V * o o z: o ^ ^irS*^ es. Author Title Imprint AN SeLIiCTIONS TROM V "^-^N i,9 89$. Washington, Lincoln and Bivant -^ EDITED WITH NOTES AND SUGGESTIONS FOR THE USE OF GRAMMAR AND HIGH SCHOOLS ^Y HARRY T. NIGHTINGALE INSTRUCTOR IN HISTORY AND ENGLISH, SOUTH DIVISION HIGH SCHOOL, CHICAGO, ILL. CHICAGO AINSWORTH & COMPANY 1898 i! (^^ Copyright, 1897, By AINSWORTH & COMPANY. All rights reserved. The Poems included in this volume are used by permission of IMessrs. D. Appleton & Co., the authorized pub- lishers of Bryant's Poems. Ipreas of •K. 1R. flOcdabc 8. do. Cbicaao ^ z^ ^T PREFACE. HIS little book contains five charming selections from the poems of William Cullen Bryant, Washington's Rules of Conduct, The Farewell Address to the American People and Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, all of which are required reading in the English Classics for the Second Term of the first year in the Chicago High Schools. We have also added the First Inaugural Address of the Mart3^red President. The selections are admirably adapted for reading and study in all Grammar and High Schools. Notes and Biographical Sketches have been omitted, as it is better to leave these to the inspiration of the teacher and the interest of the pupils. The selections from Bryant should be properly read and carefully analyzed in reference to their imager}^ metre, poetic beauty, botanical knowledge and the moral lesson involved, and made so attractive that pupils will be led to acquaint themselves more fully with America's greatest poet of nature. lyibraries abound with biographies of Washington and lyincoln, the two greatest characters in American history, and with orations and addresses concerning their influence in the two most critical periods in the life of the nation. 3 4 PREFACE. Some of these will, of course, be read and commented upon in class recitation as an important part of the exer- cises in connection with a more exhaustive study and analysis of what this book contains. Our young people cannot learn too much of these two great men, and every effort should be put forth by the teachers of 3"outh to induce them to study and imitate those traits of character which cause the people of all nations with one voice to call one "The Father," the other "The Saviour " of his country. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT November 3, 1794— June 12, 1878. I. ROBERT OF I.INCOI.N. II. TO A WATERFOWL. III. TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN. IV. WIND AND STREAM. V. CONQUEROR'S GRAVE. I^OBERT OF LINCOLN. ■ Gladness of woods, skies, waters, all in one, The Bobolink has come, and, like the soul Of the sweet season vocal in a bird, Gurgles in ecstacy we know not what Save June, dear June, now God be praised for June." IvOWELL. Read in Scribner's Monthly, volumes VI and XII, what John Burroughs says of the Song of the Bobolink. Note the minuteness of description and the power of condensed imagination in the poem. " Hast thou named all the birds without a gun, lyOved the wood-rose, and left it on its stalk." Emerson. M HRRILY swinging on brier and weed, Near to the nest of his httle dame, ' Over the mountain-side or mead, ■ Robert of Lincohi is telling his name : l Bob-o'-Hnk, bob-o'-Hnk, \ Spink, spank, spink ; Snug and safe is that nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest, .• Wearing a bright black wedding coat ; i White are his shoulders and white his crest, i Hear him call in his merry note : Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, l! Spink, spank, spink ; j ROBERT OF LINCOLN. Look, what a nice new coat is mine, Sure there was never a bird so fine. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, w^ith plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband sings : Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink ; Brood, kind creature ; you need not fear Thieves and robbers while I am here. Chee, chee, chee. Modest and shy as a nun is she ; One weak chirp is her only note. Braggart and prince of braggarts is he, Pouring boasts from his little throat : Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink ; Never was I afraid of man ; Catch me, cowardl}' knaves, if you can! Chee, chee, chee. Six white eggs on a bed of hay. Flecked with purple, a pretty sight ! There as the mother sits all day, Robert is singing with all his might : Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, vSpank, spink; Nice good wife, that never goes out, Keeping house while I frolic about. Chee, chee, chee. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. Soon as the little ones chip the shell, Six wide mouths are open for food ; Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seeds for the hungry brood. Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink ; This new life is likely to be Hard for a ga}^ j^oung fellow like me. Chee, chee, chee. Robert of Lincoln at length is made Sober with work, and silent with care ; Off is his holiday garment laid, Half forgotten that merry air : Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink ; Nobody knows but my mate and I Where our nest and our nestlings lie. Chee, chee, chee. Summer wanes ; the children are grown ; Fun and frolic no more he knows ; Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone ; Off he flies, and w^e sing as he goes : Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink ; When you can pipe that merry old strain, Robert of Lincoln, come back again. Chee, chee, chee. TO A WA TERFO WL. TO A WATERFOWL If possible, read in Parke Godwin's biography of Bryant what is said about the origin, or the inspiration of this poem, one of the most exquisite ever written, presenting as it does, in the simplest and almost monosyllabic language a most beautiful picture of the solitary wild duck speeding his way to some far away summer home. Notice, also, how instinctive with religious faith is the last strain. This is the burden of Bryant's music— to learn through nature the lessons of life. W HITHER, 'midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye I Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, j As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, j Thy figure floats along. i Seek'st thou the plashy brink •; Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, j Or where the rocking billows rise and sink \ On the chafed ocean side ? 3 \ There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast. The desert and illimitable air, Ivone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fann'd, j At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, ; Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, ] Though the dark night is near. lo WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. And soon that toil shall end ; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend, Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'tt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet, on my heart, Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, j And shall not soon depart. i He who, from zone to zone, 1 Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, | In the long way that I must tread alone, i Will lead ni}^ steps aright. ^ TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN. To appreciate this poem, one must know the habits of the flower, where it grows, the season of its blossoming, the time of day,| its color. What lessons of the importance of observation the poem teaches, and how far-reaching the thoughts to which the noting of the peculiar habits of the simplest flower gives rise. \ T HOU blossom, bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night. Thou comest not wdien violets lean O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen, Or columbines, in purple dressed, Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest. WIND AND STREAM. ii Thou waitest late, and com'st alone, When woods are bare and birds are flown. And frosts and shortening da3^s portend The aged Year is near his end. Then doth thy sweet and quiet e5'e I^ook through its fringes to the sky, Blue — blue — as if that sky let fall A flower from its cerulean wall. I would that thus, when I shall see The hour of death draw near to me, Hope, blossoming within my heart, May look at heaven as I depart. WIND AND STREAM. Here is the very essence of rhetorical personification. How happy is the httle child so flattered by its fleeting companion and how melancholy when left alone by the coquettish wanderer who 'softly stooped to kiss the stream." It is a charming bit of verse and should be read aloud to bring out all its meaning. A BROOK came stealing from the ground ; You scarcely saw its silvery gleam Among the herbs that hung around The borders of that winding stream, The pretty stream, the placid stream. The softly-gliding, bashful stream. A breeze came wandering from the sky, lyight as the whispers of a dream ; 1 2 WILLIAM CULLEN BR YANT. He put the o'erhanging grasses by, And softly stooped to kiss the stream, The pretty stream, the flattered stream, The shy, yet unreluctant stream. The water, as the wind passed o'er, Shot upward many a glancing b^m, Dimpled and quivered more and more, And tripped along, a livelier stream. The flattered stream, the simpering stream, The fond, delighted, sill}^ stream. Away the airy wanderer flew To where the fields with blossoms teem, To sparkling springs and rivers blue, And left alone that little stream. The flattered stream, the cheated stream, The sad, forsaken, lonely stream. That careless wind came never back ; He wanders yet the fields, I deem, But on its melancholy track, Complaining went that little stream. The cheated stream, the hopeless stream. The ever-murmuring, mourning stream. CONQ UEROR ' S GRA VE. 1 3 CONQUEROR'S GRAVE. ' The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. In this poem we are taught the love, patience, fidelity, sacri- fice and faith of pure womanhood. Our mothers are indeed the world's conquerors, and from the battles which they win comes the highest civilization. W ITHIN this lowly grave a Conqueror lies, And yet the monument proclaims it not, Nor round the sleeper's name hath chisel wrought The emblems of a fame that never dies, — Ivy and amaranth, in a graceful sheaf, Twined with the laurel's fair, imperial leaf. A simple name alone, To fhe great world unknown, Is graven here, and wild-flowers, rising round. Meek meadow-sweet and violets of the ground, I^ean lovingly against the humble stone. Here, in the quiet earth, they laid apart No man of iron mould and bloody hands, Who sought to wreak upon the cowering lands The passions that consumed his restless heart ; But one of tender spirit and delicate frame, Gentlest, in mien and mind, Of gentle womankind, Timidly shrinking from the breath of blame : One in whose eyes the smile of kindness made Its haunt, like flowers by sunny brooks in May, Yet, at the thought of others' pain, a shade Of sweeter sadness chased the smile away. 14 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. \ Nor deem that when the hand that moulders here ^ Was raised in menace, reahns was chilled with fear, And armies mustered at the sign, as when j Clouds rise on clouds before the rainy East — j Gray captains leading bands of veteran men i And fiery youths to be the vulture's feast. i Not thus were waged the mighty wars that gave The victor}^ to her that fills this grave : Alone her task was wrought, Alone the battle fought ; Through that long strife her constant hope was staid On God alone, nor looked for other aid. She met the hosts of Sorrow with a look That altered not beneath the frown they wore, And soon the lowering brood was tamed, and took, Meekly, her gentle rule, and frowned no more. Her soft hand put aside the assaults of wrath. And calmly broke in twain The fiery shafts of pain. And rent the nets of passion from her path. By that victorious hand despair w^as slain. With love she vanquished hate and overcame Evil wdth good, in her Great Master's name. Her glory is not of this shadowy state. Glory that with the fleeting season dies ; But when she entered at the sapphire gate What joy was radiant in celestial eyes ! How heaven's bright depths with sounding welcomes rung, And flowers of heaven by shining hands were flung ! CO NO UEROR ' ^ GRA VE. 15 And He, who long before, Pain, scorn and sorrow bore, The Mighty Sufferer, with aspect sweet, Smiled on the timid stranger from his seat ; He who returning, glorious, from the grave. Dragged Death, disarmed, in chains, a crouching slave. See, as I linger here, the sun grows low ; Cool airs are murmuring that the night is near. Oh, gentle sleeper, from thy grave I go Consoled though sad, in hope and yet in fear. Brief is the time, I know. The warfare scarce begun ; Yet all may win the triumphs thou hast won. Still flows the fount whose waters strengthened thee, The victors' names are yet too few to fill Heaven's mighty roll ; the glorious armory. That ministered to thee, is opened still. WASHINGTON February 22, 1732 — December 18, 1799. I. RULES OF CONDUCT. II. FAREWELL ADDRESS. 'Virginia gave us this imperial man, Cast in the massive mould Of those high-statured ages old, Which into grander forms our mortal metal ran ; Mother of states and undiminished men. Thou gavest us a country giving him." — I^OWELL, " Under the Old Elm. RULES OF CONDUCT. It must not be supposed that Washington was the author of these Rules, but that he copied them into his " writing book of thirty pages," which is still preserved, either from some other book, or as they were taught him by his parents. He was at this time about fourteen years of age, and they must have made a deep impression on his mind, as they are indices of his character and habits in his later years. If they seem simple, intuitive, quaint in language and somewhat useless as rules to be committed, we must remember the times in which the boy lived and all his environ- ments. Many of them, surely, are worth writing on the tablets of memory, and none of them are to be lightly set aside as unworthy the consideration of any boy or girl. They represent the thought concerning morals and manners of those who had the rearing of Washington in his youth, and since the "child is father of the man," every young person should heed them to-day. 1. Reproach none for the infirmities of nature, nor delight to put them that have, in mind thereof. 2. Superfluous compHments and all affectation of cere- ^ mony are to be avoided, yet where due they are not to be neglected. | 3. Do not express joy before one sick or in pain, for j that contrary passion will aggravate his misery. ] 4. Every action in company ought to be with some ; sign of respect to those present. ' 5. In the presence of others sing not to yourself with i a humming noise, nor drum with your fingers or feet. 6. Sleep not when others speak, sit not when others ] stand, speak not when you should hold your peace, walk j not when others stop. .j RULES OF CONDUCT. 19 7. Turn not your back to others, especially in speak- ing ; jog not the table or desk on which another reads or writes ; lean not on any one. 8. Be no flatterer ; neither play with an}^ one that de- lights not to be played with. 9. Read no letters, books or papers in company; but when there is a necessity for doing it, you must ask leave. Come not near the books or writings of any one so as to read them, unless desired, nor give your opinion of them unasked ; also, look not nigh when another is writing a letter. 10. IvCt 3'our countenance be pleasant, but in serious matters somewhat grave. 11. Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of an- other, though he were your enemy. 12. Run not in the streets, neither go too slowly nor with mouth open. Go not shaking your arms, stamping or shuffling ; nor pull up your stockings in the street. Walk not upon the toes, nor in a dancing or skipping manner, nor yet with measured steps, Strike not the heels together, nor stoop when there is no occasion. 13. Eat not in the streets, nor in the house out of season. 14. A man ought not to value himself of his achieve- ments or rare qualities, his riches, titles, virtue or kin- dred ; but he need not speak meanl}^ of himself. 15. When you meet with one of greater quality than yourself, stop and retire, especially if it be at a door or any strait place, to give way for him to pass. 16. While you are talking, point not with 3'our finger at him of whom you discourse, nor approach too near him to whom you talk, especially to his face. 20 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 17. They that are in dignit}^ or in office, have in all places precedency ; but whilst they are young they ought to respect those that are their equals in birth or other qualities, though they have no public charge. 18. It is good manners to prefer them to whom we speak before ourselves, especially if they be above us, with whom in no sort we ought to begin. 19. Let your discourse with men of business be short and comprehensive. 20. In visiting the sick, do not presently play the physician if you be not knowing therein. 21. Be not tedious in discourse or reading, unless j^ou find the company pleased therewith. 22. In writing, or speaking, give to every person his due title, according to his degree and the custom of the place. 23. Strive not with your vSuperiors in argument, but always submit 3'our judgment to others w^ith modesty. 24. Undertake not to teach your equal in the art he "\iimself professes : it savors of arrogancy. 25. When a man does all he can, though it succeeds not well, blame not him that did it. 26. Being to advise, or reprehend au}^ one, consider whether it ought to be in public or in private, presently or at some other timCj. and in what terms to do it ; and in reproving show no signs of clioler, but do it with sweet- ness and mildness. 27. Take all admonitions thankfull}^ in what time or place soever given ; but afterwards, not being culpable, take a time and place convenient to let him know it that gave them. RULES OF CONDUCT. 21 28. Drink not, nor talk, with your mouth full, neither gaze about 3'ou while 3'ou are drinking. 29. Mock not, nor jest at an^'thing of importance ; break no jests that are sharp-biting, and if you deliver an3^thing witt}" or pleasant, abstain from laughing thereat yourself. 30. Wherein you reprove another be unblamable 3'our- self ; for example is more prevalent than precept. 31. Use no reproachful language against any one, neither curse nor revile. 32. If you cough, sneeze, sigh or 3- awn, do it not loud, but privatel3' ; and speak not in your yawning, but put 3^our handkerchief or hand before your face, and turn aside. 33. Be not hast3^ to believe flying reports to the dis- paragement of 2,\\y. 34. When 3'Ou sit down, keep your feet firm and even, without putting one on the other or crossing them. 35. In your apparel be modest, and endeavor to ac- commodate nature, rather than to procure admiration ; keep to the fashion of 3^our equals, such as are civil and orderly with respect to times and places. 36. Play not the peacock, looking everywhere about 3"0U to see if you be well decked, if 3^our shoes fit well, if 3^our stockings fit neatl3', and clothes handsomely. 37. x\ssociate 3'ourself with men of good qualit3', if you esteem your own reputation, for it is better to be alone than in bad compan3\ 38. L