POEM OF THE DAY

BOOK OF THE DAY

ABOUT THE BOOK :

The world-famous cosmologist and #1 bestselling author of A Brief History of Time leaves us with his final thoughts on the universe's biggest questions in this brilliant posthumous work.

How did the universe begin? Will humanity survive on Earth? Is there intelligent life beyond our solar system? Could artificial intelligence ever outsmart us?

Throughout his extraordinary career, Stephen Hawking expanded our understanding of the universe and unravelled some of its greatest mysteries. But even as his theoretical work on black holes, imaginary time and multiple histories took his mind to the furthest reaches of space, Hawking always believed that science could also be used to fix the problems on our planet.

And now, as we face potentially catastrophic changes here on Earth - from climate change to dwindling natural resources to the threat of artificial super-intelligence - Stephen Hawking turns his attention to the most urgent issues for humankind.

Wide-ranging, intellectually stimulating, passionately argued, and infused with his characteristic humour, BRIEF ANSWERS TO THE BIG QUESTIONS, the final book from one of the greatest minds in history, is a personal view on the challenges we face as a human race, and where we, as a planet, are heading next.

POEM OF THE DAY

*Warren’s Address to the American Soldiers* 

There is never a boy who objects to learning 

“Warren’s Address,” by John Pierpont (1785-1866).

 To stand by one’s own rights is inherent in every

 true American. This poem is doubtless developed

 from Robert Burns’s “Bannockburn.” (1785-1866.)

Stand! the ground’s your own, my braves!

Will ye give it up to slaves?

Will ye look for greener graves?

Hope ye mercy still?

What’s the mercy despots feel?

Hear it in that battle-peal!

Read it on yon bristling steel!

Ask it,—ye who will.

Fear ye foes who kill for hire?

Will ye to your homes retire?

Look behind you! they’re afire!

And, before you, see

Who have done it!—From the vale

On they come!—And will ye quail?—

Leaden rain and iron hail

Let their welcome be!

In the God of battles trust!

Die we may,—and die we must;

But, O, where can dust to dust

Be consigned so well,

As where Heaven its dews shall shed

On the martyred patriot’s bed,

And the rocks shall raise their head,

Of his deeds to tell

John Pierpont.

POEM OF THE DAY

POEM OF THE DAY

Public domain 

Via WIKIMEDIA COMMONS 

The Sandpiper

“The Sandpiper,” by Celia Thaxter (1836-94),

 is placed here because a goodly percentage

 of the children who read it want to learn it.

Across the lonely beach we flit,

One little sandpiper and I,

And fast I gather, bit by bit,

The scattered driftwood, bleached and dry.

The wild waves reach their hands for it,

The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,

As up and down the beach we flit,

One little sandpiper and I.

Above our heads the sullen clouds

Scud, black and swift, across the sky;

Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds

Stand out the white lighthouses high.

Almost as far as eye can reach

I see the close-reefed vessels fly,

As fast we flit along the beach,

One little sandpiper and I.

I watch him as he skims along,

Uttering his sweet and mournful cry;

He starts not at my fitful song,

Nor flash of fluttering drapery.

He has no thought of any wrong,

He scans me with a fearless eye;

Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong,

The little sandpiper and I.

Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night,

When the loosed storm breaks furiously?

My driftwood fire will burn so bright!

To what warm shelter canst thou fly?

I do not fear for thee, though wroth

The tempest rushes through the sky;

For are we not God’s children both,

Thou, little sandpiper, and I?

Celia Thaxter