AND ANSWERS 2024
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Standing, like most young chestnutt, marrow of tradition
people of her race, on the
border line between two
irreconcilable states of
life, she had neither the
picturesqueness of the
slave, nor the unconscious
dignity of those of whom
freedom has been the
immemorial birthright
,So often had he gone dunbar-nelson, the stones of the village
home in the same spirit,
however,
that it had grown nearly
second nature to himthis
dull, sullen resentment,
flaming out now and then
into
almost murderous
vindictiveness. Behind him
there floated derisive
laughs and shouts, the
taunts of little
brutes, boys of his own
age.
But he was awake, and his dunbar-nelson, the stones of the village
mind was like a shifting
kaleidoscope of miserable
incidents and heartaches.
He had lived fourteen
years, and he could
remember most of them
as years of misery.
He writhed on his cot that dunbar-nelson, the stones of the village
night and lived over all the
anguish of his years until
hot tears scalded their
way down a burning face,
and he fell into a troubled
sleep wherein he sobbed
over some dreamland
miseries
, Why should the world be paul Laurence dunbar, we wear the mask
over-wise,
In counting all our tears
and sighs?
We smile, but, O great paul Laurence dunbar, we wear the mask
Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured
souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is
vile
Beneath our feet, and
long the mile;
In his way he was happy, dunbar-nelson, the stones of the village
and if he was lonely, he
had ceased to care about
it, for his world was
peopled with
images of his own
fancying.
Money meant little to him. dunbar-nelson, the stones of the village
He never needed it, never
used it.
She had not learned yet dunbar-nelson, the stones of the village
how to veil her eyes and
mask her face under a
cool assumption
of superiority. She would
give him her hand when
they met with a girlish
impulsiveness, and her
color
came and went under his
gaze.