Category: Celebration
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“I Hear America Singing”
by Walt Whitman I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,The boatman singing what belongs to him in…
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“Lift Every Voice and Sing”
“God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, Thou who has brought us thus far on the way; Thou who has by Thy might Led us into the light,” — excerpt from “Lift Every Voice and Sing” by James Weldon Johnson
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“Rhapsody”
“Are the entrance-place of wonders, Where dreams come in from the rush and din Like sheep from the rains and thunders.” — from “Rhapsody” by William Braithwaite
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“won’t you celebrate with me” by LUCILLE CLIFTON (1936 – 2010)
won’t you celebrate with me BY LUCILLE CLIFTON won’t you celebrate with me what i have shaped into a kind of life? i had no model. born in babylon both nonwhite and woman what did i see to be except myself? i made it up here on this bridge between starshine and clay, my one…
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Poem: “Traveling” by William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850)
And no one can tell whither.—my sweet friend! We two have had such happy hours together That my heart melts in me to think of it.
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Poem: “When I Heard the Learned Astronomer” by Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)
When I heard the learn’d astronomer, When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me, When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them, When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick, Till…
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“I had no time to hate, because” by Emily Dickinson
I HAD no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity.
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“The Gift to Sing” by James Weldon Johnson (1871 – 1938)
Sometimes the mist overhangs my path, And blackening clouds about me cling; But, oh, I have a magic way To turn the gloom to cheerful day— I softly sing…
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“The Lamb” by William Blake
Little Lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? Gave thee life, and bid thee feed, By the stream and o’er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight, Softest clothing, woolly, bright; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice? Little Lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made…
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