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      <title>Henry David Thoreau  by Bruno Castro</title>
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      <description>Made by: Bruno Castro</description>
      <language>en-us</language>
      <pubDate>2018-10-31 14:41:34 UTC</pubDate>
      <lastBuildDate>2018-11-01 14:59:52 UTC</lastBuildDate>
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         <title>Thoreau&#39;s Life </title>
         <author>bcastro033</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/bcastro033/zfoh906745oi/wish/299010590</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Henry David Thoreau was born on July 12, 1817, in Concord, Massachusetts and he died on May 6, 1862, in Concord, Massachusetts.  He began writing nature poetry in the 1840s, with poet Ralph Waldo Emerson as a mentor and friend. In 1845 he began his famous two-year stay on Walden Pond, which he wrote about in his master work, Walden. He also became known for his beliefs in Transcendentalism and civil disobedience, and was a dedicated abolitionist.</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-10-31 14:51:50 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Henry Thoreau Published Books </title>
         <author>bcastro033</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/bcastro033/zfoh906745oi/wish/299387807</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Walden(1854) <br>Civil Disobedience(1849)<br>Walking(1861) <br>Where I lived, and What i Lived For(1824)<br>A Week On The Concord and Merrimack Rivers(1849)<br>Cape Cod(1865)<br>Life Without Principle(1862)</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-11-01 14:31:38 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Characteristics of Thoreau Writing </title>
         <author>bcastro033</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/bcastro033/zfoh906745oi/wish/299393312</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Metaphor <br>Filled with sentences that pile on observation <br>Reflection <br>Personification <br>Romanticism <br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-11-01 14:40:11 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title> “Where I Lived and What I lived For”</title>
         <author>bcastro033</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/bcastro033/zfoh906745oi/wish/299402409</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div> When first I took up my abode in the woods, that is, began to spend my nights as well as days there, which, by accident, was on Independence day, or the fourth of July, 1845, my house was not finished for winter, but was merely a defense against the rain, without plastering or chimney, the walls being of rough weather-stained boards, with wide chinks, which made it cool at night. The upright white hewn studs and freshly planed door and window casings gave it a clean and airy look, especially in the morning when its timbers were saturated with dew, so that I fancied that by noon some sweet gum would exude from them…. <br><br><mark>I was seated by the shore of a small pond</mark>(Romanticism), about a mile and a half south of the village of Concord and somewhat higher than it, in the midst of an extensive wood between that town and known to fame, Concord Battle Ground; but I was so low in the woods that the opposite shore, half a mile off, like the rest, covered with wood, was my most distant horizon. For the first week, whenever I looked out on the pond it impressed me like a tarn high up on the side of a mountain, its bottom far above the surface of other lakes, and, as the sun arose, I saw it throwing off its nightly clothing of mist, and here and there by degrees, while the mists, like ghosts, were stealthily withdrawing in every direction into the woods, as at the breaking up of some nocturnal conventicler. The very dew seemed to hang upon the trees later into the day than usual, as on the sides of mountains…. </div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-11-01 14:55:34 UTC</pubDate>
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