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The Daily Dispatch: August 28, 1861., [Electronic resource] 2 0 Browse Search
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 15. 2 0 Browse Search
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 2. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier) 2 0 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 20. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 2 0 Browse Search
Laura E. Richards, Maud Howe, Florence Howe Hall, Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910, in two volumes, with portraits and other illustrations: volume 1 2 0 Browse Search
Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 3 2 0 Browse Search
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall) 2 0 Browse Search
Wendell Phillips, Theodore C. Pease, Speeches, Lectures and Letters of Wendell Phillips: Volume 2 2 0 Browse Search
John Harrison Wilson, The life of Charles Henry Dana 2 0 Browse Search
Charles Congdon, Tribune Essays: Leading Articles Contributing to the New York Tribune from 1857 to 1863. (ed. Horace Greeley) 2 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 15.. You can also browse the collection for Olympus or search for Olympus in all documents.

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can Poetry, and On a Volume of Dante, is included in Higginson's American Sonnets. Little Theocritus. Ye white Sicilian goats, who wander all About the slopes of this wild mountain pass, Take heed your horny footsteps do not fall Upon the baby dreamer in the grass. Let him lie there, half waking, and rejoice In the safe shelter of his resting place, In hearing of his shepherd father's voice, In reach of fruity clusters o'er his face. Look up, sweet baby eyes, look up on high, To where Olympus merges in the blue, There dwell the deathless gods in majesty, The gods who hold a mighty gift for you. Those little, clinging hands shall write one day Rare, golden words, to lift the hearts of men; Those curling, downy locks shall wear the bay, A crown that they shall never lose again. Little Theocritus! Look up and smile, Immortal child, for there are coming years, When the great, busy world shall pause awhile To listen to your singing through its tears. Maud Kilbourn Wellington h