Summary

E. C. Hartwell Story Hour Readings: Seventh Year

BUNKER HILL By John Pierpont
Stand! the ground's your own, my braves!
Will ye give it up to slaves?
Will ye look for greener graves?
Hope ye mercy still?
What's the mercy despots feel? 5
Hear it in that battle peal!
Read it on yon bristling steel!
Ask it—ye who will!
Fear ye foes who kill for hire?
Will ye to your homes retire? 10
Look behind you! they're afire!
And, before you, see
Who have done it! From the vale
On they come!—and will ye quail?—
Leaden rain and iron hail 15
Let their welcome be!
In the God of battles trust!
Die we may—and die we must
Source: Gutenberg

E. C. Hartwell Story Hour Readings: Seventh Year

The wicked hornet, idling under the eaves, rejoiced at
the mischief he had wrought. But the Smith was filled
with grief, and the music of his anvil became a jangling
discord. 10
"Oh, Iron," he cried, "it was not for this that I caused
you to leave your hiding places in the hills and bogs! The
three sisters intended that you should be a blessing to
mankind; but now I greatly fear that you will become a
curse." 15
At that moment the honeybee, laden with the sweets of
field and wood, came buzzing into the smithy.
Source: Gutenberg

E. C. Hartwell Story Hour Readings: Seventh Year

It was a terrible sight to see that unearthly-looking monster
smashing the ice around it and lashing the blood-stained 15
sea into foam, while it waged such mortal war with the
self-possessed and wary man. How mighty and strong
the one! how comparatively weak and seemingly helpless
the other! It was the triumph of mind over matter—of
reason over blind brute force. 20
But Annatock fought a hard battle that day ere he came
off conqueror. Harpoon after harpoon was driven into the
walrus—again and again the lance pierced deep into its
side and drank its lifeblood
Source: Gutenberg

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