| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Gettysburg Address by Abraham Lincoln: who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power
to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember,
what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.
It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished
work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.
It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining
before us. . .that from these honored dead we take increased devotion
to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. . .
that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. . .
that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom. . .
and that government of the people. . .by the people. . .for the people. . .
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Bride of Lammermoor by Walter Scott: that, in my extremities, you had a mind to CRIMP me for the
service of the French king, or of the Pretender; and, moreover,
that you afterwards lent me a score of pieces, when, as I firmly
believe, you had heard the news that old Lady Girnington had a
touch of the dead palsy. But don't be downcast, John; I
believe, after all, you like me very well in your way, and it is
my misfortune to have no better counsellor at present. To return
to this Lady Blenkensop, you must know, she is a close
confederate of Duchess Sarah."
"What! of Sall Jennings?" exclaimed Craigengelt; "then she must
be a good one."
The Bride of Lammermoor |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Georgics by Virgil: Nor midst the vines plant hazel; neither take
The topmost shoots for cuttings, nor from the top
Of the supporting tree your suckers tear;
So deep their love of earth; nor wound the plants
With blunted blade; nor truncheons intersperse
Of the wild olive: for oft from careless swains
A spark hath fallen, that, 'neath the unctuous rind
Hid thief-like first, now grips the tough tree-bole,
And mounting to the leaves on high, sends forth
A roar to heaven, then coursing through the boughs
And airy summits reigns victoriously,
Georgics |
