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HERE shall once the wan
derer weary Meet his resting-place and
Under palm-trees by the
Shall I somewhere in the desert
Owe my grave to stranger hands?
Rest at last beneath the sands?
'Tis no matter! God's wide heaven
Must surround me there as here;
THE ARROW AND THE SONG
SHOT an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not I
where; For, so swiftly it flew, the
sight Could not follow it in its flight.
I breathed a song into the air,
Long, long afterward, in an oak
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
AUF WIEDERSEHEN !
HE little gate was reached at
last, Half hid in lilacs down the
She pushed it wide, and as she past, A wistful look she backward cast,
And said, “Auf wiedersehen!
Lingered reluctant, and again
She said, “Auf wiedersehen!”
stair; I linger in delicious pain; Ah, in that chamber, whose rich air To breathe in thought I scarcely dare,
Thinks she, “Auf wiedersehen!” 'Tis thirteen years: once more I press
The turf that silences the lane;
Sweet piece of bashful maiden art!
-James Russell Lowell. “BREATHES THERE THE
REATHES there the man
with soul so dead Who never to himself hath
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, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall
down To the vile dust from whence he
sprung, Unwept, unhonored and unsung.
-Sir Walter Scott.