The two most memorable barricades which the observer of social maladies can name do not belong to the period in which the action of this work is laid. These two barricades, both of them symbols, under two different aspects, of a redoubtable situation, sprang from the earth at the time of the fatal insurrection of June, 1848, the greatest war of the streets that history has ever beheld.

Paris has a child, and the forest has a bird; the bird is called the sparrow; the child is called the gamin.

In 1815, M. Charles-Francois-Bienvenu Myriel was Bishop of D-He was an old man of about seventy-five years of age; he had occupied the see of D-since 1806.

"A poem is...it cannot be otherwise... seldom explained...it spreads its words...on a page...hovering in a white sky..." So begins world-famous singer/songwriter Donovan in his poetic foreword to This Enduring Gift. This Enduring Gift is a collection of timeless and memorable poetry that digs deep and delivers. The 76 poets come from many parts of the US, Canada, the Caribbean, Australia, and several countries in Europe. They have one thing in common - they live or have lived in one buzzing, cosmopolitan small town in America's Heartland: Fairfield, Iowa. In nearly 300 poems, these remarkable poets not only share important nuggets from their own lives, but they communicate in universal terms, touching the very heart of our existence. Each poem speaks in its own distinct voice. Regardless of the many different styles and approaches these poets exhibit, each of their poems complement the others in a larger context. All 16 chapters read like a little book each expressing many variations on its theme, which you can savor in your own sweet time. Freddy Niagara Fonseca, Renaissance man, poet, dramatic reader, impresario, and creator of This Enduring Gift has immersed himself in the arts all his life and has read tens of thousands of poems in five languages. In 2004 he founded the Candlelight Reading Series, and in 2007, the Chamber Music Society Fairfield. With the collaboration of expressive readers, musicians, dancers, and actors, he has presented over 50 poetry readings on universal themes culled from poetry of all styles, eras, and cultures. He regularly invites noteworthy musicians - statewide, nationwide, and internationally - to perform chamber music in Fairfield, Iowa. Freddy Niagara Fonseca believes that poetry and the whole world will drastically change once a new, spiritual paradigm of consciousness and language emerges. Poetry will then be experienced, written, and appreciated in universal terms, and a sublime awareness of the Earth will manifest. He has lived in Fairfield for over 20 years and calls it home. "This Enduring Gift is a wonderful compilation of the many rich voices and gifted poets who live in Fairfield, IA-a unique spot on the map. This anthology should not only endure, but inspire, enlighten and entertain all who touch its pages." - MARY SWANDER, Poet Laureate of IA, Author of The Girls on the Roof "This Enduring Gift is a testament to the abiding power of poetry within a particularly unique community and, by extension, speaks to poetry's universal relevance. Here, a convergence of voices from places near and far, gathered in a small Midwestern town, observe, reflect, meditate, and wonder. From evocative lyrics to compelling narratives, from precise moments of deeply felt experience to inquiries of mystical complexities, these poems resonate with individual authenticity and true collective spirit." - WALTER E. BUTTS, 2009-2014 Poet Laureate of New Hampshire "This Enduring Gift reads like a collection of polished mirrors reflecting the valor of Fairfield poets - valor born of candor and insight that takes center stage and performs a love affair with language." - KIRA ROSNER, Author of When Souls Take Flight "The poems of This Enduring Gift...indicate an original awareness, a sensibility, a clarity of image, rhythm, and color from a group of individuals who have lived in Fairfield, Iowa - far more than a geographical location, but more a state of mind, or consciousness, seemingly, as there is a remarkable texture-ness to them all, each one unique in its shine and feel. I am startled at the creative light found in this wonderful collection so well arranged, edited and created by Freddy Fonseca." - RUDY WILSON Author of The Red Truck, and other novels.

ARCHIDAMUS. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia. CAMILLO. I think this coming summer the King of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.

VALENTINE. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus: Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. Were't not affection chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love, I rather would entreat thy company To see the wonders of the world abroad, Than, living dully sluggardiz'd at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. But since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein, Even as I would, when I to love begin. PROTEUS. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu! Think on thy Proteus, when thou haply seest Some rare noteworthy object in thy travel. Wish me partaker in thy happiness When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger, If ever danger do environ thee, Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, For I will be thy headsman, Valentine.

DUKE. If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die. That strain again! It had a dying fall; O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! Enough, no more; 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before. O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou! That, notwithstanding thy capacity Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, Of what validity and pitch soe'er, But falls into abatement and low price Even in a minute. So full of shapes is fancy, That it alone is high fantastical.

In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece The princes orgillous, their high blood chaf'd, Have to the port of Athens sent their ships Fraught with the ministers and instruments Of cruel war. Sixty and nine that wore Their crownets regal from th' Athenian bay Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen, With wanton Paris sleeps-and that's the quarrel. To Tenedos they come, And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge Their war-like fraughtage. Now on Dardan plains The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city, Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien, And Antenorides, with massy staples And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts, Sperr up the sons of Troy.

SATURNINUS. Noble patricians, patrons of my right, Defend the justice of my cause with arms; And, countrymen, my loving followers, Plead my successive title with your swords. I am his first born son that was the last That ware the imperial diadem of Rome; Then let my father's honours live in me, Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. BASSIANUS. Romans, friends, followers, favourers of my right, If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son, Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, Keep then this passage to the Capitol; And suffer not dishonour to approach The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, To justice, continence, and nobility; But let desert in pure election shine; And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.

POET. Good day, sir. PAINTER. I am glad y'are well. POET. I have not seen you long; how goes the world? PAINTER. It wears, sir, as it grows. POET. Ay, that's well known. But what particular rarity? What strange, Which manifold record not matches? See, Magic of bounty, all these spirits thy power Hath conjur'd to attend! I know the merchant. PAINTER. I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.

MASTER. Boatswain! BOATSWAIN. Here, master; what cheer? MASTER. Good! Speak to th' mariners; fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves aground; bestir, bestir. BOATSWAIN. Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to th' master's whistle. Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough.

SLY. I'll pheeze you, in faith. HOSTESS. A pair of stocks, you rogue SLY. Y'are a baggage; the Slys are no rogues. Look in the chronicles: we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, paucas pallabris; let the world slide. Sessa HOSTESS. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? SLY. No, not a denier. Go by, Saint Jeronimy, go to thy cold bed and warm thee.

CHORUS. Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows Doth with their death bury their parents' strife. The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, And the continuance of their parents' rage, Which, but their children's end, naught could remove, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

GLOUCESTER. Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front, And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I-that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass- I-that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nym

KING RICHARD. Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster, Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son, Here to make good the boist'rous late appeal, Which then our leisure would not let us hear, Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? GAUNT. I have, my liege. KING RICHARD. Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice, Or worthily, as a good subject should, On some known ground of treachery in him?

RODERIGO. Tush, never tell me! I take it much unkindly That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. IAGO. 'Sblood, but you will not hear me. If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me. RODERIGO. Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate. IAGO. Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Off-capp'd to him; and, by the faith of man, I know my price, I am worth no worse a place. But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, Evades them, with a bumbast circumstance Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war, And, in conclusion,

LEONATO. I learn in this letter that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina. MESSENGER. He is very near by this. He was not three leagues off when I left him. LEONATO. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action? MESSENGER. But few of any sort, and none of name. LEONATO. A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine called Claudio.

THESEUS. Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Draws on apace; four happy days bring in Another moon; but, O, methinks, how slow This old moon wanes! She lingers my desires, Like to a step-dame or a dowager, Long withering out a young man's revenue. HIPPOLYTA. Four days will quickly steep themselves in night; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to a silver bow New-bent in heaven, shall behold the night Of our solemnities.

SHALLOW. Sir Hugh, persuade me not; I will make a Star Chamber matter of it; if he were twenty Sir John Falstaffs, he shall not abuse Robert Shallow, esquire. SLENDER. In the county of Gloucester, Justice of Peace, and Coram. SHALLOW. Ay, cousin Slender, and Custalorum. SLENDER. Ay, and Ratolorum too; and a gentleman born, Master Parson, who writes himself 'Armigero' in any bill, warrant, quittance, or obligation-'Armigero.' SHALLOW. Ay, that I do; and have done any time these three hundred years.

ANTONIO. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad. It wearies me; you say it wearies you; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn; And such a want-wit sadness makes of me That I have much ado to know myself. SALERIO. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; There where your argosies, with portly sail- Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood, Or as it were the pageants of the sea- Do overpeer the petty traffickers, That curtsy to them, do them reverence, As they fly by them with their woven wings.

DUKE. Escalus! ESCALUS. My lord. DUKE. Of government the properties to unfold Would seem in me t' affect speech and discourse, Since I am put to know that your own science Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice My strength can give you; then no more remains But that to your sufficiency- as your worth is able- And let them work. The nature of our people, Our city's institutions, and the terms For common justice, y'are as pregnant in As art and practice hath enriched any That we remember. There is our commission, From which we would not have you warp. Call hither, I say, bid come before us, Angelo.

FIRST WITCH. When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain? SECOND WITCH. When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won. THIRD WITCH. That will be ere the set of sun. FIRST WITCH. Where the place? SECOND WITCH. Upon the heath. THIRD WITCH. There to meet with Macbeth. FIRST WITCH. I come, Graymalkin.

KING. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live regist'red upon our brazen tombs, And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant devouring Time, Th' endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, And make us heirs of all eternity. Therefore, brave conquerors- for so you are That war against your own affections And the huge army of the world's desires- Our late edict shall strongly stand in force: Navarre shall be the wonder of the world; Our court shall be a little Academe, Still and contemplative in living art. You three, Berowne, Dumain, and Longaville, Have sworn for three years' term to live with me My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes That are recorded in this schedule here. Your oaths are pass'd; and now subscribe your names, That his own hand may strike his honour down That violates the smallest branch herein. If you are arm'd to do as sworn to do, Subscribe to your deep oaths, and keep it too.

Purchase one of 1st World Library's Classic Books and help support our free internet library of downloadable eBooks. Visit us online at www.1stWorldLibrary.ORG - - The year 1400 opened with more than usual peacefulness in England. Only a few months before, Richard II - weak, wicked, and treacherous - had been dethroned, and Henry IV declared King in his stead. But it was only a seeming peacefulness, lasting but for a little while; for though King Henry proved himself a just and a merciful man - as justice and mercy went with the men of iron of those days - and though he did not care to shed blood needlessly, there were many noble families who had been benefited by King Richard during his reign, and who had lost somewhat of their power and prestige from the coming in of the new King. Among these were a number of great lords - the Dukes of Albemarle, Surrey, and Exeter, the Marquis of Dorset, the Earl of Gloucester, and others - who had been degraded to their former titles and estates, from which King Richard had lifted them. These and others brewed a secret plot to take King Henry's life, which plot might have succeeded had not one of their own number betrayed them.

KENT. I thought the King had more affected the Duke of Albany than Cornwall. GLOUCESTER. It did always seem so to us; but now, in the division of the kingdom, it appears not which of the Dukes he values most, for equalities are so weigh'd that curiosity in neither can make choice of either's moiety. KENT. Is not this your son, my lord? GLOUCESTER. His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge. I have so often blush'd to acknowledge him that now I am braz'd to't.