ON LOVE What is love? Ask him who lives, what is life? ask him who adores, what is God? I know not the internal constitution of other men, nor even thine, whom I now address. I see that in some external attributes they resemble me, but when, misled by that appearance, I have thought to appeal to something in common, and unburthen my inmost soul to them, I have found my language misunderstood, like one in a distant and savage land. The more... more...

SIGNELIL The Lady her handmaid to questioning took:“Why dost thou so sickly and colourless look?”   But sorrow gnaws so sorely! “’Tis little wonder if sickly I’m growing,   Malfred my lady!So much am I busied with cutting and sewing.” “Erewhile was thy cheek as the blooming rose red,But now thou art pale, even pale as the dead.” “To conceal the truth longer ’tis... more...

TO OUR MOTHERS Ours the Great Adventure, Yours the pain to bear, Ours the golden service stripes, Yours the marks of care. If all the Great Adventure The old Earth ever knew, Was ours and in this little book 'Twould still belong to you! These Sketches were made during a year's service as a camion driver with the French army in the Chemin-des-Dames sector and a year's service with the A.E.F. as an infantry private on special... more...

1. WILLKOMMEN UND ABSCHIED Es schlug mein Herz, geschwind zu Pferde!Es war getan, fast eh' gedacht;Der Abend wiegte schon die Erde,Und an den Bergen hing die Nacht;Schon stand im Nebelkleid die Eiche, 5Ein aufgetürmter Riese, da,Wo Finsternis aus dem GesträucheMit hundert schwarzen Augen sah. Der Mond von einem WolkenhügelSah kläglich aus dem Duft hervor; 10Die Winde schwangen leise Flügel,Umsausten schauerlich mein... more...

THE DIARY OF AN OLD SOUL. JANUARY. 1.LORD, what I once had done with youthful might,Had I been from the first true to the truth,Grant me, now old, to do—with better sight,And humbler heart, if not the brain of youth;So wilt thou, in thy gentleness and ruth,Lead back thy old soul, by the path of pain,Round to his best—young eyes and heart and brain.2.A dim aurora rises in my east,Beyond the line of jagged questions hoar,As if the... more...

A CHANNEL PASSAGE 1855 Forth from Calais, at dawn of night, when sunset summer on autumn shone,Fared the steamer alert and loud through seas whence only the sun was gone:Soft and sweet as the sky they smiled, and bade man welcome: a dim sweet hourGleamed and whispered in wind and sea, and heaven was fair as a field in flower.Stars fulfilled the desire of the darkling world as with music: the starbright airMade the face of the sea, if aught... more...

Robert Lewis Balfour Stevenson, or Robert Louis Stevenson, as the world knows him, was still a boy when he published this rare volume of "A Child's Garden of Verses," although by the calendar he was thirty-five years old. You and I have sighed, no doubt, to be a boy again, but here was one who, while he outgrew his knickerbockers, never outgrew the quick sympathy, the brave heart, the fresh outlook, the confident faith and buoyant spirit of the... more...

BED IN SUMMER In winter I get up at nightAnd dress by yellow candle-light.In summer, quite the other way,I have to go to bed by day. I have to go to bed and seeThe birds still hopping on the tree,Or hear the grown-up people's feetStill going past me in the street. And does it not seem hard to you,When all the sky is clear and blue,And I should like so much to play,To have to go to bed by day? Mary Hans A THOUGHT It is very nice... more...

AT THE SEASIDE When I was down beside the seaA wooden spade they gave to meTo dig the sandy shore.My holes were empty like a cup,In every hole the sea came up,Till it could come no more. IV YOUNG NIGHT THOUGHT All night long and every night,When my mamma puts out the light,I see the people marching by,As plain as day, before my eye. Armies and emperors and kings,All carrying different kinds of things,And marching in so grand a... more...

YULE TIDE. 'They bring me sorrow touched with joy,The merry merry bells of Yule.'  Tennyson, In Memoriam. The Royal Birthday dawns again,A stricken world to bless;And sufferers forget their pain,And mourners their distress. Love sings to-day; her eyes so fairWith happy tears are wet;She is too humble to despair,Too faithful to forget. Her voice is very soft and sweet,Her heart is brave and strong;Her vassal, I would fain repeatSome... more...