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American elm army Atlantic Monthly banner battle beneath blood Boston boys Breakfast-Table bright broomsticks Brownists called Camp Curtin Captain cars church Cleveland County companion dead England eyes fair fair plain fast father feeling fellow fire flame Flower of Liberty Frederick gleam green Hagerstown hand Harrisburg hear heard heart hills Holmes horse hour hundred James Grayden Keedysville knew lady land leaves legs light limbs lips living looked lying Massachusetts Middletown morning never night o'er OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES once one-hoss shay Paper Nautilus passed Phi Beta Kappa Philadelphia poem Rebel road round seemed side slumbers smile soldiers soul stand stood story stream streets talk tall tell thee Thomas Paine thou thought tion told town track train tree wagon walk wave Whigs witches wonder wounded young
Page 82 - Little of all we value here Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year Without both feeling and looking queer. In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth, So far as I know, but a tree and truth.
Page 68 - 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.
Page 84 - At half past nine by the meet'n'-house clock,— Just the hour of the Earthquake shock! —What do you think the parson found, When he got up and stared around? The poor old chaise in a heap or mound, As if it had been to the mill and ground! You see, of course, if you're not a dunce, How it went to pieces all at once,— All at once, and nothing first,— Just as bubbles do when they burst.
Page 81 - Is only jest t' make that place uz strong uz the rest." So the Deacon inquired of the village folk Where he could find the strongest oak, That couldn't be split nor bent nor broke— That was for spokes and floor and sills; He sent for lancewood to make the thills; The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees, The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, But lasts like iron for things like these; The hubs...
Page 68 - 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!
Page 81 - Now in building of chaises, I tell you what, There is always somewhere a weakest spot, — In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill, In panel, or crossbar, or floor, or sill, In screw, bolt, thoroughbrace, — lurking still...
Page 68 - This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, 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.
Page 82 - EIGHTEEN HUNDRED; — it came and found The Deacon's masterpiece strong and sound. Eighteen hundred increased by ten; "Hahnsum kerridge
Page 81 - So the Deacon inquired of the village folk Where he could find the strongest oak, That couldn't be split nor bent nor broke, That was for spokes and floor and sills; He sent for lancewood to make the thills; The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees, The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, But lasts like iron for things like these; The hubs of logs from the 'Settler's ellum...