Then heaven tries the earth if it be in tune,

And over it softly her warm ear lays;
Whether we look or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur or see it glisten;
Every clod feels a stir of might,

An instinct within it that reaches and towers
And, grasping blindly above it for light,
Climbs to a soul in grass and in flowers;
The flush of life may well be seen

Thrilling back over hills and valleys;
The cowslip startles in meadows green,

The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, And there's never a leaf or a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace; The little bird sits at his door in the sun, Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings; He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest,In the nice ear of Nature, which song is the best?

2

Now is the high-tide of the year,

And whatever of life hath ebbed away Comes flooding back, with a ripply cheer,

Into every bare inlet and creek and bay;

Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it,
We are happy now because God so wills it;
No matter how barren the past may have been,
'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green;

We sit in the warm shade and feel right well
How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell;
We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing
That skies are clear and grass is growing;
The breeze comes whispering in our ear,
That dandelions are blossoming near,

That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing:
That the river is bluer than the sky,

That the robin is plastering his house hard by,
And if the breeze kept the good news back,

For other couriers we should not lack;

We could guess it all by yon heifer's lowing,—
And hark! how clear bold chanticleer,

Warmed with the new wine of the year,
Tells all in his lusty crowing!

3

Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how;
Everything is happy now,

Everything is upward striving;

'Tis as easy now for the heart to be true, As for grass to be green or skies to be blue,'Tis the natural way of living;

Who knows whither the clouds have fled?

In the unscarred heavens they leave no wake, And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, The heart forgets its sorrow and ache; The soul partakes of the season's youth, And the sulphurous rifts of passion and woe Lie deep 'neath a silence pure and smooth, Like burnt-out craters healed with snow.

Right's Security

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Earnestness, strength, and directness should distinguish the ren dition of this poem. Note the climactic construction of the whole: the last stanza is the strongest of all, and the last line the strongest one in that stanza.

I

WHAT if the wind do howl without,
And turn the creaking weather-vane;
What if the arrows of the rain
Do beat against the window-pane?
Art thou not armored strong and fast
Against the sallies of the blast?

Art thou not sheltered safe and well
Against the flood's insistent swell?

2

What boots it, that thou stand'st alone,
And laughest in the battle's face

When all the weak have fled the place
And let their feet and fears keep pace?
Thou wavest still thine ensign high,
And shoutest thy loud battle-cry;
Higher than e'er the tempest roared,
It cleaves the silence like a sword.

3

Right arms and armors, too, that man
Who will not compromise with wrong;
Though single, he must front the throng
And wage the battle hard and long.

Minorities, since time began,

Have shown the better side of man;
And often in the lists of time

One man has made a cause sublime!

Columbus

Joaquin Miller

This is properly considered one of the great distinctively American poems. Note the determination and faith of the "Brave Adm'r'l" as shown in "Sail on!" etc., and emphasize it by contrasting it with the fear and doubt in the words of the "stout mate." Use clear, ringing tones on "Sail on!" Note especially the climax in the last stanza, which should be given with large volume and strong force.

I

BEHIND him lay the gray Azores,

Behind the Gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghost of shores,

Before him only shoreless seas.

The good mate said: "Now must we pray,
For lo! the very stars are gone.
Brave Adm'r'l, speak; what shall I say?"
"Why, say: 'Sail on! sail on! sail on!'"

2

"My men grow mutinous day by day;

My men grow ghastly wan and weak." The stout mate thought of home; a spray

Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. "What shall I say, brave Adm'r'l, say,

If we sight naught but seas at dawn?" "Why, you shall say at break of day:

'Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!'"

3

They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow,

Until at last the blanched mate said:
"Why, now not even God would know
Should I and all my men fall dead.
These very winds forget their way,
For God from these dread seas is gone.
Now speak, brave Adm'r'l, and say—”
He said: "Sail on! and on!"

4

They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate: "This mad sea shows his teeth to-night

He curls his lip, he lies in wait

With lifted teeth, as if to bite!

Brave Adm'r'l, say but one good word:
What shall we do when hope is gone?"
The words leapt like a leaping sword:
"Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!"

5

Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck,

And peered through darkness. Ah, that night Of all dark nights! And then a speck

A light! a light! a light! a light!

It grew, a starlit flag unfurled!

It grew to be Time's burst of dawn. He gained a world; he gave that world Its grandest lesson: "On! sail on!"