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In fact many very high profile bloggers are self-proclaimed lousy writers. Most people start out with just one blog but as they gain experience and they sooner or later come up with other ideas for blogs. I am now on my third blog. What I have learned from my previous blogs will assist me in growing the readership of my current blog and blogs I may yet write. Meanwhile, by cultivating my own online network of readers has created its own benefits, like gaining access to seminars, product unveilings, and other events.

I wrote an article on being colorblind that appeared in Buffalo Rising that was read by someone in California. They contacted me and asked if I would be interested in trying out their glasses that help people like me with a color perception problem.

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In fact I am wearing them now. Not too bad for writing a word article on the difficulties I have being colorblind. I also received a call from the owner of a restaurant I had reviewed. Blogging is a great way for me to build up my writing portfolio.

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I get published a few times a week in local newspapers but blogging has enabled me to get readers from Maine to California. I have notebooks with my articles that have been published in local newspapers but by showcasing my writing skills on a blog, I can grow my exposure and possibly find a way to start getting paid for writing.

As the internet and technology become more ingrained in our day-to-day lives, the benefits of blogging become impossible to ignore. Websites such as WordPress. Blogging makes me think about newsworthy topics and the world around me. A blog keeps my mind focused and sharper. Apart from all the benefits of blogging I mentioned above, my blog might someday become a source of income for me when it achieves enough subscribers.

I have not yet made any money off any of my blogs so far but I just might. Norb is an independent journalist and blogger from Lockport. Your Name. Your Email. Advertise With Us.

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Search for:. Lead image: heku. Hide Comments. Subscribe to Buffalo Rising Digest. Subscribe to Buffalo Rising Digest We send fresh and beautiful content to your inbox regularly -- you set the delivery frequency. From distant lands, a thousand sails Your hazy summits greet— [Pg 4] You saw the angry Briton come, You saw him, last, retreat!

With towering crest, you first appear The news of land to tell; To him that comes, fresh joys impart, To him that goes, a heavy heart, The lover's long farewell. Your thousand springs of waters blue What luxury to sip, As from the mountain's breast they flow To moisten Flora's lip! Proud heights! The first five lines of the original version were as follows: "In early days and vanished years To rougher toils resigned, You saw me rove in search of care And leave true bliss behind; You saw me rig the barque so trim," etc.


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America, to every climate known, Spreads her broad bosom to the burning zone, To either pole extends her vast domain Where varying suns o'er different summers reign. Wide wandering streams, vast plains, and pathless woods, Bold shores, confined by circumscribing floods, Denote this land, whose fertile, flowery breast Teems with all life—and man, its nobler guest.

In days of old, from ocean's deepest bed, Gulphs unexplored, and countries of the dead, [Pg 6] Rous'd by some voice, that shook all nature's frame, From the vast depths this new creation came: Perpetual change its varying nature feels, The wave once flow'd that now with frost congeals, Suns on its breast have shed a feebler fire, Oceans have roll'd where mountains now aspire. The soil's proud lord a changeful temper knows, From differing earths his various nature grows: Long, long before the time that sophists plan Existed in these woods the race of man, Warm'd into life by some creating flame, All worlds pervading, and through all, the same!

Not from the west their swarthy tribes they brought, As Europe's pride and Asia's folly taught;— With the same ease the great disposing power Produced a man, a reptile, or a flower:— See the swift deer, in lonely wilds that strays, See the tall elk, that in the valley plays, See the fierce tiger's raging, ravenous band, And wolves their race as ancient as the land Did these of old from bleak Kamschatka come, And traverse seas, to find a happier home?

At first, half beasts, untaught to till the land, Careless, you fed from Nature's fostering hand; In depths of deserts dream'd your lives away, Sought no new worlds, nor look'd beyond to-day: The Almighty power, that lives and breathes through all, Bade some faint rays on these dark nations fall; Early, to them did reasoning souls impart, Inventive genius, and some dawn of art; Then left them here, with sense enough to win, Or cheat the bear, or panther of his skin; Mean huts to build, regardless of their form, [Pg 7] Completely blest, if shelter'd from the storm; To see the seasons change, day turn to night: Bow to the lamps of heaven that gave them light, Beam'd on the spring, or bade the summer glow, Their harvests ripen, and their gardens grow—.

Wash'd by surrounding seas, and bold her coasts, A grateful soil the fair Rhode Island boasts. The admiring eye no happier fields can trace, Here seas are crowned with the scaly race, Nature has strove to make her native blest And owns no fairer Eden in the west: Here lovliest dames in frequent circles seen, Catch the fine tint of health from beauty's queen, No aid they want to seize the enraptur'd view Nor art's false colours to improve the true; Here, love the traveller holds—loth to depart Some charming creature slays his wandering heart, Bids him forget from clime to clime to rove, And even dull prudence—here—submits to love.

On grassy farms, their souls enslav'd to gain, Reside the masters of the rural reign; Vast herds they feed, that glut the abundant pail, Break the stiff sod, or freight the adventurous sail; The nervous steed, the stanchest of the kind Here walks his rounds in pastures unconfin'd:— Half that the lands produce or seas contain To other shores transported o'er the main Returns in coin, to cheer the miser's eye, In foreign sweets , that fancied wants supply, Or tawdry stuffs, to deck the limbs of pride, That thus expends what avarice strove to hide.

But leaves the wretched to subsist on grief! In lost advice his days the gownsman spends, He gives his prayers and teachings to the winds,— In vain he tells of virtue's sure reward; No words but this attract a swain's regard— Talk not of Laws! Hurt at the view, I leave the ungrateful shore And thy rough soil, Connecticut, explore:. Here fond remembrance stampt her much loved names, Here boasts the soil its London and its Thames; Through all her shores commodious ports abound, Clear flow the waters of the unequal ground; Cold nipping winds a lengthened winter bring, Late rise the products of the unwilling spring, The impoverished fields the labourer's pains disgrace, And hawks and vultures scream through all the place; The broken soil a nervous breed requires, Where the rough glebe no generous crops admires— Dame Nature meanly did her gifts impart, But smiles to see how much is forced by art.

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In contact close their neat abodes are thrown, Its house, each acre; every mile, its town; With glittering spire the frequent church is seen, [8] Where yews and myrtles wave their gloomy green, Where fast-day sermons tell the hungry guest That a cameleon's dinner is the best: There mobs of deacons awe the ungodly wight, And hell's black master meets the unequal fight— Eternal squabblings grease the lawyer's paw, All have their suits, and all have studied Law: With tongue, that Art and Nature taught to speak, Some rave in Latin, some dispute in Greek: Proud of their parts, in ancient lore they shine, And one month's study makes a learned Divine; [9] Bards of huge fame in every hamlet rise, Each in idea of Virgilian size: Even beardless lads a rhyming knack display— Iliads begun, and finished in a day!

Rhymes, that of old on Blackmore's wheel were spun, Come rattling down on Zion's reverend son; [10] Madly presumed time's vortex to defy! Things born to live an hour—then squeak and die.


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Some, to grow rich, through Indian forests roam, Some deem it best to stay and thrive at home: In spite of all the priest and squire can say, This world—this wicked world—will have its way; Honest through fear, religious by constraint, How hard to tell the sharper from the saint! Yet, brave in arms, of enterprizing soul, They tempt old Neptune to the farthest pole, In learning's walks explore the mazy way, For genius there has shed his golden ray In war's bold art through many a contest tried True to themselves, they took the nobler side, And party feuds forgot, joined to agree That power alone supreme—that left them free.

Here, in vast flocks, the fleecy nation strays, Here, endless herds the upland meadow graze, Here smiling plenty crowns the labourer's pain And blooming beauty weds the industrious swain: Were this thy all, what happier state could be! Here, first, to quench her once loved Freedom's flame, With their proud fleets, Britannia's warriors came; Here, sure to conquer, she began her fires, Here, sent her lords, her admirals, and her squires: All, all too weak to effect the vast design [12] For which we saw half Europe's arms combine, Uncounted navies rove from main to main, Threats, bribery, treachery—tried and tried again; Mandate on mandate, edict, and decree, To rivet fetters, and enslave the free!

Long, long from Boston's hills shall strangers gaze On those vast mounds that magic seemed to raise; Stupendous piles that hastened Britain's flight, [Pg 12] Extended hills, the offspring of a night!

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Sons of the earth, for plodding genius fam'd, Batavia long her earth-born natives claim'd: Begot from industry, and not from love, Swarming at length, to these fair climes they move. No female fears in her firm breast prevail, The helm she handles and she trims the sail, In some small barque the way to market finds, Hauls aft the sheet, or veers it to the winds, While placed a-head, subservient to her will, Hans smokes his pipe, and wonders at her skill. Health to their toils—thus may they still go on— Curse on my pen! What pictures have I drawn!

Is this the general taste? No Truth replies — If fond of beauty, guiltless of disguise, See— where, the social circle meant to grace The fair Cesarean shades her lovely face,— She, earlier held to happier tasks at home, Prefers the labours that her sex become, Remote from view, directs some favourite art, And leaves to hardier man the ruder part. Spread with stupendous hills, far from the main, Fair Pennsylvania holds her golden rein, In fertile fields her wheaten harvest grows, Charged with its freights her favorite Delaware flows; From Erie's Lake her soil with plenty teems [Pg 14] To where the Schuylkill rolls his limpid streams— Sweet stream!

She, famed for science, arts, and polished men, Admires her Franklin, but adores her Penn, Who, wandering here, made barren forests bloom, And the new soil a happier robe assume: He planned no schemes that virtue disapproves, He robbed no Indian of his native groves, But, just to all, beheld his tribes increase, Did what he could to bind the world in peace, And, far retreating from a selfish band, Bade Freedom flourish in this foreign land. Gay towns unnumbered shine through all her plains, Here every art its happiest height attains: The graceful ship, on nice proportions planned, Here finds perfection from the builder's hand, To distant worlds commercial visits pays, Or war's bold thunder o'er the deep conveys.

Laved by vast depths that swell on either side Where Chesapeake intrudes his midway tide, Gay Maryland attracts the admiring eye, A fertile region with a temperate sky. In years elapsed, her heroes of renown From British Anna named one favourite town: [B] But, lost her commerce, though she guards their laws, Proud Baltimore that envied commerce draws.

Few are the years since there, at random placed, Some wretched huts her quiet-port disgraced; Safe from all winds, and covered from the bay, There, at his ease, the thoughtless native lay. Now, rich and great, no more a slave to sloth, She claims importance from her towering growth— High in renown, her streets and domes arranged, A groupe of cabins to a city changed.

Though rich at home, to foreign lands they stray, For foreign trappings trade the wealth away. Politest manners through their towns prevail, And pleasure revels, though their funds should fail; [Pg 16] In each gay dome, soft music charms its lord, Where female beauty strikes the trembling chord; On the fine air with nicest touches dwells, While from the tongue the according ditty swells: Proud to be seen, 'tis their's to place delight In dances measured by the winter's night, The evening feast, that wine and mirth prolong, The lamp of splendor, and the midnight song.

Religion here no gloomy garb assumes, Exchanged her tears for patches and for plumes: The blooming belle untaught heaven's beaus to win Talks not of seraphs, but the world she's in: Attached to earth, here born, and to decay, She leaves to better worlds all finer clay. In those, whom choice or different fortunes place On rural scenes, a different mind we trace; There solitude, that still to dullness tends, To rustic forms no sprightly action lends; Heeds not the garb, mopes o'er the evening fire; And bids the maiden from the man retire.

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On winding floods the lofty mansion stands, That casts a mournful view o'er neighbouring lands; There the sad master strays amidst his grounds, Directs his negroes, or reviews his hounds; Then home returning, plies his pasteboard play, Or dreams o'er wine, that hardly makes him gay: If some chance guest arrive in weary plight, He more than bids him welcome for the night; Kind to profusion, spares no pains to please, Gives him the product of his fields and trees; On his rich board shines plenty from her source, —The meanest dish of all his own discourse.

Vast in extent, Virginia meets our view, With streams immense, dark groves, and mountains blue; First in provincial rank she long was seen, Built the first town, and first subdued the plain: This was her praise—but what can years avail, When times succeeding see her efforts fail! On northern fields more vigorous arts display, Where pleasure holds no universal sway; No herds of slaves parade their sooty band From the rough plough to save the fopling's hand, Where urgent wants the daily pittance ask, Compel to labour, and complete the task. With watchful eye maintains his much-loved fire, Nor even in summer lets its sparks expire— At night returns, his evening toils to share, Lament his rags, or sleep away his care, Bind up the recent wound, with many a groan; Or thank his gods that Sunday is his own.

To these far climes the scheming Scotchman flies, Quits his bleak hills to court Virginian skies; Removed from oat-meal, sour-crout, debts, and duns, Prudent, he hastes to bask in kinder suns; Marks well the native—views his weaker side, And heaps up wealth from luxury and pride, Exports the produce of a thousand plains, Nor fears a rival, to divide his gains. Deep in their beds, as distant to their source Here many a river winds its wandering course: Proud of her bulky freight, through plains and woods Moves the tall ship, majestic, o'er the floods, Where James's strength the ocean brine repels, Or, like a sea, the deep Potowmack swells: Yet here the sailor views with wondering eye Impoverished fields that near their margins lie, Mercantile towns, where languor holds her reign, And boors inactive, on the exhausted plain.