Quiet, stoic granite men
Long in the land and happy for the stillness,
The solitude of the ancient hayfield,
the thick wood, the craggy shore, the stormy sea
Flinty like the earth
dependable as the seasons
Taciturn Yankees one and all
Of older stuff and remembering the creed
of holding the tongue, stiff upper lip
and shoulder to the task at hand
Idle hands they have not
And we are richer for it.
September 20, 2005 12:41 – While I was driving to work this morning on Rte 101 in NH, one of the NHPR reporters was talking about the new Encyclopedia of New England (http://www.unh.edu/news/news_releases/2005/september/em_050919encyclopedia.htm). They were commenting how New England isn’t just made up of maple syrup, town meetings, and taciturn Yankees.
(Raymond A. Foss)
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Based on Topics: Solitude Poems, Journalism PoemsBased on Keywords: upper, www, england, http, september, granite, remembering, stillness, driving, idle, creed