Stops Of Various Quills. William Dean Howells

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      Stops Of Various Quills

      WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS

      

      

      

       Stops of various quills, W. D. Howells

       Jazzybee Verlag Jürgen Beck

       86450 Altenmünster, Loschberg 9

       Deutschland

      

       ISBN: 9783849657628

      

       www.jazzybee-verlag.de

       [email protected]

      

      

      CONTENTS:

       NOVEMBER.. 1

       MIDWAY.. 1

       TIME.. 2

       FROM GENERATION TO GENERATION... 3

       THE BEWILDERED GUEST.. 4

       COMPANY.. 4

       HEREDITY.. 5

       TWELVE P.M. 6

       CHANGE.. 6

       IN THE DARK.. 7

       TOMORROW... 7

       LIVING... 7

       IF. 8

       SOLITUDE.. 8

       RESPITE.. 9

       QUESTION... 9

       HOPE.. 10

       THE BURDEN... 10

       CALVARY.. 11

       CONSCIENCE.. 11

       REWARD AND PUNISHMENT.. 11

       SYMPATHY.. 12

       STATISTICS. 12

       PARABLE.. 13

       VISION... 14

       SOCIETY.. 15

       GOOD SOCIETY.. 16

       FRIENDS AND FOES. 16

       SPHINX.. 16

       MATERIALS OF A STORY.. 17

       THE KING DINES. 19

       LABOR AND CAPITAL.. 20

       EQUALITY.. 21

       JUDGMENT DAY.. 21

       MORTALITY.. 22

       ANOTHER DAY.. 23

       SOMEONE ELSE.. 24

       LIFE.. 24

       WEATHER-BREEDER.. 25

       PEONAGE.. 25

       RACE.. 26

       TEMPERAMENT.. 28

       WHAT SHALL IT PROFIT?. 28

      NOVEMBER

      A WEFT of leafless spray

      Woven fine against the gray

      Of the autumnal day,

      And blurred along those ghostly garden tops

      Clusters of berries crimson as the drops

      That my heart bleeds when I remember

      How often, in how many a far November,

      Of childhood and my children's childhood I was glad,

      With the wild rapture of the Fall,

      Of all the beauty, and of all

      The ruin, now so intolerably sad.

      MIDWAY

      O blithe the birds sang in the trees,

      The trees sang in the wind,

      I winged me with the morning breeze,

      And left Care far behind.

      But now both birds and trees are mute

      In the hot hush of noon;

      And I must up and on afoot,

      Or Care will catch me soon.

      TIME

      O you wish me, then, away?

      You should rather bid me stay:

      Though I seem so dull and slow,

      Think before you let me go!

      Whether