Fiction
- Action & Adventure 178
- Biographical 14
- Christian 59
- Classics 6965
- Coming of Age 4
- Contemporary Women 3
- Erotica 8
- Espionage/Intrigue 12
- Fairy Tales, Folklore & Mythology 236
- Family Life 169
- Fantasy 117
- Gay 1
- General 596
- Ghost 31
- Historical 808
- Horror 42
- Humorous 159
- Jewish 25
- Legal 4
- Medical 22
- Mystery & Detective 313
- Political 49
- Psychological 41
- Religious 64
- Romance 156
- Sagas 11
- Science Fiction 728
- Sea Stories 113
- Short Stories (single author) 537
- Sports 10
- Suspense 1
- Technological 8
- Thrillers 2
- Urban Life 31
- War & Military 173
- Westerns 199
Fiction Books
Sort by:
by:
Thomas Gent
POEMS. Tis sweet in boyhood's visionary mood,When glowing Fancy, innocently gay,Flings forth, like motes, her bright aërial brood,To dance and shine in Hope's prolific ray;'Tis sweet, unweeting how the flight of yearsMay darkling roll in trials and in tears,To dress the future in what garb we list,And shape the thousand joys that never may exist.But he, sad wight! of all that feverish...
more...
A SONG. I. No riches from his scanty store My lover could impart;He gave a boon I valued more— He gave me all his heart! II. His soul sincere, his gen'rous worth, Might well this bosom move;And when I ask'd for bliss on earth, I only meant his love. III. But now for me, in search of gain From shore to shore he flies:Why wander riches to obtain, When love is all I prize?...
more...
by:
John Carr
VERSES WRITTEN IN A GROTTO In a Wood on the Side of the River Dart, IN DEVONSHIRE. Tell me, thou grotto! o'er whose brow are seenProjecting plumes, and shades of deep'ning green,вÐâWhile not a sound disturbs thy stony hall,While all thy dewy drops forget to fall,вÐâWhy canst thou not thy soothing charms impart,And shed thy quiet o'er this beating heart?Tell me, thou...
more...
THE POETRY OF MADISON CAWEIN When a poet begins writing, and we begin liking his work, we own willingly enough that we have not, and cannot have, got the compass of his talent. We must wait till he has written more, and we have learned to like him more, and even then we should hesitate his definition, from all that he has done, if we did not very commonly qualify ourselves from the latest thing he has...
more...
by:
John Hay
POEMS By John Hay Note to Revised Edition The Publishers of this volume, desiring to print it in an improved form, have asked me to write something by way of preface or supplement to the new edition. After some deliberation I have found myself unable to comply with this request. These pages were written in the first half of the year 1870, a time of intense interest and importance, to Spain. I left...
more...
by:
Matilda Betham
POEMS. 'My bosom is chill'd with the cold, My limbs their lost vigour deplore! Alas! to the lonely and old, Hope warbles her promise no more! 'Worn out with the length of my way, I must rest me awhile on the beach, To feel the salt dash of the spray, If haply so far it may reach. 'As the white-foaming billows arise, I reflect on the days that are past, When the pride of my strength...
more...
THREE DEDICATIONS TO EDMUND CLERIHEW BENTLEY THE DEDICATION OF THE MAN WHO WAS THURSDAY A cloud was on the mind of men, and wailing went the weather,Yea, a sick cloud upon the soul when we were boys together.Science announced nonentity and art admired decay;The world was old and ended: but you and I were gay.Round us in antic order their crippled vices came—Lust that had lost its laughter, fear that...
more...
M A B E L,A Sketch. DRAMATIS PERSONAE. ORAN, a Speculative Philosopher. MABEL, his Wife. HER FATHER. MAURICE, } ROGER, } her brothers. MABEL. SCENE IвÐâA Study. Books, pictures, and sculpture about the room, interspersed with chemical and other instruments, globes, &c.; a singular blending of science with art, indicating a delicate and...
more...
POEMS THE POET'S SECRET. The poet's secret I must know,If that will calm my restless mind.I hail the seasons as they go,I woo the sunshine, brave the wind. I scan the lily and the rose,I nod to every nodding tree,I follow every stream that flows,And wait beside the steadfast sea. I question melancholy eyes,I touch the lips of women fair:Their lips and eyes may make me wise,But what I seek for...
more...
by:
Victor Hugo
Towards the close of the First French Revolution, Joseph Leopold SigisbertHugo, son of a joiner at Nancy, and an officer risen from the ranks in theRepublican army, married Sophie Trébuchet, daughter of a Nantes fitter-outof privateers, a Vendean royalist and devotee. Victor Marie Hugo, their second son, was born on the 26th of February, 1802, at Besançon, France. Though a weakling, he was carried,...
more...