“mother dear, may i go downtown
instead of out to play,
and march the streets of birmingham
in a freedom march today? ”
5 “no, baby, no, you may not go,
for the dogs are fierce and wild,
and clubs and hoses, guns and jails
aren’t good for a little child.”
“but, mother, i won’t be alone.
10 other children will go with me,
and march the streets of birmingham
to make our country free.”
“no, baby, no, you may not go,
for i fear those guns will fire.
15 but you may go to church instead
and sing in the children’s choir.”
she has combed and brushed her night-dark hair,
and bathed rose petal sweet,
and drawn white gloves on her small brown hands,
20 and white shoes on her feet.
the mother smiled to know her child
was in the sacred place,
but that smile was the last smile
to come upon her face.
25 for when she heard the explosion,
her eyes grew wet and wild.
she raced through the streets of birmingham
calling for her child.
she clawed through bits of glass and brick,
30 then lifted out a shoe.
“o, here’s the shoe my baby wore,
but, baby, where are you? ” question: why won`t the mother let her child march on the streets of birmingham?

Read the selection below and answer the question. an open boat by alfred noyes o, what is that whimpering there in the darkness? 

 'let him lie in my arms. he is breathing, i know.
 look. i'll wrap all my hair round his neck' – the sea's rising,
 the boat must be lightened. he's dead. he must go.' 


 see - quick - by that flash, where the bitter foam tosses, 
 the cloud of white faces, in the black open boat, 
 and the wild pleading woman that clasps her dead lover 
 and wraps her loose hair round his breast and his throat.
 'come, lady, he's dead.' - 'no, i feel his heart beating,
 he's living, i know. but he's numbed with the cold. 
 see, i'm wrapping my hair all around him to warm him.' -
- 'no. we can't keep the dead, dear. come, loosen your hold.

 'come. loosen your fingers.' - 'o god, let me keep him! ' -
 o, hide it, black night! let the winds have their way! 
 and there are no voices or ghosts from that darkness, 
 to fret the bare seas at the breaking of day. the imagery and word choice in the second stanza creates a tone of liveliness and joy danger and gloom silence and peace anger and hostility

Clearly show? ramona: anna, where does the theme seem to change? anna: according the article: "the fault lies with the fda's inability to release enough information in order to regain the public's trust. but perhaps japan is to blame as well. although there are plans to remove the spent nuclear fuel rods and build a permafrost wall around the four damaged reactors, is this really enough to recover damaged trust? " and then sato goes on to explain this statement. o a. challenging established ideas o b. using evidence to support your conclusions o c. asking clarifying questions o d. synthesizing claims into a single conclusion

Select the contred text in the passage which sentence in this excerpt from john galsworthy's narrative essay "gone" reflects his view that there is no afterlife? an old woman and mrs. herd's sister were in the sitting-room, they showed us to the crazy, narrow stairway. though we lived distant but four hundred yards of a crows flight, we had never seen mrs. herd before, for that is the way of things in this land of minding one's own business a slight dark girlish-looking woman, almost quite refined away, and with those eyes of the dying, where the spirit is coming through, as it only does when it knows that al is over except just the passing. she lay in a double bed with clean white sheets. a white-washed room, so low that the ceiling almost touched our heads, some flowers in a bow, the small lattice window open. though it was hot in there, it was better far than the rooms of most families in towns, living on a wage of twice as much, for here was no sign of defeat in decency or cleanliness. in her face, as in poor herd's, was that same strange minging of resigned despair and almost eager appeal, so terrible to disappoint. yet, trying not to disappoint it, one felt guilty of treachery: what was the good, the kindness in making this poor bird flutter still with hope against the bars, when fast prison had so surely closed in round her? but what else could we do? we could not give her those glib assurances that naive souls make so easily to others concerning their after state. and the night was so beautiful, so utterly glamourously beautiful, with its star-flowers, and its silence and its trees clothed in moonlight. all was tranquil as a dream of sleep. but it was long before our hearts wandering with poor herd, would let us remember that she had slipped away into so beautiful a dream