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Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 1 1 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations 1 1 Browse Search
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Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing), Wrecks. (search)
three lives lost......Dec. 14, 1886 American bark Atlantic stranded at entrance to Golden Gate, Cal.; twenty-seven lives lost......Dec. 17, 1886 American ship St. Stephen, from Port Townsend to San Francisco, founders at sea; twenty-seven lives lost......April, 1887 British bark Abercorn stranded on Damon's Point, north of Gray's Harbor, Wash.; twenty-two lives lost......Jan. 30, 1888 American ferry-boat Julia explodes her boiler at South Vallejo, Cal.; thirty lives lost......Feb. 27, 1888 American bark Ohio stranded near Point Hope, Alaska; twenty-five lives lost......Oct. 3, 1888 United States steamers Trenton and Vandalia wrecked, and the Nipsic stranded, in a storm at Apia, Samoan Islands; fifty-one lives lost. In the same storm the German steamers Adler and Eber are wrecked, with a loss of ninety-six lives......March 16, 1889 American steamer Alaskan founders at sea between Aslona, Or., and San Francisco; twenty-six lives lost......May 13, 1889 Ship Eliza
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Afternoon landscape: poems and translations, Dame Craigie. (search)
Dame Craigie. [Lines read at the Longfellow Memorial Reading, Cambridge, Feb. 27, 1888.] in childish Cambridge days, now long ago, When pacing schoolward in the morning hours, I passed the stately homes of Tory Row And paused to see Dame Craigie tend her flowers. Framed in the elm-tree boughs before her door The old escutcheon of our town was seen,-- Canker-worms pendent, yellowing leaves in or, School-boys regardant, on a field grass-green. Dame Craigie, with Spinoza in her hand, Was once heard murmuring to the insect crew, “I will not harm you, little restless band! For what are mortal men but worms, like you?” The trees are gone; Dame Craigie too is gone, Her tongue long silent, and her turban furled; Yet 'neath her roof thought's silk-worms still spun on, Whose sumptuous fabric clothed a barren worl