5. Some of the lines do not have the regular beat. For example, the fifth line in the first stanza runs as follows:

It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies.

The fifth line in the second stanza is this:

Find some other lines in which the "accent" or "meter" is not regular. The swing and movement of the lines are called rhythm. 6. Indicate with marks (ŭ, —, and | ) the music of the following lines: a. Under a spreading chestnut tree

And every tree for its use is good. Book One, p. 279.

d. Apple and hickory, ash and pear,

Oak and beech, and the tulip rare.

e. Hear the loud alarum bells

Brazen bells!

Book One, p. 277.

What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells!

Book One, p. 362.

f. Old Tubal Cain was a man of might,

In the days when earth was young. P. 147.

g. Life has loveliness to sell:

All beautiful and splendid things. P. 305.

7. Volunteer work:

a. Three volunteers practice reading aloud the poem on page 426. b. Make a poster with illustrations of various kinds of vessels in

use to-day.

8. Topics to investigate: Use your encyclopedias; find your information now and prepare to report during the General Review, p. 487, No. 5. a. Safety on the sea now as compared with fifty years ago. b. Services to shipping of the United States Weather Bureau. c. The use of sailing-vessels to-day.

d. The routes of the ocean, Atlantic.

e. Conveniences of the modern ocean liner. Try to illustrate your talk with pictures from the free folders sent out by steamship companies.

f. Amusements on an ocean liner to-day.

g. Vessels in the days of George Washington.

2. HIAWATHA'S SAILING

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

Read this poem aloud, comparing its music with that of "The Sea." Notice that most of the lines have the opposite accents from those found in the first poem. Here the accented syllables come first. There are four "beats" or "throbs" in each line.

Build a swift Chee maun for sailing,

That shall float upon the river,

"Give me of your bark, O Birch-Tree!
Of your yellow bark, O Birch-Tree!
Growing by the rushing river,
Tall and stately in the valley!
I a light canoe will build me,
Build a swift Cheemaun for sailing,
That shall float upon the river,
Like a yellow leaf in Autumn,
Like a yellow water-lily!

"Lay aside your cloak, O Birch-Tree!
Lay aside your white-skin wrapper,
For the Summer-time is coming,

And the sun is warm in heaven,

And you need no white-skin wrapper!"

Thus aloud cried Hiawatha

In the solitary forest,

By the rushing Taquamenaw,

When the birds were singing gayly,
In the Moon of Leaves were singing,
And the sun, from sleep awaking,
Started up and said, "Behold me!
Gheezis, the great Sun, behold me!"

And the tree with all its branches
Rustled in the breeze of morning,
Saying, with a sigh of patience,
"Take my cloak, O Hiawatha !"

With his knife the tree he girdled;
Just beneath its lowest branches,
Just above the roots, he cut it,
Till the sap came oozing outward;
Down the trunk, from top to bottom,
Sheer he cleft the bark asunder,
With a wooden wedge he raised it,
Stripped it from the trunk unbroken.

"Give me of your boughs, O Cedar ! Of your strong and pliant branches, My canoe to make more steady,

Make more strong and firm beneath me!"

Through the summit of the Cedar
Went a sound, a cry of horror,
Went a murmur of resistance;
But it whispered, bending downward,
"Take my boughs, O Hiawatha !"

Down he hewed the boughs of cedar, Shaped them straightway to a framework, Like two bows he formed and shaped them, Like two bended bows together.

"Give me of your roots, O Tamarack! Of your fibrous roots, O Larch-Tree! My canoe to bind together,

So to bind the ends together

That the water may not enter,
That the river may not wet me!"

And the Larch, with all its fibers,
Shivered in the air of morning,
Touched his forehead with its tassels,
Said, with one long sigh of sorrow,
"Take them all, O Hiawatha!"

From the earth he tore the fibers,
Tore the tough roots of the Larch-Tree,
Closely sewed the bark together,
Bound it closely to the framework.

Give me of your balm, O Fir-Tree!
Of your balsam and your resin,
So to close the seams together
That the water may not enter,
That the river may not wet me!"

And the Fir-Tree, tall and somber,
Sobbed through all its robes of darkness,
Rattled like a shore with pebbles,
Answered wailing, answered weeping,
"Take my balm, O Hiawatha !"

And he took the tears of balsam,

Took the resin of the Fir-Tree,

Smeared therewith each seam and fissure,
Made each crevice safe from water.

"Give me of your quills, O Hedgehog!
All your quills, O Kagh, the Hedgehog!
I will make a necklace of them,
Make a girdle for my beauty,
And two stars to deck her bosom !"

From a hollow tree the Hedgehog
With his sleepy eyes looked at him,
Shot his shining quills, like arrows,
Saying, with a drowsy murmur,
Through the tangle of his whiskers,
"Take my quills, O Hiawatha !"

From the ground the quills he gathered, All the little shining arrows,

Stained them red and blue and yellow,

With the juice of roots and berries;
Into his canoe he wrought them,
Round its waist a shining girdle,
Round its bows a gleaming necklace,
On its breast two stars resplendent.

Thus the Birch Canoe was builded
In the valley, by the river,
In the bosom of the forest;

And the forest's life was in it,
All its mystery and its magic,
All the lightness of the birch-tree,
All the toughness of the cedar,
All the larch's supple sinews;
And it floated on the river
Like a yellow leaf in Autumn,
Like a yellow water-lily.

Paddles none had Hiawatha,
Paddles none he had or needed,

For his thoughts as paddles served him,
And his wishes served to guide him.

Swift or slow at will he glided,
Veered to right or left at pleasure.

Then he called aloud to Kwasind,
To his friend, the strong man, Kwasind,
Saying, "Help me clear this river
Of its sunken logs and sand-bars.”

Straight into the river Kwasind
Plunged as if he were an otter,
Dived as if he were a beaver,
Stood up to his waist in water,
To his arm-pits in the river,
Swam and shouted in the river,