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Reed Whittemore

Poetry

Summer 1946

On the Record

By Reed Whittemore

(The Rover Boys Grant an Interview to a Reporter for the Brill College News) Reporter.   Tell me, Dick the Elder, how you’ve time   To save Dad, drag a treasure from a bay,   Lead […]

Poetry

Summer 1945

Home Abroad

By Reed Whittemore

More brutal doesn’t live than this big soldier,Minding New Orleans (a gal),Valorous deeds to hold her,And a wedding veil. Distracted not at all by duties foreign,He desecrates his leader’s timeAnd […]

Poetry

Summer 1945

Hester Prynne

By Reed Whittemore

The scaffold where dishonoured Hester stoodOn Sunday morning, hugging little Pearl,Is down, and no one of that sombre crowdHangs on to boo the bad old girl. Even all those magistrates […]

Poetry

Summer 1945

On the Death of Some One Close

By Reed Whittemore

Neither the least nor the mostSorrow is becomingIn this instance.A certain gravity,A solemn pose denotingGrief well-borneIs probably correct. At parties be reserved.Restrain the raucous chuckleAnd the dirty joke.Drink less,Incline to […]

Poetry

Summer 1945

This Is It

By Reed Whittemore

This is the battle to end the buying of bonds,The battle bastards dying don’t in vain.This is the time, men, it, and after you climbThat hill, cross that open space, […]