APPLE-BLOSSOMS. APPLE-BLOSSOMS. I sit in the shadow of apple-boughs, In the fragrant orchard close, And around me floats the scented air, With its wave-like tidal flows. I close my eyes in a dreamy bliss, And call no king my peer; For is not this the rare, sweet time, The blossoming time of the year? I lie on a couch of downy grass, With delicate blossoms strewn, And I feel the throb of Nature's heart Responsive to my own. Oh, the world is fair, and God is good, That maketh life so dear; For is not this the rare, sweet time, The blossoming time of the year? I can see, through the rifts of the apple-boughs, The delicate blue of the sky, And the changing clouds with their marvellous tints That drift so lazily by. And strange, sweet thoughts sing through my brain, And Heaven, it seemeth near; Oh, is it not a rare, sweet time, The blossoming time of the year? SUMMER HOURS. It is the year's high noon, The earth sweet incense yields, And o'er the fresh, green fields Bends the clear sky of June. I leave the crowded streets, The hum of busy life, Its clamor and its strife, To breathe thy perfumed sweets. O rare and golden hours! The bird's melodious song, Wavelike, is borne along Upon a strand of flowers. I wander far away, Where, through the forest trees, Sports the cool summer breeze, In wild and wanton play. A patriarchal elm Its stately form uprears, Which twice a hundred years Has ruled this woodland realm. I sit beneath its shade, And watch, with careless eye, The brook that babbles by, And cools the leafy glade. In truth I wonder not, That in the ancient days The temples of God's praise Were grove and leafy grot. The noblest ever planned, With quaint device and rare, By man, can ill compare With these from God's own hand. Pilgrim with way-worn feet, Who, treading life's dull round, No true repose hast found, Come to this green retreat. For bird, and flower, and tree, Green fields, and woodland wild, Shall bear, with voices mild, Sweet messages to thee. JUNE. Throw open wide your golden gates, O poet-landed month of June, And waft me, on your spicy breath, The melody of birds in tune. O fairest palace of the three, Wherein Queen Summer holdeth sway, I gaze upon your leafy courts From out the vestibule of May. I fain would tread your garden walks, Or in your shady bowers recline; Then open wide your golden gates, And make them mine, and make them mine. LITTLE CHARLIE. A VIOLET grew by the river-side, And gladdened all hearts with its bloom; While over the fields, on the scented air, It breathed a rich perfume. But the clouds grew dark in the angry sky, And its portals were opened wide; And the heavy rain beat down the flower That grew by the river-side. Not far away in a pleasant home, There lived a little boy, Whose cheerful face and childish grace Filled every heart with joy. He wandered one day to the river's verge, With no one near to save; And the heart that we loved with a boundless love Was stilled in the restless wave. The sky grew dark to our tearful eyes, And we bade farewell to joy; For our hearts were bound by a sorrowful tie To the grave of the little boy. The birds still sing in the leafy tree That shadows the open door; We heed them not, for we think of the voice That we shall hear no more. We think of him at eventide, And gaze on his vacant chair With a longing heart that will scarce believe That Charlie is not there. We seem to hear his ringing laugh, And his bounding step at the door; But, alas! there comes the sorrowful thought, We shall never hear them more! We shall walk sometimes to his little grave, In the pleasant summer hours; We will speak his name in a softened voice, And cover his grave with flowers; We will think of him in his heavenly home,— In his heavenly home so fair; And we will trust with a hopeful trust That we shall meet him there. THE WHIPPOORWILL AND I. IN the hushed hours of night, when the air quite still, I hear the strange cry of the lone whippoorwill, Who Chants, without ceasing, that wonderful trill, Of which the sole burden is still, "Whip-poor-Will." And why should I whip him? Strange visitant, Has he been playing truant this long summer day? I listened a moment; more clear and more shrill Rang the voice of the bird, as he cried, "Whip-poor-Will." But what has poor Will done? I ask you once more; I'll whip him, don't fear, if you'll tell me what for. I paused for an answer; o'er valley and hill Rang the voice of the bird, as he cried, "Whip-poor-Will." Has he come to your dwelling, by night or by day, And snatched the young birds from their warm nest away? I paused for an answer; o'er valley and hill Rang the voice of the bird, as he cried, "Whip-poor-Will." Well, well, I can hear you, don't have any fears, I can hear what is constantly dinned in my ears. The obstinate bird, with his wonderful trill, Still made but one answer, and that, "Whip-poor-Will." But what HAS poor Will done? I prithee explain; I'm out of all patience, don't mock me again. The obstinate bird, with his wonderful trill, Still made the same answer, and that, "Whip-poor-Will." Well, have your own way, then; but if you won't tell, I'll shut down the window, and bid you farewell; But of one thing be sure, I won't whip him until You give me some reason for whipping poor Will. I listened a moment, as if for reply, But nothing was heard but the bird's mocking cry. I caught the faint echo from valley and hill; It breathed the same burden, that strange "Whip-poor-Will." CARVING A NAME. I wrote my name upon the sand, And trusted it would stand for aye; But, soon, alas! the refluent sea Had washed my feeble lines away. I carved my name upon the wood, And, after years, returned again; I missed the shadow of the tree That stretched of old upon the plain. To solid marble next, my name I gave as a perpetual trust; An earthquake rent it to its base, And now it lies, o'erlaid with dust. All these have failed. In wiser mood I turn and ask myself, "What then?" If I would have my name endure, I'll write it on the hearts of men, In characters of living light, Of kindly deeds and actions wrought. And these, beyond the touch of time, Shall live immortal as my thought. IN TIME OF WAR. GONE TO THE WAR. My Charlie has gone to the war, My Charlie so brave and tall; He left his plough in the furrow, And flew at his country's call. May God in safety keep him,— My precious boy—my all! My heart is pining to see him; I miss him every day; My heart is weary with waiting, And sick of the long delay,— But I know his country needs him, And I could not bid him stay. I remember how his face flushed, And how his color came, When the flash from the guns of Sumter Lit the whole land with flame, And darkened our country's banner With the crimson hue of shame. "Mother," he said, then faltered,— I felt his mute appeal; I paused—if you are a mother, You know what mothers feel, When called to yield their dear ones To the cruel bullet and steel. My heart stood still for a moment, Struck with a mighty woe; A faint as of death came o'er me, I am a mother, you know, But I sternly checked my weakness, And firmly bade him "Go." Wherever the fight is fiercest I know that my boy will be; Wherever the need is sorest Of the stout arms of the free. May he prove as true to his country As he has been true to me. My home is lonely without him, My hearth bereft of joy, The thought of him who has left me My constant sad employ; But God has been good to the mother,— She shall not blush for her boy. WHERE IS MY BOY TO-NIGHT? When the clouds in the Western sky Flush red with the setting sun,— When the veil of twilight falls, And the busy day is done,— I sit and watch the clouds, With their crimson hues alight, And ponder with anxious heart, Oh, where is my boy to-night? It is just a year to-day Since he bade me a gay good-by, To march where banners float, And the deadly missiles fly. As I marked his martial step I felt my color rise With all a mother's pride, And my heart was in my eyes. There's a little room close by, Where I often used to creep In the hush of the summer night To watch my boy asleep. But he who used to rest Beneath the spread so white Is far away from me now,— Oh, where is my boy to-night? Perchance in the gathering night, With slow and weary feet, By the light of Southern stars, He paces his lonely beat. Does he think of the mother's heart That will never cease to yearn, As only a mother's can, For her absent boy's return? Oh, where is my boy to-night? I cannot answer where, But I know, wherever he is, He is under our Father's care. May He guard, and guide, and bless My boy, wherever he be, And bring him back at length To bless and to comfort me. May God bless all our boys By the camp-fire's ruddy glow, Or when in the deadly fight They front the embattled foe; And comfort each mother's heart, As she sits in the fading light, And ponders with anxious heart— Oh, where is my boy to-night? A SOLDIER'S VALENTINE. Just from the sentry's tramp (I must take it again at ten), I have laid my musket down, And seized instead my pen; For, pacing my lonely round In the chilly twilight gray, The thought, dear Mary, came, That this is St. Valentine's Day. And with the thought there came A glimpse of the happy time When a school-boy's first attempt I sent you, in borrowed rhyme, On a gilt-edged sheet, embossed With many a quaint design, And signed, in school-boy hand, "Your loving Valentine." The years have come and gone,— Have flown, I know not where,— And the school-boy's merry face Is grave with manhood's care; But the heart of the man still beats At the well-remembered name, And on this St. Valentine's Day His choice is still the same. There was a time—ah, well! Think not that I repine When I dreamed this happy day Would smile on you as mine; But I heard my country's call; I knew her need was sore. Thank God, no selfish thought Withheld me from the war. But when the dear old flag Shall float in its ancient pride, When the twain shall be made one, And feuds no more divide,— I will lay my musket down, My martial garb resign, And turn my joyous feet Toward home and Valentine. LAST WORDS. "DEAR Charlie," breathed a soldier, "O comrade true and tried, Who in the heat of battle Pressed closely to my side; I feel that I am stricken, My life is ebbing fast; I fain would have you with me, Dear Charlie, till the last. "It seems so sudden, Charlie, To think to-morrow's sun Will look upon me lifeless, And I not twenty-one! I little dreamed this morning, Twould bring my last campaign; God's ways are not as our ways, And I will not complain. "There's one at home, dear Charlie, Will mourn for me when dead, Whose heart—it is a mother's— Can scarce be comforted. You'll write and tell her, Charlie, With my dear love, that I Fought bravely as a soldier should, And died as he should die. "And you will tell her, Charlie, She must not grieve too much, Our country claims our young lives, For she has need of such. And where is he would falter, Or turn ignobly back, When Duty's voice cries 'Forward,' And Honor lights the track? "And there's another, Charlie (His voice became more low), When thoughts of HER come o'er me, It makes it hard to go. This locket in my bosom, She gave me just before I left my native village For the fearful scenes of war. "Give her this message, Charlie, Sent with my dying breath, To her and to my banner I'm 'faithful unto death.' And if, in that far country Which I am going to, Our earthly ties may enter, I'll there my love renew. "Come nearer, closer, Charlie, My head I fain would rest, It must be for the last time, Upon your faithful breast. Dear friend, I cannot tell you How in my heart I feel The depth of your devotion, Your friendship strong as steel. "We've watched and camped together In sunshine and in rain; We've shared the toils and perils Of more than one campaign; And when my tired feet faltered, Beneath the noontide heat, Your words sustained my courage, Gave new strength to my feet. "And once,—'twas at Antietam,— Pressed hard by thronging foes, I almost sank exhausted Beneath their cruel blows,— When you, dear friend, undaunted, With headlong courage threw Your heart into the contest, And safely brought me through. "My words are weak, dear Charlie, My breath is growing scant; Your hand upon my heart there, Can you not hear me pant? Your thoughts I know will wander Sometimes to where I lie— How dark it grows! True comrade And faithful friend, good-by!" A moment, and he lay there A statue, pale and calm. His youthful head reclining Upon his comrade's arm. His limbs upon the greensward Were stretched in careless grace, And by the fitful moon was seen A smile upon his face. SONG OF THE CROAKER. (*) * Written by request for the Philadelphia Sanitary Fair. An old frog lived in a dismal swamp, In a dismal kind of way; And all that he did, whatever befell, Was to croak the livelong day. Croak, croak, croak, When darkness filled the air, And croak, croak, croak, When the skies were bright and fair. "Good Master Frog, a battle is fought, And the foeman's power is broke." But he only turned a greener hue, And answered with a croak. Croak, croak, croak, When the clouds are dark and dun, And croak, croak, croak, In the blaze of the noontide sun. "Good Master Frog, the forces of right Are driving the hosts of wrong." But he gave his head an ominous shake, And croaked out, "Nous verrons!" Croak, croak, croak, Till the heart is full of gloom, And croak, croak, croak, Till the world seems but a tomb. To poison the cup of life, By always dreading the worst. Is to make of the earth a dungeon damp, And the happiest life accursed. Croak, croak, croak, When the noontide sun rides high, And croak, croak, croak, Lest the night come by and by. Farewell to the dismal frog; Let him croak as loud as he may, He cannot blot the sun from heaven, Nor hinder the march of day, Though he croak, croak, croak, Till the heart is full of gloom, And croak, croak, croak, Till the world seems but a tomb. KING COTTON. KING COTTON looks from his window Towards the westering sun, And he marks, with an anguished horror, That his race is almost run. His form is thin and shrunken; His cheek is pale and wan; And the lines of care on his furrowed brow Are dread to look upon. But yesterday a monarch, In the flush of his pomp and pride, And, not content with his own broad lands, He would rule the world beside. He built him a stately palace, With gold from beyond the sea; And he laid with care the corner-stone, And he called it Slavery: He summoned an army with banners, To keep his foes at bay; And, gazing with pride on his palace walls, He said, "They will stand for aye!" But the palace walls are shrunken, And partly overthrown, And the storms of war, in their violence, Have loosened the corner-stone. Now Famine stalks through the palace halls, With her gaunt and pallid train; You can hear the cries of famished men, As they cry for bread in vain. The king can see, from his palace walls. A land by his pride betrayed; Thousands of mothers and wives bereft. Thousands of graves new-made. And he seems to see, in the lowering sky, The shape of a flaming sword; Whereon he reads, with a sinking heart, The anger of the Lord. God speed the time when the guilty king Shall be hurled from his blood-stained throne; And the palace of Wrong shall crumble to dust, With its boasted corner-stone. A temple of Freedom shall rise instead, On the desecrated site: And within its shelter alike shall stand The black man and the white. OUT OF EGYPT. To Egypt's king, who ruled beside The reedy river's flow, Came God's command, "Release, O king, And let my people go." The king's proud heart grew hard apace; He marked the suppliant throng, And said, "Nay, they must here abide; The weak must serve the strong." Straightway the Lord stretched forth his hand, And every stream ran blood; The river swept towards the sea— A full ensanguined flood. The haughty king beheld the land, By plagues afflicted sore, But, as God's wonders multiplied, Hardened his heart the more; Until the angel of the Lord Came on the wings of Night, And smote first-born of man and beast, In his destructive flight. Throughout all Egypt, not a house Was spared this crowning woe. Then broke the tyrant's stubborn will; He bade the people go. They gathered up their flocks and herds, Rejoicing to be free; And, going forth, a mighty host, Encamped beside the sea. Then Pharaoh's heart repented him; He called a mighty force, And swiftly followed on their track, With chariot and with horse. Then Israel's host were sore afraid; But God was on their side, And, lo! for them a way is cleft, The Red-sea waves divide. At God's command the restless waves Obey the prophet's rod; And, through the middle of the sea, The people marched dry-shod. But, when the spoilers, following close, Would hinder Israel's flight, The waters to their course return, The parted waves unite, And Pharaoh's host is swept away, The chariots and the horse; And not a man is left alive Of all that mighty force. So in these days God looks from heaven, And marks his servants' woe; Hear ye his voice: "Break every yoke, And let my people go!" For them the Red-sea waves divide, The streams with crimson flow; Therefore we mourn for our first-born;— Then let the people go. They are not weak whom God befriends, He makes their cause His own; And they who fight against God's might Shall surely be o'erthrown. THE PRICE OF VICTORY. "A VICTORY!—a victory!" Is flashed across the wires; Speed, speed the news from State to State, Light up the signal fires! Let all the bells from all the towers A joyous peal ring out; We've gained a glorious victory, And put the foe to rout! A mother heard the chiming bells; Her joy was mixed with pain. "Pray God," she said, "my gallant boy Be not among the slain!" Alas for her! that very hour Outstretched in death he lay, The color from his fair, young face Had scarcely passed away. His nerveless hand still grasped the sword. He never more might wield, His eyes were sealed in dreamless sleep Upon that bloody field. The chestnut curls his mother oft Had stroked in fondest pride, Neglected hung in clotted locks, With deepest crimson dyed. Ah! many a mother's heart shall ache, And bleed with anguish sore, When tidings come of him who marched So blithely forth to war. Oh! sad for them, the stricken down In manhood's early dawn, And sadder yet for loving hearts. God comfort them that mourn! Yes, victory has a fearful price Our hearts may shrink to pay, And tears will mingle with the joy That greets a glorious day. But he who dies in freedom's cause, We cannot count him lost; A battle won for truth and right Is worth the blood it cost! O mothers! count it something gained That they, for whom you mourn, Bequeath fair Freedom's heritage To millions yet unborn;— And better than a thousand years Of base, ignoble breath, A patriot's fragrant memory, A hero's early death! HARVARD ODES. (SUNG AT ANNUAL DINNERS OF THE HARVARD CLUB OF New York. NEW YORK.) HARVARD ODES. I. (Feb. 23, 1869.) Fair Harvard, dear guide of our youth's golden days; At thy name all our hearts own a thrill, We turn from life's highways, its business, its cares, We are boys in thy tutelage still. And the warm blood of youth to our veins, as of yore, Returns with impetuous flow, Reviving the scenes and the hopes that were ours In the vanished, but sweet Long Ago. Once more through thy walks, Alma Mater, we tread, And we dream youth's fair dreams once again, We are heroes in fight for the Just and the Right, We are knights without fear, without stain; Its doors in fair prospect the world opens wide, Its prizes seem easy to win,— We are strong in our faith, we are bold in our might, And we long for the race to begin. Though dimmed are our hopes, and our visions are fled, Our dreams were but dreams, it is true; Dust-stained from the contest we gather to-night, The sweet dreams of youth to renew. Enough for to-morrow the cares it shall bring, We are boys, we are brothers, to-night; And our hearts, warm with love, Alma Mater, to thee, Shall in loyal devotion unite. II. (Feb. 11, 1870.) As we meet in thy name, Alma Mater, to-night, All our hearts and our hopes are as one, And love for the mother that nurtured his youth Beats high in the breast of each son. The sweet chords of Memory bridge o'er the Past, The years fade away like a dream, By the banks of Cephissus, beneath the green trees, We tread thy fair walks, Academe. The heights of Hymettus that bound the near view Fill the air with an odor as sweet As the beautiful clusters of sun-tinted grapes From the vineyards that lie at our feet. O realm of enchantment, O Wonderful land, Where the gods hold high converse with men, Come out from the dusk of past ages once more, And live in our fancy again. Let us drink to the Past as our glasses we lift, Let eye speak to eye, heart to heart, Let the bonds of sweet fellowship bind each to each, In the hours that remain ere we part. And thou, Alma Mater, grown fairer with age, Let us echo the blessing that fell From thy motherly lips, as we stood at thy side, And thou bad'st us God-speed and Farewell. III. (Feb. 21, 1872.) Fair Harvard, the months have accomplished their round And a year stands full-orbed and complete, Since last at thy summons, with dutiful hearts, Thy children sat here at thy feet. Since last in thy presence, grown youthful once more, We drank to the past and its joys, Shaking off every care that encumbered our years, And dreamed that again we were boys. To-night once again in thy presence we meet In the freshness and flush of life's spring; We wait but thy blessing, we ask but thy smile, As our sails to the free air we fling. The winds breathe auspicious that waft us along, The sky, undisturbed, smiles serene, Hope stands at the prow, and the waters gleam bright With sparkles of silvery sheen. And thy voice, Alma Mater, so potent and sweet, Still sounds in our ears as of yore, And thy motherly counsel we hear, wisdom-fraught, As we push our frail barks from the shore. From the foam-crested waves of the mountainous sea As backward our glances we strain, We see the dear face of our mother benign, And bless her again and again. IV. (Feb. 21, 1873.) There's a fountain of Fable whose magical power Time's ravages all could repair, And replace the bowed form and the tottering step, The wrinkles and silvery hair, By the brown flowing locks and the graces of youth, Its footstep elastic and light, Could mantle the cheek with its long-vanished bloom And make the dull eye keen and bright. 'Tis only a fable—a beautiful dream, But the fable, the dream, shall come true, As thy sons, Alma Mater, assemble to-night The joys of past years to renew. Our eyes shall grow bright with their old wonted light, Our spirits untrammelled by care, And the Goddess of Hope, with her fresh rainbow tints, Shall paint every prospect more fair. How sweet were the friendships we formed in thy halls! How strong were the tendrils that bound Our hearts to the mother whose provident care Encompassed her children around! Now strong in our manhood we cherish her still; And if by misfortune brought low, Our strength shall support her, our arms bear her up, And sustain her through weal and through woe. OCCASIONAL ODES. BI-CENTENNIAL ODE. (*) (June 13, 1860.) * Sung at the bi-centennial celebration of the incorporation of Marlboro, Mass. From the door of the homestead the mother looks forth, With a glance half of hope, half of fear, For the clock in the corner now points to the hour When the children she loves should appear. For have they not promised, whatever betide, On this their dear mother's birthday, To gather once more round the family board, Their dutiful service to pay? From the East and the West, from the North and the South, In communion and intercourse sweet, Her children have come, on this festival day, To sit, as of old, at her feet. And our mother,—God bless her benevolent face!— How her heart thrills with motherly joys, As she stands at the portal, with arms opened wide, To welcome her girls and her boys. And yet, when the first joyful greetings are o'er, When the words of her welcome are said: A shadow creeps over her motherly face, As she silently thinks of the dead, Of the children whose voices once rang through her fields, Who shared all her hopes and alarms, Till, tired with the burden and heat of the day, They have fallen asleep in her arms. They have gone from our midst, but their labors abide On the fields where they prayerfully wrought; They scattered the seed, but the harvest is ours, By their toil and self-sacrifice bought. As we scan the fair scene that once greeted their eyes, As we tread the same paths which they trod, Let us tenderly think of our elders by birth, Who have gone to their rest, and their God. God bless the old homestead! some linger there still, In the haunts which their childhood has known, While others have wandered to places remote, And planted new homes of their own; But Time cannot weaken the ties Love creates, Nor absence, nor distance, impede The filial devotion which thrills all our hearts, As we bid our old mother God-speed. FOR THE CONSECRATION OF A CEMETERY. This verdant field that smiles to Heaven In Nature's bright array, From common uses set apart, We consecrate to-day. "God's Acre" be it fitly called, For when, beneath the sod, We lay the dead with reverent hands, We yield them back to God. And His great love, so freely given, Shall speak in clearer tones, When, pacing through these hallowed walks, We read memorial stones. Here let the sunshine softly fall, And gently drop the rain, And Nature's countless harmonies Blend one accordant strain; That they who seek this sacred place, In mourning solitude, In all this gracious company May have their faith renewed. So, lifted to serener heights, And purified from dross, Their trustful hearts shall rest on God, And profit by their loss. *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAND'THER BALDWIN'S THANKSGIVING, WITH OTHER BALLADS AND POEMS *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. START: FULL LICENSE THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG™ LICENSE PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg License available with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license. Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg electronic works 1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. 1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg electronic works even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. 1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project Gutenberg electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg name associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg License when you share it without charge with others. 1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country other than the United States. 1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: 1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg License must appear prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg work (any work on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied or distributed: This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org . If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. 1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg electronic work is derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. 1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. 1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg. 1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg License. 1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg work in a format other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. 1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. 1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg electronic works provided that: • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works. • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work. • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. 1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. 1.F. 1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. 1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE. 1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem. 1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. 1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. 1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg work, and (c) any Defect you cause. Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg Project Gutenberg is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life. Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg’s goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg collection will remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project Gutenberg and future generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. The Foundation’s business office is located at 41 Watchung Plaza #516, Montclair NJ 07042, USA, +1 (862) 621-9288. Email contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS. The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate . While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us with offers to donate. International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate. Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg electronic works Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility: www.gutenberg.org . This website includes information about Project Gutenberg, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.