| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Hellenica by Xenophon: fast flew missiles of all sorts--javelins, arrows and sling stones.
The Lacedaemonians finding the number of their wounded increasing
every minute, and sorely called, slowly fell back step by step, eyeing
their opponents. These meanwhile resolutely pressed on. Here fell
Chaeron and Thibrachus, both polemarchs, here also Lacrates, an
Olympic victor, and other Lacedaemonians, all of whom now lie entombed
before the city gates in the Ceramicus.[17]
[14] The Halipedon is the long stretch of flat sandy land between
Piraeus Phalerum and the city.
[15] Perhaps the landlocked creek just round the promontory of
Eetioneia, as Leake conjectures, "Topog. of Athens," p. 389. See
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from New Poems by Robert Louis Stevenson: IT'S FORTH ACROSS THE ROARING FOAM
IT'S forth across the roaring foam, and on towards the west,
It's many a lonely league from home, o'er many a mountain crest,
From where the dogs of Scotland call the sheep around the fold,
To where the flags are flying beside the Gates of Gold.
Where all the deep-sea galleons ride that come to bring the corn,
Where falls the fog at eventide and blows the breeze at morn;
It's there that I was sick and sad, alone and poor and cold,
In yon distressful city beside the Gates of Gold.
I slept as one that nothing knows; but far along my way,
Before the morning God rose and planned the coming day;
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Voice of the City by O. Henry: "Seventy-five dollars is the price, and it was made
to measure. I paid $10 down, and they're to collect
$1 a week till it's paid for. That'll be about all I
have to say, Mr. Farrington, except that my name is
Mamie Siviter instead of Madame Beaumont, and I
thank you for your attentions. This dollar will pay
the instalment due on the dress to-morrow. I guess
I'll go up to my room now."
Harold Farrington listened to the recital of the
Lotus's loveliest guest with an impassive countenance.
When she had concluded he drew a small book like a
The Voice of the City |
