The Twelve-Forty-Five (For Edward J. Wheeler) Within the Jersey City shedThe engine coughs and shakes its head,The smoke, a plume of red and white,Waves madly in the face of night.And now the grave incurious starsGleam on the groaning hurrying cars.Against the kind and awful reignOf darkness, this our angry train,A noisy little rebel, poutsIts brief defiance, flames and shouts —And passes on, and leaves no trace.For darkness holds its... more...

INTRODUCTION. "Norman's Woe" is the picturesque name of a rocky headland, reef, and islet on the coast of Massachusetts, between Gloucester and Magnolia. The special disaster in which the name originated had long been lost from memory when the poet Longfellow chose the spot as a background for his description of the "Wreck of the Hesperus," and gave it an association that it will scarcely lose while the English language endures. Nor does it... more...

The source code for this HTML page contains only Latin-1 characters, but it directs the browser to display some special characters. The original work contained a few phrases or lines of Greek text. These are represented here as Greek letters, for example Οá¿–μοι. If the mouse is held still over such phrases, a transliteration in Beta-code pops up. Aside from Greek letters, the only special characters displayed are a... more...

THE TEMPEST (By Mary Lamb) There was a certain island in the sea, the only inhabitants of which were an old man, whose name was Prospero, and his daughter Miranda, a very beautiful young lady. She came to this island so young, that she had no memory of having seen any other human face than her father's. They lived in a cave or cell, made out of a rock: it was divided into several apartments, one of which Prospero called his study; there he... more...

FORGOTTEN FACTS AND FANCIESOF AMERICAN HISTORY AS civilization advances there develops in the heart of man a higher appreciation of the past, and the deeds of preceding generations come to be viewed with a calm criticism which denudes those deeds of false splendor and increases the lustre of real accomplishment. Man cannot see into the future and acquire the prescience of coming events which would make him infallible, but he can remove the veil... more...

The Long View Some day of days! Some dawningyet to beI shall be clothed with immortality!And, in that day, I shall not greatly careThat Jane spilt candle grease upon thestair.It will not grieve me then, as once it did,That careless hands have chipped myteapot lid.I groan, being burdened. But, in thatglad day,I shall forget vexations of the way.That needs were often great, when meanswere small,Will not perplex me any more at allA few short years... more...

I Because I believe that many do not understand the verse ofLichtenstein, do not correctly understand, do not clearly understand— II The first eighty poems are lyric. In the usual sense. They are not much different from poetry that praises gardens. The content is the distress of love, death, universal longing. The impulse to formulate them in the "cynical" vein (like cabaret songs) may, for example, might have arisen from the wish to... more...

LITTLE ALLIE. I have been to see my little cousin Alice. She is just three years old, and I love her dearly. She has many things to play with. She has a ball, a rattle, and a horse; and she had a nice wax doll given her last Christmas, but as she got the paint off its face by kissing, it is laid by till she is bigger. We played she was my baby, and I dressed her up and took her to walk; after that we played have tea, and then I rocked her to... more...

CANTO I.PRODUCTION OF LIFE. I. By firm immutable immortal lawsImpress'd on Nature by the Great First Cause,Say, Muse! how rose from elemental strifeOrganic forms, and kindled into life;How Love and Sympathy with potent charmWarm the cold heart, the lifted hand disarm;Allure with pleasures, and alarm with pains,And bind Society in golden chains. Four past eventful Ages then recite,And give the fifth, new-born of Time, to light; 10The silken... more...

DEDICATION TO MY MOTHER Love that holds life and death in fee,Deep as the clear unsounded seaAnd sweet as life or death can be,Lays here my hope, my heart, and meBefore you, silent, in a song.Since the old wild tale, made new, found grace,When half sung through, before your face,It needs must live a springtide space,While April suns grow strong. March 24, 1896. THE TALE OF BALEN I In hawthorn-time the heart grows light,The world is sweet in... more...