Word: dreamed
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Lincoln Steffens is old and grey but not full of sleep. And what he has to say is nobody's pipe-dream but a meaty, marrowy, seasoned report on an active life which many a reader will envy...
...outline has been preserved: the Yankee finds his dream is real, he is at the Court of the Round Table, and he amazes King Arthur by causing the sun to become dark on the day he is to be executed, a feat which he announces after consulting his pocket almanac. The Yankee organizes factories in which modern appliances are turned out for the use of medieval people and sends the knights out riding with sandwich boards slung over their armor advertising corn cure, liver pills. fountain pens...
...their great leaders, a potent contact-man between the Negro and the White. Last week Dr. Meredith Ashby Jones, white Baptist pastor from St. Louis, whose father was chaplain to General Robert Edward Lee, said: "Moton is the perfect incarnation in his personality of the ideal and dream of this re public, that the day shall come when all races and all castes and all classes rep resented in our country shall indeed have a fair chance to achieve the best in life...
...dream-Byrd whispered it to me before the tumult had subsided on his return from Paris; I've heard it from each of you, and yesterday Lindbergh and I toyed with it-a crossing at 25,000 feet; far above an unfriendly ocean; at 300 miles an hour; no fog, no ice. and a glorious sky overhead-well, not yet, but we hope, soon!" The flyers who lauded Dr. Kimball were well aware that his service to them was no simple business of glancing at the sky, reading a barometer and delivering a glib verdict of "go" or "stay...
When we are old and these rejoicing veins Are frosty channels to a muted stream, And out of all our burning there remains No feeblest spark to fire us, even in dream, This be our solace: that it was not said When we were young and warm and in our prime, Upon our couch we lay as lie the dead, Sleeping away the unreturning time. O Sweet, O heavy-lidded, O my love, When morning strikes her spear upon the land, And we must rise and arm us and reprove The insolent daylight with a steady hand, Be not discountenanced...