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That darker grows the shortening day,

And colder blows the wintry air !

The wrecks of passion and desire,

The castles I no more rebuild, May fitly feed my drift-wood fire,

And warm the hands that age has chilled.


I know the solemn monotone

Of waters calling unto me ;
I know from whence the airs have blown

That whisper of the Eternal Sea.

As low my fires of drift-wood burn,

I hear that sea's deep sound increase. And, fair in sunset light, discern

Its mirage-lifted Isles of Peace.


Nathaniel Hawthorne

Nathaniel Hawthorne




MONG the passengers in the ship which

brought Winthrop and Dudley to the New World was William Hathorne, the ancestor of the novelist. A man of character, versatile, naturally eloquent, and a born leader, he rose to a position of influence in the colony. One of his sons, John Hathorne, was destined to sinister renown as a judge at the trials for witchcraft held at Salem in 1691.

Daniel Hathorne, a grandson of the old witch judge, took to the sea, and during the Revolutionary War served as a privateersman. He had seven children. Nathaniel, his third son, also a

a sea-captain, married Elizabeth Clarke Manning, and became the father of Nathaniel Hawthorne,

Julian Hawthorne: Nathaniel Hawthorne and his wife, second edition, 1885.

Horatio Bridge : Personal Recollections of Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1893

G. E. Woodberry: Nathaniel Hawthorne, American Men of Letters,' 1902.

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