By: Lucy Larcom
This year, till late in April, the snow fell thick and light:
Thy truce-flag, friendly Nature, in clinging drifts of white,
Hung over field and city: now everywhere is seen,
In place of that white quietness, a sudden glow of green.
The verdure climbs the Common, beneath the leafless trees,
To where the glorious Stars and Stripes are floating on the breeze.
There, suddenly as Spring awoke from Winter’s snow-draped gloom,
The Passion-Flower of Seventy-six is bursting into bloom.
Dear is the time of roses, when earth to joy is wed,
And garden-plot and meadow wear one generous flush of red;
But now in dearer beauty, to her ancient colors true,
Blooms the old town of Boston in red and white and blue.
Along the whole awakening North are those bright emblems spread;
A summer noon of patriotism is burning overhead:
No party badges flaunting now, no word of clique or clan;
But “Up for God and Union!” is the shout of every man.
Oh, peace is dear to Northern hearts; our hard-earned homes more dear;
But freedom is beyond the price of any earthly cheer;
And freedom’s flag is sacred; he who would work it harm,
Let him, although a brother, beware our strong right arm!
A brother! ah, the sorrow, the anguish of that word!
The fratricidal strife begun, when will its end be heard?
Not this the boon that patriot hearts have prayed and waited for;—
We loved them, and we longed for peace: but they would have it war.
Yes; war! on this memorial day, the day of Lexington,
A lightning-thrill along the wires from heart to heart has run.
Brave men we gazed on yesterday, to-day for us have bled:
Again is Massachusetts blood the first for Freedom shed.
To war,—and with our brethren, then,—if only this can be!
Life hangs as nothing in the scale against dear Liberty!
Though hearts be torn asunder, for Freedom we will fight:
Our blood may seal the victory, but God will shield the Right!
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Imitation 6
The Twentieth of May
By Natalie Frenette
Is it hot, is it cold?
Oregon sure can’t decide.
The twentieth of May is right in between.
Rain, shine, cloudy, drizzly, beautiful, grey, hot.
The trees and flowers are almost in full bloom.
Allergies through the roof.
Oregon favors rain, it’s obvious.
But not enough to keep the pollen down.
April showers bring May flowers,
May flowers bring allergies.
Rain comes and goes as it pleases.
But then again, so does the sun.
There isn’t even a pattern to it anymore.
I can’t decide what I like better
Summer or spring.
Summer is lovely but I can’t breathe.
Spring is cold and rainy.
I feel happier in the summer
But I do like waking up to the sound of rain.
The twentieth of May, what an interesting day.
Not hot, not cold, not dry, not wet.
Somewhere in the middle.
This weather is so hard to keep up with.
But Oregon has my heart
Whether the weather is rain or sun.
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