HELPS TO STUDY. Biographical: Edward Rowland Sill was born in Connecticut in 1841. He graduated at Yale and lived most of his life in California, being for some years professor of English language and literature at the State University. Sill was a true poet, but the whole of his literary output is contained in two slender volumes. His poems are noted for their compressed thought. The selection here given shows this quality. Notes and Questions. What do you learn from this poem? Where was the craven when he decided his sword was useless? What word shows that he was there of his own choice? What kind of sword had the craven? What words tell you that he was greatly needed in the thick of the conflict? What kind of sword had the king's son? How long did the king's son look at the discarded sword before using it? If the battle represents life, and the craven and the king's son are types of the people in the world, what do you think the swords represent? Why is this poem called "Opportunity"? Can you think of another title which might be given to it? Such a story as this is called an allegory. "furious"--What is a furious battle? Words and Phrases for Discussion. "craven" "bestead" "hung along the battle's edge" "shocked" "hemmed by foes" * * * * * TO A WATERFOWL WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean-side? There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,-- The desert and illimitable air,-- Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near. And soon that toil shall end; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend Soon o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'rt gone; the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form; yet on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone Will lead my steps aright. HELPS TO STUDY.