cambridge is for poets

A long overdue post: last weekend we wandered around Cambridge. We visited Grolier’s Poetry Bookshop – poetry buffs reading this should go there RIGHT NOW. It’s a small store packed with volumes, most of them arranged by author and others by region. And the display tables are very eye-catching. Tom is the poet, and came armed with a list of names to look for; I enjoyed browsing, reading little bits here and there.

And speaking of poets…if you love poetry and you’re in Cambridge you really ought to visit the Longfellow house. Longfellow sounds like he was such a fun guy, with his white santa beard and his children all clamoring around him. I got a chill when we were informed that his dear, beloved wife Fanny died in a horrible accident when her skirt caught on fire “in this very room where we are standing.” So sad.

“The Village Blacksmith”
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Under a spreading chestnut-tree
      The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
      With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
      Are strong as iron bands. 

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
      His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
      He earns whate’er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
      For he owes not any man.

Read the rest at Poet’s Corner:

Published in: on September 12, 2010 at 12:29 am  Leave a Comment  

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