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Various
Graded Memory Selections
TO A SKYLARK
Hail to thee, blithe spirit—
Bird thou never wert—
That from heaven, or near it
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest,
Like a cloud of fire:
The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
In the golden lightning
Of the setting sun,
O’er which clouds are bright’ning,
Thou dost float and run;
Like an embodied joy whose race is just begun.
The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight;
Like a star of heaven,
In the broad daylight,
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight.
Keen as are the arrows
Of that silvery sphere,
Whose intense lamp narrows
In the white dawn clear,
Until we hardly see, we feel, that it is there.
All the earth and air
With thy voice is loud,
As, when night is bare,
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflow’d.
What thou art we know not;
What is most like thee!
From rainbow clouds there flow not
Drops so bright to see,
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
Like a poet hidden
In the light of thought,
Singing hymns unbidden,
Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not;
Like a high-born maiden
In a palace tower,
Soothing her love-laden
Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower;
Like a glow-worm golden,
In a dell of dew,
Scattering unbeholden
Its aerial hue
Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view;
Like a rose embowered
In its own green leaves,
By warm winds deflower’d,
Till the scent it gives
Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves.
Sound of vernal showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awakened flowers,
All that ever was
Joyous, and fresh and clear, thy music doth surpass.
Teach us, sprite or bird,
What sweet thoughts are thine;
I have never heard
Praise of lore or wine
That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
Chorus hymeneal,
Or triumphant chant,
Match’d with thine, would be all
But an empty vaunt—
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.
What object are the fountains
Of thy happy strain?
What fields, or waves, or mountains?
What shapes of sky or plain?
What love of thine own kind? What ignorance of pain?
With thy clear, keen joyance
Languor cannot be;
Shadow of annoyance
Never came near thee;
Thou lovest, but ne’er knew love’s sad satiety.
Waking, or asleep,
Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?
We look before and after,
And pine for what is not;
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride and fear,
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know,
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow,
The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
—Percy Bysshe Shelley.
THE LAUNCHING OF THE SHIP
Then the Master,
With a gesture of command,
Waved his hand;
And at the word,
Loud and sudden there was heard,
All around them and below,
The sound of hammers, blow on blow,
Knocking away the shores and spurs.
And see! she stirs!
She starts—she moves—she seems to feel
The thrill of life along her keel,
And, spurning with her foot the ground,
With one exulting, joyous bound,
She leaps into the ocean’s arms!
And lo! from the assembled crowd
There rose a shout, prolonged and loud,
That to the ocean seemed to say,
“Take her, O bridegroom, old and gray.
Take her to thy protecting arms,
With all her youth and all her charms!”
How beautiful she is! How fair
She lies within those arms, that press
Her form with many a soft caress
Of tenderness and watchful care!
Sail forth into the sea, O ship!
Through wind and wave, right onward steer!
The moistened eye, the trembling lip,
Are not the signs of doubt or fear.
Sail forth into the sea of life,
O gentle, loving, trusting wife,
And safe from all adversity
Upon the bosom of that sea
Thy comings and thy goings be!
For gentleness and love and trust
Prevail o’er angry wave and gust;
And in the wreck of noble lives
Something immortal still survives!
Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
We know what Master laid thy keel,
What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,
Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,
What anvils rang, what hammers beat,
In what a forge and what a heat
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Fear not each sudden sound and shock,
’Tis of the wave and not the rock;
’Tis but the flapping of the sail,
And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest’s roar,
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o’er our fears,
Are all with thee,—are all with thee!
—Longfellow.
RECESSIONAL
God of our fathers, known of old—
Lord of our far-flung battle line—
Beneath Whose awful Hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies—
The captains and the kings depart,
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
Far-called our navies melt away—
On dune and headland sinks the fire—
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe—
Such boasting as the Gentiles use,
Or lesser breeds without the Law—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard—
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding calls not Thee to guard—
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy mercy on Thy people, Lord!
Amen.
—Kipling.
THE LADDER OF ST. AUGUSTINE
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we will but tread
Beneath our feet each deed of shame.
All common things, each day’s events,
That with the hour begin and end,
Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.
The low desire, the base design,
That makes another’s virtues less;
The revel of the ruddy wine,
And all occasions of excess;
The longing for ignoble things;
The strife for triumph more than truth;
The hardening of the heart, that brings
Irreverence for the dreams of youth;
All thoughts of ill; all evil deeds,
That have their root in thoughts of ill;
Whatever hinders or impedes
The action of the nobler will.
All these must first be trampled down
Beneath our feet, if we would gain
In the bright fields of fair renown
The right of eminent domain.
We have not wings, we cannot soar;
But we have feet to scale and climb
By slow degrees, by more and more,
The cloudy summits of our time.
The mighty pyramids of stone
That wedge-like cleave the desert airs,
When nearer seen, and better known,
Are but gigantic flights of stairs.
The distant mountains, that uprear
Their solid bastions to the skies,
Are crossed by pathways, that appear
As we to higher levels rise.
The heights by great men reached and kept
Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they, while their companions slept,
Were toiling upward in the night.
Standing on what too long we bore
With shoulders bent and downcast eyes,
We may discern—unseen before—
A path to higher destinies.
Nor deem the irrevocable Past
As wholly wasted, wholly vain,
If, rising on its wrecks, at last
To something nobler we attain.
—Longfellow.
THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS.35
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.
Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;
Wrecked is the ship of pearl!
And every chambered cell,
Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell,
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,
Before thee lies revealed,—
Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed!
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.
Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,
Child of the wandering sea.
Cast from her lap, forlorn!
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn!
While on mine ear it rings,
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!
—Oliver Wendell Holmes.
PRESIDENT WILLIAM McKINLEY
To the Young People of Oakland, Cal.
May 24, 1901
“There is nothing better for the United States than Educated Citizenship; and, my young friends, there never was a time in all our history when knowledge was so essential to success as now. Everything requires knowledge. What we want of the young people now is exact knowledge. You want to know whatever you undertake to do a little better than anybody else. And if you will do that, then there is nothing that is not within your reach.
And what you want besides education is Character—Character! There is nothing that will serve a young man or an old man so well as good character. And did you ever think that it is just as easy to form a good habit as it is to form a bad one; and it is just as hard to break a good habit as it is to break a bad one? So get the good ones and keep them. With Education and Character you will not only achieve individual success, but you will contribute largely to the progress of your country.”
BRIEF MEMORY GEMS AND PROVERBS
FIRST AND SECOND GRADES
If at first you don’t succeed,
Try, try again.
Be kind and be gentle
To those who are old,
For dearer is kindness
And better than gold.
Sing, pretty birds, and build your nests,
The fields are green, the skies are clear;
Sing, pretty birds, and build your nests,
The world is glad to have you here.
A friend in need is a friend indeed.
If a task is once begun,
Never leave it till it’s done;
Be the labor great or small,
Do it well or not at all.
Whatever way the wind doth blow,
Some heart is glad to have it so,
So blow it east, or blow it west,
The wind that blows—that wind is best.
Dare to do right! dare to be true!
For you have a work no other can do;
Do it so bravely, so kindly, so well,
Angels will hasten the story to tell.
To do to others as I would
That they should do to me
Will make me honest, kind and good,
As children ought to be.
God make my life a little light,
Within the world to glow:
A little flame that burneth bright
Wherever I may go.
Better be an hour too early than a minute too late.
“Help one another,” the snowflakes said,
As they cuddled down in their fleecy bed,
“One of us here would not be felt,
One of us here would quickly melt;
But I’ll help you and you help me,
And then what a splendid drift there’ll be.”
By-and-by is a very bad boy,
Shun him at once and forever;
For they who travel with By-and-by
Soon come to the house of Never.
Politeness is to do and say
The kindest things in the kindest way.
And isn't it, my boy or girl,
The wisest, bravest plan,
Whatever comes, or doesn't come,
To do the best you can?
THIRD AND FOURTH GRADES
Beautiful hands are those that do
Work that is earnest, brave and true
Moment by moment, the long day through.
Kind hearts are gardens,
Kind thoughts are roots,
Kind words are blossoms,
Kind deeds are fruits;
Love is the sweet sunshine
That warms into life,
For only in darkness
Grow hatred and strife.
Be good, dear child, and let who will be clever;
Do noble deeds, not dream them all day long;
And so make life, death, and that vast forever
One grand, sweet song.
—Kingsley.
Whene’er a task is set for you
Don’t idly sit and view it,—
Nor be content to wish it done;
Begin at once and do it.
Look up and not down, look forward and not back, look out and not in, and lend a hand.
—Hale.
This world is not so bad a world
As some would like to make it;
Though whether good or whether bad,
Depends on how we take it.
—M. W. Beck.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
—Longfellow.
Dare to be true, nothing can need a lie; A fault which needs it most grows two thereby.
—George Herbert.
If wisdom’s ways you’d wisely seek,
Five things observe with care,—
Of whom you speak, to whom you speak,
And how, and when, and where.
Cowards are cruel, but the brave
Love mercy, and delight to save.
—Gay.
If there is a virtue in the world at which we should always aim, it is cheerfulness.
—Bulwer Lytton.
’Tis distance lends enchantment to the view
And clothes the mountain with its azure hue.
—Campbell.
Give fools their gold and knaves their power,
Let fortune’s bubble rise and fall;
Who sows a field, or trains a flower,
Or plants a tree is more than all.
—Whittier.
Our to-days and yesterdays
Are the blocks with which we build.
—Longfellow.
Too low they build who build beneath the stars.
—Young.
Errors, like straws upon the surface flow;
He who would seek for pearls must dive below.
—Dryden.
The cross, if rightly borne, shall be
No burden, but support to thee.
—Whittier.
Oh, deem it not an idle thing
A pleasant word to speak;
The face you wear, the thoughts you bring,
A heart may heal or break.
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,—
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.
One by one thy duties wait thee,
Let thy whole strength go to each;
Let no future dreams elate thee,—
Learn thou first what these can teach.
FIFTH AND SIXTH GRADES
Count that day lost whose low descending sun
Views from thy hand no worthy action done.
—Robart.
Honor and shame from no condition rise;
Act well your part; there all the honor lies.
—Pope.
Success does not consist in never making blunders, but in never making the same one a second time.
—Shaw.
Whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well.
—Chesterfield.
One cannot always be a hero, but one can always be a man.
—Goethe.
The heights by great men reached and kept,
Were not attained by sudden flight;
But they, while their companions slept,
Were toiling upward in the night.
—Longfellow.
All that’s great and good is done
Just by patient trying.
—Phœbe Cary.
No star is lost we ever once have seen:
We always may be what we might have been.
—Adelaide Proctor.
Often in a wooden house a golden room we find.
—Longfellow.
Too much of joy is sorrowful,
So cares must needs abound,
The vine that bears too many flowers
Will trail upon the ground.
—Alice Cary.
Life is too short for aught but high endeavor.
—Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first.
—Shakespeare.
Cloud and sun together make the year;
Without some storms no rainbow could appear.
—Alice Cary.
The noblest service comes from nameless hands,
And the best servant does his work unseen.
—Oliver Wendell Holmes.
He who seeks to pluck the stars
Will lose the jewels at his feet.
—Phœbe Cary.
For he who is honest is noble,
Whatever his fortunes or birth.
—Alice Cary.
There’s never a leaf or a blade too mean
To be some happy creature’s palace.
—James Russell Lowell.
No endeavor is in vain.
Its reward is in the doing;
And the rapture of pursuing
Is the prize the vanquished gain.
—Longfellow.
Press on! if once and twice thy feet
Slip back and stumble, harder try.
—Benjamin.
Dare to do right; dare to be true;
The failings of others can never save you;
Stand by your conscience, your honor, your faith—
Stand like a hero, and battle till death!
He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh a city.
—Bible.
He prayeth best who loveth best
All things, both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.
—Coleridge.
Hours are golden links, God’s token,
Reaching heaven, but one by one
Take them; lest the chain be broken
Ere the pilgrimage be done.
—A. A. Proctor.
There is a lesson in each flower,
A story in each stream and bower;
On every herb on which we tread,
Are written words which, rightly read,
Will lead us from earth’s fragrant sod
To hope and holiness and God.
Oh, many a shaft at random sent,
Finds mark the archer little meant!
And many a word at random spoken,
May soothe, or wound, a heart that’s broken.
—Scott.
SEVENTH AND EIGHTH GRADES
To thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
—Shakespeare.
Be noble! and the nobleness that lies
In other men, sleeping but never dead,
Will rise in majesty to meet thine own.
—Lowell.
What must of necessity be done, you can always find out how to do.
—Ruskin.
He fails not who makes truth his cause,
Nor bends to win the crowd’s applause,
He fails not—he who stakes his all
Upon the right and dares to fall.
—Richard Watson Gilder.
Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,—act in the living Present!
Heart within and God o’erhead!
—Longfellow.
Tell me not in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
—Longfellow.
Be just and fear not; let all the ends thou aimest at, be thy country’s, thy God’s, and truth’s.
—Shakespeare.
For of all sad words of tongue or pen—
The saddest are these: “It might have been!”
—Whittier.
Truth crushed to earth shall rise again;
The eternal years of God are hers;
But error, wounded, writhes with pain,
And dies among his worshippers.
—Bryant.
Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies;—
Hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower,—but if I could understand
What you are, root and all—and all in all,
I should know what God and man is.
—Tennyson.
Life is the beat possible thing we can make of it.
—Curtis.
Without a sign his sword the brave man draws,
And asks no omen but his country’s cause.
—Pope.
There’s a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.
—Shakespeare.
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take up arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing, end them?
—Shakespeare.
Whatever makes men good Christians, makes them good citizens.
—Webster.
Our grand business is, not to see what lies dimly at a distance, but to do what lies clearly at hand.
—Thomas Carlyle.
With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right.
—Lincoln.
Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
—Gray.
35. Copyrighted by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. Reprinted by permission of the publishers.