| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Timaeus by Plato: except in the war between the two rival powers and the submersion of both
of them? And how was the tale transferred to the poem of Solon? 'It is
not improbable,' says Mr. Grote, 'that Solon did leave an unfinished
Egyptian poem' (Plato). But are probabilities for which there is not a
tittle of evidence, and which are without any parallel, to be deemed worthy
of attention by the critic? How came the poem of Solon to disappear in
antiquity? or why did Plato, if the whole narrative was known to him, break
off almost at the beginning of it?
While therefore admiring the diligence and erudition of M. Martin, we
cannot for a moment suppose that the tale was told to Solon by an Egyptian
priest, nor can we believe that Solon wrote a poem upon the theme which was
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Royalty Restored/London Under Charles II by J. Fitzgerald Molloy: betook himself to the latter, where, seeing the young Princess
d'Este, then in her fifteenth year, he came to the conclusion no
better choice could be made on behalf of the duke than this fair
lady. On communicating this opinion to his royal highness and to
his majesty, the king commissioned him to demand the hand of the
princess in marriage for his brother.
Difficulties regarding this desired union now arose. The young
lady, having been bred in great simplicity and ignorance, had
never heard of such a country as England, or such a person as the
Duke of York; and therefore had no mind to adventure herself in a
distant land, or wed a man of whom she knew nought. Moreover,
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Song of Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: With the courage of his father.
"And the boy grew up and prospered,
And Osseo, to delight him,
Made him little bows and arrows,
Opened the great cage of silver,
And let loose his aunts and uncles,
All those birds with glossy feathers,
For his little son to shoot at.
"Round and round they wheeled and darted,
Filled the Evening Star with music,
With their songs of joy and freedom
|
