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Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 15., Literary Medford. (search)
raise Book. Ruth Dame Coolidge is a contributor to periodicals, the editorial page of the Boston Transcript, and has given a course of lectures on architecture. In the January number of the present year of the Tufts College Graduate is an appreciation by Prof. Charles St. Clair Wade, of the personality and the poetry of Grace Harvey Lane, who lived her all too short life in Medford, graduating from the Medford schools and Tufts College. Her poetic translations won great praise. Professor Shipman said she had mastered the technique of composition, but her own poems describing the things she saw from her window, The Swamp, The Redwing, The Veery, Evening Primroses, are the true expression of her life. Suggested by Chantez! La nuit sera breve, in Par le Glaive, by Jean Richepin: Lullaby, the sun is going— Comes an old man up the stairs, For a cap the night mists flowing, And a cloak of dreams he wears; Lullaby, the sun is going. Lullaby, the stars are shining— Like a shado
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 15., Literary Medford. (search)
raise Book. Ruth Dame Coolidge is a contributor to periodicals, the editorial page of the Boston Transcript, and has given a course of lectures on architecture. In the January number of the present year of the Tufts College Graduate is an appreciation by Prof. Charles St. Clair Wade, of the personality and the poetry of Grace Harvey Lane, who lived her all too short life in Medford, graduating from the Medford schools and Tufts College. Her poetic translations won great praise. Professor Shipman said she had mastered the technique of composition, but her own poems describing the things she saw from her window, The Swamp, The Redwing, The Veery, Evening Primroses, are the true expression of her life. Suggested by Chantez! La nuit sera breve, in Par le Glaive, by Jean Richepin: Lullaby, the sun is going— Comes an old man up the stairs, For a cap the night mists flowing, And a cloak of dreams he wears; Lullaby, the sun is going. Lullaby, the stars are shining— Like a shado
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 15., Literary Medford. (search)
raise Book. Ruth Dame Coolidge is a contributor to periodicals, the editorial page of the Boston Transcript, and has given a course of lectures on architecture. In the January number of the present year of the Tufts College Graduate is an appreciation by Prof. Charles St. Clair Wade, of the personality and the poetry of Grace Harvey Lane, who lived her all too short life in Medford, graduating from the Medford schools and Tufts College. Her poetic translations won great praise. Professor Shipman said she had mastered the technique of composition, but her own poems describing the things she saw from her window, The Swamp, The Redwing, The Veery, Evening Primroses, are the true expression of her life. Suggested by Chantez! La nuit sera breve, in Par le Glaive, by Jean Richepin: Lullaby, the sun is going— Comes an old man up the stairs, For a cap the night mists flowing, And a cloak of dreams he wears; Lullaby, the sun is going. Lullaby, the stars are shining— Like a shado
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 15., Literary Medford. (search)
raise Book. Ruth Dame Coolidge is a contributor to periodicals, the editorial page of the Boston Transcript, and has given a course of lectures on architecture. In the January number of the present year of the Tufts College Graduate is an appreciation by Prof. Charles St. Clair Wade, of the personality and the poetry of Grace Harvey Lane, who lived her all too short life in Medford, graduating from the Medford schools and Tufts College. Her poetic translations won great praise. Professor Shipman said she had mastered the technique of composition, but her own poems describing the things she saw from her window, The Swamp, The Redwing, The Veery, Evening Primroses, are the true expression of her life. Suggested by Chantez! La nuit sera breve, in Par le Glaive, by Jean Richepin: Lullaby, the sun is going— Comes an old man up the stairs, For a cap the night mists flowing, And a cloak of dreams he wears; Lullaby, the sun is going. Lullaby, the stars are shining— Like a shado