| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Snow Image by Nathaniel Hawthorne: tinged with the rosy sunset, though thus far down into the valley
the sunshine had vanished long and long ago
The little boy now crept still closer to his father, as footsteps
were heard ascending the hill-side, and a human form thrust aside
the bushes that clustered beneath the trees.
"Halloo! who is it?" cried the lime-burner, vexed at his son's
timidity, yet half infected by it. "Come forward, and show
yourself, like a man, or I'll fling this chunk of marble at your
head!"
"You offer me a rough welcome," said a gloomy voice, as the
unknown man drew nigh. "Yet I neither claim nor desire a kinder
The Snow Image |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle: Ho, my merry men! Come quickly!"
Then from out the forest leaped Little John and six stout yeomen clad
in Lincoln green.
"How now, good master," cried Little John, "what need hast thou
that thou dost wind thy horn so loudly?"
"There stands a tinker," quoth Robin, "that would fain take me to Nottingham,
there to hang upon the gallows tree."
"Then shall he himself hang forthwith," cried Little John,
and he and the others made at the Tinker, to seize him.
"Nay, touch him not," said Robin, "for a right stout man is he.
A metal man he is by trade, and a mettled man by nature; moreover, he doth
The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Margret Howth: A Story of To-day by Rebecca Harding Davis: vacant of the triumphs he had planned? "The self-existent soul!
stopped in its growth by chance, this omnipotent deity,--the
chance burning of a mill!" Knowles muttered to himself, looking
at Holmes. With a dim flash of doubt, as he said it, whether
there might not, after all, be a Something,--some deep of calm,
of eternal order, where he and Holmes, these coarse chances,
these wrestling souls, these creeds, Catholic or Humanitarian,
even that namby-pamby Kitts and his picture, might be
unconsciously working out their part. Looking out of the
hospital-window, he saw the deep of the stainless blue,
impenetrable, with the stars unconscious in their silence of the
Margret Howth: A Story of To-day |
