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Literature 17 Online
OpenStudy (anonymous):

How does Ralph Waldo Emerson creates a sense of immediacy and first-hand experience in "The Snow-Storm"? A. by addressing readers directly B. by narrating events in present tense C. by contrasting winter and spring D. by describing the wind as a mason

OpenStudy (anonymous):

@amistre64

OpenStudy (anonymous):

@animal_lover36

OpenStudy (anonymous):

@cai

OpenStudy (anonymous):

@CausticSyndicalist

OpenStudy (anonymous):

@heavenfun13

OpenStudy (anonymous):

@Here_to_Help15

OpenStudy (anonymous):

@sleepyjess

OpenStudy (anonymous):

@undeadknight26

OpenStudy (here_to_help15):

wow u call me last how rude lol

OpenStudy (anonymous):

IM SORRY I WAS GOING DOWN MY LIST

OpenStudy (here_to_help15):

hahaha

OpenStudy (anonymous):

oops caps

OpenStudy (sleepyjess):

is there anywhere we can read this story?

OpenStudy (anonymous):

can you jjust give me a minute and ill post it up

OpenStudy (anonymous):

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, And veils the farm-house at the garden's end. The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm. Come see the north wind's masonry. Out of an unseen quarry evermore Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer Curves his white bastions with projected roof Round every windward stake, or tree, or door. Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he For number or proportion. Mockingly, On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths; A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn; Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall, Maugre the farmer's sighs; and, at the gate, A tapering turret overtops the work. And when his hours are numbered, and the world Is all his own, retiring, as he were not, Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone, Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow.

OpenStudy (sleepyjess):

nevermind i am horrible with poems

OpenStudy (sleepyjess):

sorry

OpenStudy (anonymous):

o

OpenStudy (anonymous):

do yopu know anyone that is good with poems

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