shrouds the flashin' hangbird clings An' for the summer vy'ge his hammock slings; All down the loose-walled lanes in archin' bowers The barb'ry droops its strings o' golden flowers, Whose shrinkin' hearts the school-gals love to try With pins, — they'll worry yourn so, boys, bimeby!
Page 483 - Under the yaller-pines I house, When sunshine makes 'em all sweet-scented, An' hear among their furry boughs The baskin' west-wind purr contented, While 'way o'erhead, ez sweet an...
Page 299 - But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee ; and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee...
Page 426 - GENTLEMEN, — At the special request of Mr. Biglow, I intended to inclose, together with his own contribution, (into which, at my suggestion, he has thrown a little more of pastoral sentiment than usual,) some passages from my sermon on the day of the National Fast, from the text, " Remember them that are in bonds, as bound with them,
Page 288 - I'd better call agin;" Says she, "Think likely, Mister;" Thet last word pricked him like a pin, An' .... wal, he up an' kist her. When ma bimeby upon 'em slips, Huldy sot pale ez ashes, All kin' o' smily roun' the lips An' teary roun

About the author (1885)

James Russell Lowell (February 22, 1819 - August 12, 1891) was an American Romantic poet, critic, editor, and diplomat. He is associated with the Fireside Poets, a group of New England writers. But Lowell's real strengths as a writer are better found in his prose essays than in his verse. A man great in literary learning (he was professor of belles-lettres at Harvard College for many years), wise and passionate in his commitments, he was a great upholder of tradition and value. His essays on the great writers of England and Europe still endure, distinguished not only by their astute insights into the literary classics of Western culture, but also by their spectacular style and stunning wit. Lowell graduated from Harvard College in 1838 and went on to earn a law degree from Harvard Law School. He published his first collection of poetry in 1841. Nor was Lowell merely a dweller in an ivory tower. In his youth, he worked passionately for the cause of abolition, risking his literary reputation for a principle that he saw as absolute. In his middle years, he was founding editor of the Atlantic Monthly and guided it during its early years toward its enormous success. In his final years, this great example of American character and style represented the United States first as minister to Spain (1877--80), and afterwards to Great Britain (1880--85). Lowell was married twice: First to the poet Mary White Lowell, who died of tuberculosis, and second to Frances Dunlap. He died on August 12, 1891, at his home, Elmwood. He was buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery.

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