Showing: 1-10 results of 483

AN A D D R E S S TO ALLWell provided Hibernians. Gentlemen,   S Nature hath been so very Indulgent to ye, as to stock your Gardens with Trees of the largest Growth, for which Reason ye are caress'd, whilst Men of less Parts, tho' in some Things more deserving, are laugh'd at, and excluded all Company. As all Infants, especially of the Female Sex, are much delighted with Fruit, so as their Years and other Appetites increase, no Wonder... more...

Gerontion Thou hast nor youth nor ageBut as it were an after dinner sleepDreaming of both. Here I am, an old man in a dry month,Being read to by a boy, waiting for rain.I was neither at the hot gatesNor fought in the warm rainNor knee deep in the salt marsh, heaving a cutlass,Bitten by flies, fought.My house is a decayed house,And the jew squats on the window sill, the owner,Spawned in some estaminet of Antwerp,Blistered in Brussels, patched... more...

Prologue As of old Phoenician men, to the Tin Isles sailingStraight against the sunset and the edges of the earth,Chaunted loud above the storm and the strange sea's wailing,Legends of their people and the land that gave them birth—Sang aloud to Baal-Peor, sang unto the horned maiden,Sang how they should come again with the Brethon treasure laden,Sang of all the pride and glory of their hardy enterprise,How they found the outer islands,... more...

BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS AND OTHER VERSES 1889-1891 TO WOLCOTT BALESTIER Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled —Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled —Live such as fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made our world.They are purged of pride because they died, they know the worth of their bays,They sit at wine with the Maidens Nine and the Gods of the Elder Days,It is their will to... more...

Amos and Ann had a poem to learn,A poem to learn one day;But alas! they sighed, and alack! they cried,’Twere better to go and play.Ann was sure ’twas a waste of timeTo bother a child with jingling rhyme.Amos said, “What’s the sense in rhythm—Feet and lines?” He had finished with ’em! They peered at the poem with scowly faces,And yawned and stumbled and lost their places.Then—a breeze romped by, and... more...

NOTE The motif of the story embodied in the following poem was crudely outlined in a brief sketch printed in an early collection of the authors verse, and subsequently cancelled for a purpose not until now accomplished. Wyndham Towers is not to be confused with this discarded sketch, the text of which has furnished only a phrase, or an indirect suggestion, here and there. That the writer's method, when recasting the poem, was more or less... more...

THE COLORS It isn't just colors and bunting—The red and the blue and the white.It's something heaps better and finer,—It's the soul of my country in sight! There's a lot of ceremony 'bout the Flag,Though many half-baked patriots believeSalutin' it and hangin' it correct"Is only loyalty upon the sleeve."But we who work beneath the Flag to-day,Who'll honor it—and die for it, perhaps—Get a slightly different view of the... more...

On the night of the rains,water was oozing out fromthe sky's swollen stitches,a rash developed acrossthe meaning of the heavens.The wooden floors of my attic placestrove for a deeper tone,a hoarse callinggrew louder as I pacedtrying to see rain.I followed the gravity of the treasure huntwhere each bounce meant a slapacross a table top of tension,where the window basted winter black rainand silence paid another call.I am as much as this water... more...

e was a rat, and she was a rat,And down in one hole they did dwell,And both were as black as a witch’s cat,And they loved one another well.           He had a tail, and she had a tail,Both long and curling and fine,And each said “Yours is the finest tailIn the world,—excepting mine!”         e smelt the cheese, and she smelt the cheese,And they both... more...

This volume, while it is complete in itself, is also the first of a trilogy, the scope of which is suggested in the prologue. The story of scientific discovery has its own epic unity—a unity of purpose and endeavour—the single torch passing from hand to hand through the centuries; and the great moments of science when, after long labour, the pioneers saw their accumulated facts falling into a significant order—sometimes in the... more...