Tuesday, August 29, 2017

The Fourth of July

The Fourth of July 
by Charles Leonard Moore

Let be the herds and what the harvest brings ;
Give to oblivion all that's sold and bought,
The count of unrememberable things; --
Our better birthright is this day's report!
Live our sires in us? Keep we their old skill
To know Occasion's whisper and be great?
Can our proud blood in one contagious thrill
Put admiration in the eyes of Fate?
Wide is our realm, and twin seas feel our yoke,
Aye, and the oarless ocean of the North; --
Are we then mightier than that scattered folk,
That fringe of dingers by the sea-beach froth
Whose loins begat us? Let to-morrow show
If their stern arts hereditary grow.

The Birthday of The Nation

The Birthday of The Nation
by Daniel Webster
(From address delivered July 4, 1851, at laying 
the cornerstone of the new wing of the Capitol.)

       This is that day of the year which announced to mankind the great fact of American Independence! This fresh and brilliant morning blesses our vision with another beholding of the birthday of our Nation; and we see that Nation, of recent origin, now among the most considerable and powerful, and spreading from sea to sea over the continent.
       On the fourth day of July, 1776, the representatives of the United States of America, in Congress assembled, declared that these Colonies are, and ought to be, free and independent States. This declaration, made by most patriotic and resolute men, trusting in the justice of their cause and the protection of Heaven, -- and yet not without deep solicitude and anxiety -- has now stood for seventy-five years. It was sealed in blood. It has met dangers and overcome them. It has had detractors, and abashed them all. It has had enemies, and conquered them. It has had doubting friends, but it has cleared all doubts away; and now, to-day, raising its august form higher than the clouds, twenty millions of people contemplate it with hallowed love, and the world beholds it, and the consequences that have followed from it, with profound admiration.
       This anniversary animates and gladdens all American hearts. On other days of the year we may be party men, indulging in controversies more or less important to the public good. We may have likes and dislikes, and we may maintain our political differences, often with warm, and sometimes with angry feelings. But to-day we are Americans all ; nothing but Americans.
       As the great luminary over our heads, dissipating fogs and mist, now cheers the whole atmosphere, so do the associations connected with this day disperse all sullen and cloudy weather in the minds and feelings of true Americans. Every man's heart swells within him. Every man's port and bearing becomes somewhat more proud and lofty as he remembers that seventy-five years have rolled away, and that the great inheritance of Liberty is still his, -- his, undiminished and unimpaired; his, in all its original glory; his to enjoy; his to protect; his to transmit to future generations.

England and America

England and America
by James Bryce

       This is a memorable day to Englishmen as well as to Americans. It is to us a day both of regret and of rejoicing: of regret at the severance of the political connection which bound the two branches of our race together, and of regret even more for the unhappy errors which brought that severance about, and the unhappy strife by which the memory of it was embittered. But it is also a day of rejoicing, for it is the birthday of the eldest daughter of England -- the day when a new nation, sprung from our own, first took its independent place in the world. And now with the progress of time, rejoicing has prevailed over regret, and we in England can at length join heartily with you in celebrating the beginning of your national life. All sense of bitterness has passed away, and been replaced by sympathy with all which this anniversary means to an American heart.
       England and America now understand one another far better than they ever did before. In 1776 there was on one side a monarch and a small ruling caste, on the other side a people. Now our government can no longer misrepresent the nation, and across the ocean a people speaks to a people. We have both come, and that most notably within recent months, to perceive that all over the world the interests of America and of England are substantially the same.
        The sense of our underlying unity over against the other races and forms of civilization has been a potent force in drawing us together. It is said that the Fourth of July is a day of happy augury for mankind. This is true because on that day America entered on a course and proclaimed principles of government which have been of profound significance for mankind. Many nations have had a career of conquest and of civilizing dominion: but to make an immense people prosperous, happy, and free is a nobler and grander achievement than the most brilliant conquests and the widest dominion.

The Stone of The Sepulcher


The Stone of The Sepulcher
by Susan Coolidge

"How shall the stone be rolled away?"
Thus questioned they, the women three,
Who at dim dawn went forth to see
The sealed and closely guarded cell
Where slept the Lord they loved so well.
First of all Easter sacrifice,
The linen and the burial spice,
They carried, as with anxious speech
They sadly questioned, each to each:
Still, as they near and nearer drew
The puzzle and the terror grew,
And none had word of cheer to say 
But lo, the stone was rolled away!

" How shall the stone be rolled away?"
So, like the Marys, question we.
As looking on we dimly see
Some mighty barrier raise its head
To bar the path we needs must tread.
Our little strength seems weakness made,
Our hearts are faint and sore afraid;
Drooping we journey on alone. 
We only mark the heavy stone,
We do not see the helping Love
Which moves before us as we move,
Which chides our faithless, vain dismay,
And rolls for us the stone away.

"How shall the stone be rolled away?"
Ah, many a heart, with terrors pent.
Has breathed the question as it went,
With faltering feet and failing breath.
In the chill company of death,
Adown the narrow path and straight,
Which all must traverse soon or late.
And nearing thus the dreaded tomb.
Just in the thickest, deepest gloom,
Has heard the stir of angel wings,
Dear voices, sweetest welcomings,
And, as on that first Easter day,
Has found the dread stone rolled away! 
 
 
Below is a vase of lovely Easter jonquils for you to color.

Easter Dawn


Easter Dawn
by Frances Ridley Havergal

It is too calm to be a dream.
Too gravely sweet, too full of power.
Prayer changed to praise this very hour.
Yes, heard and answered ! though it seem
Beyond the hope of yesterday,
Beyond the faith that dared to pray.
Yet not beyond the love that heard,
And not beyond the faithful word
On which each trembling prayer may rest
And win the answer truly best. 

Yes, heard and answered ! sought and found !
I breathe a golden atmosphere
Of solemn joy, and seem to hear
Within, above, and all around,
The chime of deep cathedral bells,
An early herald peal that tells
A glorious Easter tide begun;
While yet are sparkling in the sun
Large raindrops of the night storm passed.
And days of Lent are gone at last.

At Easter Time

At Easter Time
by Laura E. Richards

The little flowers came through the ground,
At Easter time, at Easter time :
They raised their heads and looked around.
At happy Easter time.
And every pretty bud did say,
"Good people, bless this holy day,
For Christ is risen, the angels say
At happy Easter time!"

The pure white lily raised its cup
At Easter time, at Easter time.
The crocus to the sky looked up
At happy Easter time.
"We'll hear the song of Heaven ! " they say,
"It's glory shines on us to-day.
Oh ! may it shine on us alway
At holy Easter time!"

'Twas long and long and long ago,
That Easter time, that Easter time;
But still the pure white lilies blow
At happy Easter time.
And still each little flower doth say,
"Good Christians, bless this holy day,
For Christ is risen, the angels say
At blessed Easter time!" 
 
 
To color Easter eggs for you,
The bunnies work the whole day through.

 
Color this vintage Easter bunny egg dye from the 1950s.


The Day of Victory

lily-of-the-valley and "Peaceful Easter Greetings"

The Day of Victory
by Rachel Capen Schauffler

Rise my soul and break your prison;
For the Christ, your Lord, is risen!
While His victories avail you.
Death nor terror can assail you;
Rise with Him and, with Him, risen,
Run to visit souls in prison;
Show them how your bonds were broken,
Lend them all your keys in token
That you fought your ways from prison
By the help of Jesus Risen.

Mary by Sangster and a Primrose paper cut...

Mary 
by Margaret E. Sangster

She walked among the lilies
Upstanding straight and tall,
Their silver tapers bright against
The dusky wall;
Gray olives dropped upon her
Their crystal globes of dew.
The while the doors of heaven grew wide
To let the Easter through.

All heaven was rose and golden.
The clouds were reft apart,
Earth's holiest dawn in dazzling white
Came forth from heaven's own heart;
And never, since on Eden
Creation's glory lay,
Had ever garden of the Lord
Beheld so fair a day.

Her eyes were blurred with weeping.
Her trailing steps were slow;
The cross she bore within her
Transfixed her soul with woe.
One only goal before her
Loomed through her spirit's gloom,
As in the early morning
She sought the guarded tomb.

But down the lilied pathway
A kingly presence came,
A seamless garment clothed Him,
His face was clear as flame,
And in His hands were nailprints,
And on His brow were scars.
But in His eyes a light of love
Beyond the light of stars.

For tears she could not see Him,
As o'er the path He came.
Till, like remembered music.
He called her by her name ;
Then swift her soul to answer,
The Lord of life she knew,
Her breast unbarred its prison gates
To let the Easter through.

Such light of revelation
As bathed her being then,
It comes anew wherever Christ
Is known indeed of men;
Such glory on the pathway,
It falls again on all
Who hear the King in blessing,
And hasten at His call.

Rise, King of grace and glory.
This hallowed Easter-tide,
Nor from Thy ransomed people
Let even death divide;
For yet again doth heaven
Throw all its gates apart.
And send the sacred Easter
Straight from its glowing heart.
 
A Primrose Paper Border.
 
       Download and print out the pattern below. The dotted lines indicate where the image will be folded to continue the primrose silhouette seamlessly after it is unfolded. The number of images "linked" together in one continuous chain is determined by the length of the paper being cut. Use a very thin paper to make your cutting easier. Cut away the areas indicated by the design. (see image above and read text on the pattern below. This paper-cut may be used as a border around an Easter bulletin board in a classroom or as a paper chain for a shelf if you like.

Primrose paper cut pattern.


Easter Lilies and Window Boxes Too...

Easter Lilies
By Susan Coolidge
 
Darlings of June and brides of summer sun.
Chill pipes the stormy wind, and the skies are drear;
Dull and despoiled the gardens every one:
What do you here?

We looked to see your gracious blooms arise
'Mid soft and wooing airs in gardens green,
Where venturesome brown bees and butterflies
Should hail you queen.

There is no bee nor glancing butterfly;
They fled on rapid wings before the snow;
Your sister lilies laid them down to die,
Long, long ago.

And here, amid the slowly dropping rain.
We keep our Easter feast, with hearts whose care
Mars the high cadence of each lofty strain,
Each thankful prayer.

But not a shadow dims your joyance sweet,
No baffled hope or memory darkly clad;
You lay your whiteness at the Lord's dear feet,
And all are glad.

O coward soul ! Arouse thee and draw near.
Led by these fragrant acolytes to-day!
Let their sweet confidence rebuke thy fear,
Thy cold delay.

Come with thy darkness to the healing light,
Come with thy bitter, which shall be made sweet,
And lay thy soil beside the lilies white.
At His dear feet! 
 

        "Boxes holding flowers just outside an apartment window are great favorites with those who live in towns and cities. Here is a little girl, who lives in an apartment, all ready to fill her window box garden.
This little girl paper doll looking at her flower box is in the CC.
 
       Before pasting this picture down on cardboard, color it with your crayons. The brick wall is different shades of red and pink and the box is blue, showing up well against the white curtains.
       Cut the dotted slits in the flower box. Insert the tab on the geranium down into the center opening and paste it in place at the back. Fold the tabs on the two ivy plants and slide them inside the slits on either side of the geranium plant. Paste these in place.
       Make holes as indicated at both ends of the top of the picture, put a string through it to make a hanger. Now you can hang your paper doll from your own window with just a small amount of tape!

The Story of Easter Eggs

The Story of Easter Eggs
by Christoph Von Shmid

       Many hundred years ago, a good and noble lady, Duchess Rosilinda von Lindenburg, at a time when a cruel war was devastating the land, was obliged to fly from her beautiful home accompanied only by her two little children and one old manservant.
       They found refuge in a small mining village in the mountains, where the simple but contented and happy inhabitants did what they could for their comfort, and placed the best of all they had at the disposal of the wanderers. Nevertheless, their fare was miserable: no meat was ever to be found, seldom fish, and not even an egg; this last for the very good reason that there was not a single hen in the village! These useful domestic fowls, now so common everywhere, were originally brought from the East, and had not yet found their way to this secluded place. The people had not even heard of such "strange birds." This troubled the kind duchess, who well knew the great help they are in housekeeping, and she determined that the women who had been so kind to her should no longer be without them.
       Accordingly, the next time she sent forth her faithful old servant to try and gather news of his master and of the progress of the war, she commissioned him to bring back with him a coop full of fowls. This he did, to the great surprise of the simple natives, and the village children were greatly excited a few weeks later at the appearance of a brood of young chickens. They were so pretty and bright, were covered with such a soft down, were so open-eyed, and could run about after their mother to pick up food the very first day, and were altogether such a contrast to the blind, bald, unfledged, helpless, ugly little birds they sometimes saw in nests in the hedges, that they could not find words enough to express their admiration.
       The good lady now saved up eggs for some time, then invited all the housewives of the village to a feast, when she set before them eggs cooked in a variety of ways. She then taught them how to prepare them for themselves, and, distributing a number of fowls among them, sent the dames home grateful and happy.
       When Easter approached, she was anxious to arrange some pleasure for the village children, but had nothing to give them," not even an apple or a nut," only some eggs; but that, she concluded, was, after all, an appropriate offering, "as an egg is the first gift of the reviving spring." And then it occurred to her to boil them with mosses and roots that would give them a variety of brilliant colors," as the earth," said she, "has just laid aside her white mantle, and decorated herself with many colors ; for the dear God makes the fruit and berries not only good to eat, but also pleasant to look upon," and the children's pleasure would be all the greater.
Easter Blessings
       Accordingly, on Easter Sunday, after the church service, all the little ones of about the age of her own met together in a garden; and, when their kind hostess had talked to them awhile, she led them into a small neighboring wood. There she told them to make nests of moss, and advised each to mark well his or her own. All then returned to the garden, where a feast of milk-soup with eggs and egg-cakes had been prepared. Afterward they went back to the wood, and found to their great joy in each nest five beautiful, colored eggs, and on these a short rhyme was written.
       The surprise and delight of the little ones when they discovered a nest of the gayly colored treasures, was very great, and one of them exclaimed: "How wonderful the hens must be that can lay such pretty eggs! How I should like to see them!"
       "Oh! no hens could lay such beautiful eggs," answered a little girl, " I think it must have been the
little hare that sprang out of the juniper bush when I wanted to build my nest there."
       Then all the children laughed together, and said, "The hares lay colored eggs! Yes, yes! the dear little hares lay the beautiful eggs!" And they kept repeating it till they began really to believe it.
       Not long afterward the war ended, and the Duke Amo von Lindenburg took his wife and children back to their own palace; but before leaving the Duchess set apart a sum of money to be expended in giving the village children every Easter a feast of eggs. She instituted the custom also in her own duchy, and by degrees it spread over the whole country, the eggs being considered a symbol of redemption or deliverance from sin. The custom has found its way even to America, but nowhere out of the Vaterland are the eggs laid by the timid hare.
       To this day children living in the country go to the woods just before Easter, and return with their arms full of twigs and moss, out of which they build nests and houses, each child carefully marking his own with his name. They are then hidden behind stones and bushes in the garden, or, if the weather be cold, in corners, or under furniture in the house. And on Easter morning what an excitement there is to see what the good little hare has brought! Not only real eggs boiled and colored but sugar ones too, and often wooden ones that open like boxes, disclosing perhaps, a pair of new gloves or a bright ribbon. 

Draw an Easter Egg to Look Like a Little Man!

Above is our example of a funny face on an Easter Egg. You can copy this little man too!
 

It's always fun
At Easter time
To paint up eggs
With dots and lines.

And many shades
From blue to brown;
Then set them standing
All around.

To see who's fixed
The cleverest egg,
And who has mixed
The nicest shade.


       Did you know that of all Easter customs, the use of Easter eggs is the most universal? This is also of pagan origin, the egg having been considered a symbol of immortality by the ancients.


Easter Day In Rome

Easter Day in Rome
By Oscar Wilde
 
The silver trumpets rang across the dome,
The people knelt upon the ground with awe,
And borne upon the necks of men I saw,
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.

Priest-like he wore a robe more white than foam,
And king-like swathed himself in royal red ;
Three crowns of gold rose high above his head,
In splendor and in light the Pope passed home.

My heart stole back across wide wastes of years,
To One who wandered by a lonely sea.
And sought in vain for any place of rest.
Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,
I, only I, must wander wearily,
And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.


              Did you know that the proper time for the observance of Easter has been a subject of bitter controversy among various Christians groups? In the year 197 Pope Victor excommunicated Polycrates, bishop of Ephesus, and his entire Asiatic following for not conforming to the Roman custom. The Greek church did not adopt the Roman date until 1923, so only since then have so many Christians around the world observed Easter simultaneously!

Easter Even

Easter Even
by Christina G. Rossetti
 
The tempest over and gone, the calm begun,
Lo, " It is finished," and the Strong Man sleeps :
All stars keep vigil watching for the sun,
The moon her vigil keeps.

A garden full of silence and of dew,
Beside a virgin cave and entrance stone:
Surely a garden full of angels too.
Wondering, on watch, alone.

They who cry, " Holy, Holy, Holy," still.
Veiling their faces round God's throne above,
May well keep vigil on this heavenly hill
And cry their cry of love.

Adoring God in His new mystery
Of love more deep than hell, more strong than death;
Until the day break and the shadows flee,
The Shaking and the Breath.