A Name in the Sand. "A Name in the Sand," by Hannah Flagg Gould (1789-1865), is a poem to correct our ready overestimate of our own importance. ALONE I walked the ocean strand; And so, methought, 'twill shortly be Will sweep across the place And yet, with Him who counts the sands Of all this mortal part has wrought, HANNAH FLAGG GOULD. PART VI. "Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made." PART VI. The Voice of Spring. "The Voice of Spring," by Felicia Hemans (1749-1835), becomes attractive as years go on. The line in this poem that captivated my youthful fancy was: "The larch has hung all his tassels forth." The delight with which trees hang out their new little tassels every year is one of the charms of "the pine family." John Burroughs sent us down a tiny hemlock, that grew in our window-box at school for five years, and every spring it was a new joy on account of the fine, tender tassels. Mrs. Hemans had a vivid imagination backed up by an abundant information. I COME, I have breathed on the South, and the chestnutflowers By thousands have burst from the forest bowers, I have looked o'er the hills of the stormy North, And the larch has hung all his tassels forth; The fisher is out on the sunny sea, And the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free, And the pine has a fringe of softer green, And the moss looks bright, where my step has been. I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh, From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain; They are sweeping on to the silvery main, The Forsaken Merman. "The Forsaken Merman," by Matthew Arnold (1822-88), is a poem that I do not expect children to appreciate fully, even when they care enough for it to learn it. It is too long for most children to commit to memory, and I generally assign one stanza to one pupil and another to another pupil until it is divided up among them. The poem is a masterpiece. Doubtless the poet meant to show that the forsaken merman had a greater soul to save than the woman who sought to save her soul by deserting natural duty. Salvation does not come through the faith that builds itself at the expense of love. COME, dear children, let us away; Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great winds shoreward blow, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. This way, this way! |