ll lent its Christian tone 30
To the savage air; no social smoke
Curled over woods of snow-hung oak;
A solitude made more intense
By dreary-voiced elements--
The shrieking of the mindless wind,
The moaning tree boughs swaying blind, 5
And on the glass the unmeaning beat
Of ghostly finger tips of sleet.
--_Snow-Bound._
1. Outline, stanza by stanza, the story told. Who
tells it? Where is the scene laid? How many days
and nights are covered?
2. Compare this with the previous poem for
clearness, pleasant sound, pictures shown, new
ideas. Which do you like better? The last line of
"The Snowstorm" interprets lines 14-25, page 197.
How?
3. John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892) was born at
Haverhill, Massachusetts. _Snow-bound_, from which
this extract is taken, gives a good description of
his home and family. A great deal of his writing
was done while editor of various magazines and
newspapers. He was for a long time connected with
the _Atlantic Monthly_. Many of his poems describe
country life in New England; others retell old
stories of pioneer days. He died at Amesbury,
Massachusetts.
TOM PINCH'S RIDE
BY CHARLES DICKENS
It was a charming evening, mild and bright. The four
grays skimmed along, as if they liked it quite as well
as Tom did; the bugle was in as high spirits as the grays;
the coachman chimed in sometimes with his voice; the
wheels hummed cheerfully in unison; the brass work on 5
the harness was an orchestra of little bells; and thus as they
went clinking, jingling, rattling smoothly on, the whole
concern, from the buckles of the leaders' coupling reins to
the handle of the boot, was one great instrument of music.
Yo-ho! Past hedges, gates, and trees; past cottages, and
barns, and people going home from work. Yo-ho! Past
donkey chaises drawn aside into the ditch, and empty
carts with rampant horses whipped up at a bound upon the
little watercourse and held by struggling carters close to 5
the five-barred gate until the coach had passed the narrow
turning in the road. Yo-ho! By churches dropped down
by themselves in quie
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