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Updated: June 26, 2025
He has found another squaw, fleeter than the antelope, more graceful than the fawn, whose voice is like the singing birds, and face fairer than imagery of the spirit land. Let my brother go to his home, but Whirlwind's home is where the antelope is, he will live and die with her." "Pshaw! chief. You will be as much the chief of your people when you return as ever.
"What I am I must not show What I am thou couldst not know Something betwixt heaven and hell Something that neither stood nor fell Something that through thy wit or will May work thee good may work thee ill. Neither substance quite nor shadow, Haunting lonely moor and meadow, Dancing; by the haunted spring, Riding on the whirlwind's wing; Aping in fantastic fashion Every change of human passion,
And the Basin wind blew in through the cracked windows, and a bird flew upward: "Softly through the storm of life, Clear above the whirlwind's cry" It all resolved itself into that at last; the human voice crying upward, shivering, like the bird's flight; but with sure aim now! I saw how it was at the first look at Vesty's face, when I called the next morning.
"You see, a whirlwind's a sort of summer storm. All sunshine and and well, a whirlwind don't suggest the cold, vicious, stormy gales of the folks in this village, nor the dozy summer zephyrs of the women in this valley. Yes, I'd like a whirlwind. His eyes are blue, and silly?" Charlie smiled more broadly as he nodded again. "His eyes are blue. And big. The other's a sort of term of endearment.
Woe, I see the wild wind wreak Its wrath upon thy rosy bloom, Winter plough thy rounded cheek, Cloud and darkness close in gloom; Blackening over, and forever, Youth's serene and silver river! Love alike and beauty o'er, Lovely and beloved no more! Maiden, an oak that soars on high, And scorns the whirlwind's breath Behold thy Poet's youth defy The blunted dart of Death!
"The swarm that in the noontide beam were born? Gone to salute the rising Morn. Fair laughs the Morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm, In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping Whirlwind's sway, That, hushed in grim repose, expects his evening prey."
When they were there just a year before, a war party of ten men, led by The Whirlwind's son, had gone out against the enemy, and not one had ever returned. This was the immediate cause of this season's warlike preparations.
The squaw looked her thanks while she pressed her child to her bosom as if she would "say we shall still live perhaps to see home and kindred when the snows melt from the hills." Jane's reception of the Indian woman. Whirlwind's indifference. Condition of the party. Sidney begins to use his broken arm. Their health. They cannot calculate the day nor month.
"Free! Examine this freedom, ye observers of human nature! Erected upon the sandy, crumbling foundation of our present public school culture, its building slants to one side, trembling before the whirlwind's blast. Look at the free student, the herald of self-culture: guess what his instincts are; explain him from his needs!
The clouds were sad and grand; there was a bird flying to them. She fixed her eyes there, and her voice flowed out of her: "'Softly through the storm of life, Clear above the whirlwind's cry, O'er the waves of sorrow, steals The voice of Jesus, "It is I.""
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