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Literature

Because I do not hope to turn again Because I do not hope Because I do not hope to turn Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope I no longer strive to strive towards such things (Why should the aged eagle...
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The beauty of fairy tales is their ability to attractively depict character and virtue. Goodness glimmers while wickedness and deception are unmasked... Today’s offering in our Timeless Essay series affords readers the opportunity to join Vigen Guroian as he explores the benefits fairy tales afford children. —W. Winston Elliott III, Publisher
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'Tis death! and peace, indeed, is here, And ease from shame, and rest from fear. There's nothing can dismarble now The smoothness of that limpid brow. But is a calm like this, in truth, The crowning end of life and youth, And when this...
0 164

Flannery O’Connor made it her task to show her readers that the world is surrounded by mystery and that the physical creation is itself an icon and a window into that mystery... “What...
1 267

It is difficult to imagine great shifts in politics without great poetry informing them... Students at Wyoming Catholic College memorize many poems in the four years of the humanities curriculum, but few...
3 194

Modern man thinks poetry a waste of time. He doesn’t know the difference between that which takes time and that which wastes it... What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, You cannot say, or guess, for you know...
2 527

Reading with leisure means reading is not about me; it’s about giving my faculties over to the contemplation of a work that's worthy in its own right... Early in January, several of us on the faculty...
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Despair alone Could show me so divine a thing, Where feeble Hope could ne’er have flown But vainly flapped its Tinsel wing. And yet I quickly might arrive Where my extended soul is fixt, But Fate does iron wedges drive, And always crowds itself...
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Nothing is so beautiful as Spring– When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing; The glassy...
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To ask boys and girls to read Tom Sawyer nowadays may be perceived as cruelty to children. To ask adults to take the book seriously is to risk being called a racist. As with most liberal learning, Tom Sawyer is slowly being relegated to university studies. This...
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Thou ill-form’d offspring of my feeble brain, Who after birth didst by my side remain, Till snatched from thence by friends, less wise than true, Who thee abroad, expos’d to publick view, Made thee in raggs, halting to th’ press to trudge, Where...
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The kind of freedom people speak of today is more likely than not something more than emancipation from political tyranny. It is freedom from social custom, from tradition, from the created order, freedom from God. And for this troubling illusion, we may in part thank James...
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Caesar has crossed the Alps, his mighty soul Great tumults pondering and the coming shock. Now on the marge of Rubicon, he saw, In face most sorrowful and ghostly guise, His trembling country's image; huge it seemed Through mists of night obscure; and hoary...
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The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood, Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it. And from there those that lifted eyes could count Five mountain ranges one behind the other Under the...