Classics Books

THE COAST OF BOHEMIA There is a land not charted on all charts;Though many mariners have touched its coast,Who far adventuring in those distant parts,Meet ship-wreck there and are forever lost;Or if they e'er return, are soon once moreBorne far away by hunger for that magic shore. Its mystic mountains on the horizon piled,Some mariners have glimpsed when driven farOut of life's measured... more...

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CHAPTER I THE LATE MR. SKAGGS The death of Taswell Skaggs was stimulating, to say the least, inapplicable though the expression may seem. He attained the end of a hale old age by tumbling aimlessly into the mouth of a crater on the island of Japat, somewhere in the mysterious South Seas. The volcano was not a large one and the crater, though somewhat threatening at times, was correspondingly minute,... more...

PROEM I LOVE the old melodious laysWhich softly melt the ages through,The songs of Spenser's golden days,Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase,Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew. Yet, vainly in my quiet hoursTo breathe their marvellous notes I try;I feel them, as the leaves and flowersIn silence feel the dewy showers,And drink with glad, still lips the blessing of the sky. The... more...

CHAPTER I Smaly and his wife Redy set forth in search of three little girls: They are bewitched so that their noses turn into beaks: Smaly eats the latch of a door and Redy eats the hinge: Redy's fingers weep tears: They meet with a Confectioner who resembles a Kangaroo. Smaly and Redy were husband and wife, and they lived together in a little white house. This house had three rooms upstairs and... more...

THE 'BLUE PETER' Ding ... dong.... Ding ... dong. The university bells toll out in strength of tone that tells of south-west winds and misty weather. On the street below my window familiar city noises, unheeded by day, strike tellingly on the ear—hoof-strokes and rattle of wheels, tramp of feet on the stone flags, a snatch of song from a late reveller, then silence, broken in a little by... more...

THE EAGLE AND THE MOLE Avoid the reeking herd,Shun the polluted flock,Live like that stoic bird,The eagle of the rock. The huddled warmth of crowdsBegets and fosters hate;He keeps, above the clouds,His cliff inviolate. When flocks are folded warm,And herds to shelter run,He sails above the storm,He stares into the sun. If in the eagle's trackYour sinews cannot leap,Avoid the lathered pack,Turn... more...

Complimentary Pieces Addressed to the Author. 1Well as the author knows that the following testimonies are not so much about as above him, and that men of great ingenuity, as well as our friends, are apt, through abundant zeal, so to praise us as rather to draw their own likeness than ours, he was yet unwilling that the world should remain always ignorant of compositions that do him so much honour; and... more...

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THE RIDE TO THE LADY "Now since mine even is come at last,—For I have been the sport of steel,And hot life ebbeth from me fast,And I in saddle roll and reel,—Come bind me, bind me on my steed!Of fingering leech I have no need!"The chaplain clasped his mailed knee."Nor need I more thy whine and thee!No time is left my sins to tell;But look ye bind me, bind me well!"They bound him... more...