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Brookline, MassachusettsBrookline is a town in Norfolk County, Massachusetts, although it isn't actually contiguous with the main body of the county. It borders Boston, Massachusetts and Newton, Massachusetts. As of the 2000 census, the population of the town is 57,107.
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President John F. Kennedy was born here. It was also the home of Frederick Law Olmsted, an influential American landscape architect, and Michael Dukakis, former Governor of Massachusetts and Democratic Presidential candidate in 1988.
There are 25,594 households out of which 21.9% have children under the age of 18 living with them, 38.4% are married couples living together, 7.1% have a woman whose husband doesn't live with her, and 52.2% are non-families. 36.7% of all households are made up of individuals and 10.1% have someone living alone who is 65 years of age or older. The average household size is 2.18 and the average family size is 2.86.
In the town the population is spread out with 16.6% under the age of 18, 11.7% from 18 to 24, 37.3% from 25 to 44, 21.9% from 45 to 64, and 12.4% who are 65 years of age or older. The median age is 34 years. For every 100 females there are 82.6 males. For every 100 females age 18 and over, there are 79.1 males.
The median income for a household in the town is $66,711, and the median income for a family is $92,993. Males have a median income of $56,861 versus $43,436 for females. The per capita income for the town is $44,327. 9.3% of the population and 4.5% of families are below the poverty line. Out of the total people living in poverty, 5.3% are under the age of 18 and 7.5% are 65 or older.
Ah! what doubt can then dismay
I can bid my doubting cease,
Fighting, yet at perfect.html">perfect peace--
Tossed, yet feeling.html">feeling all secure;
While my peace with Him is sure!
Soul at anchor, heart.html">heart at rest!
A merry leap on the sunny air,
A 'witching face.html">face that is wonderous fair,
Wild wandering waves that are mad with glee;
Are their words in their music?" she asks of me.
I start and shiver, my heart grows cold,
Whose glory lies on the sea like gold,
For the pain on my face was plain to see,
Watching the billows silently.
She does not know--could my darling dream,
Where the hope-flowers bloom, and the joy-lights gleam
And the perfect faith in your fair to be,
That spans the gulf 'tween the past and me.
I could show you love in its full-tide swell,
Then, the gathering storm, and the deep-toned knell,
That circle to-day round your dainty feet,
In the dregs of that chalice, bitter-sweet?
Ah! no, sweet maid, you must "live and learn,"
And the heart joy's thrill, and the heartache's burn,
And wear the jewel of maiden-faith;
And Truth with your Love walks in step with death.
A. S.
When all is brightest, then farewell must come!
earth.html">Earth's fairest seeping in the silent tomb.
Far from her home, where kindly hands have tendered
Not by chill stranger-feeling coldly rendered,
By all who knew her in her sojourn here;
In spring's bright hours when skies were blue and clear
Oh' widowed mother-heart! dead e'en to hoping
The eager hands through earth's grim shadows groping!
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