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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...

SONG THE FIRST. Up Riber’s street the dance they ply,   The Castle’s won, the Castle’s won!There dance the knights most merrily,   For young King Erik Erikson. On Riber’s bridge the dance it goes,   The Castle’s won, the Castle’s won!There dance the knights in scollop’d shoes,   For young King Erik Erikson. ’Twas Riber Wolf the dance who led,  ... more...

THE STORY OFTHE THREE BEARS. THERE were once three bears, who lived in a wood,Their porridge was thick, and their chairs and beds good.The biggest bear, Bruin, was surly and rough;His wife, Mrs. Bruin, was called Mammy Muff.Their son, Tiny-cub, was like Dame Goose’s lad;He was not very good, nor yet very bad.Now Bruin, the biggest—the surly old bear—Had a great granite bowl, and a cast-iron chair.Mammy Muffs bowl and chair you... 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...

The reader of to-day will not forget, I trust, that it is nearly a quarter of a century since these papers were written. Statements which were true then are not necessarily true now. Thus, the speed of the trotting horse has been so much developed that the record of the year when the fastest time to that date was given must be very considerably altered, as may be seen by referring to a note on page 49 of the "Autocrat." No doubt many other... more...

by Unknown
YE votaries of Fashion, who have it to boast, That your names to posterity will not be lost; That the last Morning Chronicle due honor paid To the still-blooming Dowager’s gay Masquerade; That the Minister’s Dinner has blaz’d in the Times, That the Countess’s Gala has jingled in rhymes; Oh! tell me, who would not endeavour to please, And exert ev’ry nerve, for rewards such as these? [p6] It was early in... more...

INTRODUCTION. Nash's "CHOISE OF VALENTINES" has apparently come down to us only in manuscript form. It is extremely doubtful (Oldys notwithstanding), whether the poem was ever before accorded the dignity of print. Nor would it now be deemed worthy of such were the only considerations those of literary merit or intrinsic value: truth to tell there is little of either to recommend it. But, as it has been repeatedly said, and well insisted on, the... more...

THE STUDY OF POETRY. BY FRANCIS HOVEY STODDARD. Clever men of action, according to Bacon, despise studies, ignorant men too much admire them, wise men make use of them. "Yet," he says, "they teach not their own use, but that there is a wisdom without them and above them won by observation." These are the words of a man who had been taught by years of studiousness the emptiness of mere study. It does not teach its own usefulness, and gives its... more...

RELIGION AND POETRY BY WASHINGTON GLADDEN. The time is not long past when the copulative in that title might have suggested to some minds an antithesis,—as acid and alkali, or heat and cold. That religion could have affiliation with anything so worldly as poetry would have seemed to some pious people a questionable proposition. There were the Psalms, in the Old Testament, to be sure; and the minister had been heard to allude to them as... more...

The Land God Forgot The lonely sunsets flare forlornDown valleys dreadly desolate;The lordly mountains soar in scornAs still as death, as stern as fate.The lonely sunsets flame and die;The giant valleys gulp the night;The monster mountains scrape the sky,Where eager stars are diamond-bright.So gaunt against the gibbous moon,Piercing the silence velvet-piled,A lone wolf howls his ancient rune —The fell arch-spirit of the Wild.O outcast... more...