Who is Susan Coolidge (sarah Chauncey Woolsey)

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Susan Coolidge (sarah Chauncey Woolsey) Poems

  • A Thunder Storm
    The day was hot and the day was dumb,
    Save for cricket's chirr or the bee's low hum,
    Not a bird was seen or a butterfly,
    And ever till noon was over, the sun ...
  • Overshadowed
    "Insomuch that they brought forth the sick into the streets, and laid them on beds and couches, that at the least the shadow of Peter, passing by, might overshadow some of them."

    Mid the thronged bustle of the city street, ...
  • Hope And I
    Hope stood one morning by the way,
    And stretched her fair right hand to me,
    And softly whispered, "For this day
    I'll company with thee." ...
  • Tokens
    Each day upon the yellow Nile, 'tis said.
    Joseph, the youthful ruler, cast forth wheat,
    That haply, floating to his father's feet,--
    The sad old father, who believed him dead,-- ...
  • Secrets
    In the long, bright summer, dear to bird and bee,
    When the woods are standing in liveries green and gay,
    Merry little voices sound from every tree,
    And they whisper secrets all the day. ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Susan Coolidge (sarah Chauncey Woolsey)

Sweet 34 Long 28 Blue 20 Soft 19 Sun 19 White 19 Face 17 Earth 16 Night 16 Place 15

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Poem of the day

Carl Sandburg Poem
 by Carl Sandburg

TWO Swede families live downstairs and an Irish policeman upstairs, and an old soldier, Uncle Joe.
Two Swede boys go upstairs and see Joe. His wife is dead, his only son is dead, and his two daughters in Missouri and Texas don't want him around.
The boys and Uncle Joe crack walnuts with a hammer on the bottom of a flatiron while the January wind howls and the zero air weaves laces on the window glass.
Joe tells the Swede boys all about Chickamauga and Chattanooga, how the Union soldiers crept in rain somewhere a dark night and ran forward and killed many Rebels, took flags, held a hill, and won a victory told about in the histories in school.
Joe takes a piece of carpenter's chalk, draws lines on the floor and piles stove wood to show where six regiments were slaughtered climbing a slope.
'Here they went' and 'Here they went,' says Joe, and the January wind howls and the zero air weaves laces on the window glass.
The two Swede boys go downstairs with a big blur of guns, men, and hills in their heads. They eat herring and potatoes and tell the family war is a wonder and soldiers are a wonder.
One breaks out with a cry at supper: I wish we had a war now and I could be a soldier.

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