Poetry Books

BED IN SUMMER In winter I get up at night And 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 see The birds still hopping on the tree, Or hear the grown-up people’s feet Still 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... more...

LIFE OF LOWELL In Cambridge there are two literary shrines to which visitors are sure to find their way soon after passing the Harvard gates, "Craigie House," the home of Longfellow and "Elmwood," the home of Lowell. Though their hallowed retirement has been profaned by the encroachments of the growing city, yet in their simple dignity these fine old colonial mansions still bespeak the... more...

THE REG'LAR LARK The Reg'lar Lark's a very gay old Bird;At sunrise often may his voice be heardAs jauntily he wends his homeward way,And trills a fresh and merry roundelay.And some old, wise philosopher has said:Rise with a lark, and with a lark to bed. Although a learned EntomologistMay doubt if Humbugs really do exist,Yet each of us, I'm sure, can truly sayWe've seen a number... more...

Under the window is my garden, Where sweet, sweet flowers grow; And in the pear-tree dwells a robin, The dearest bird I know. Tho' I peep out betimes in the morning, Still the flowers are up the first; Then I try and talk to the robin, And perhaps he'd chat—if he durst.13 Will you be my little wife, If I ask you? Do! I'll buy you such a Sunday frock, A nice umbrella, too. And you shall... more...

INTRODUCTION TO THE OCCASIONAL PIECES (POEMS 1809-1813; POEMS 1814-1816). The Poems afterwards entitled "Occasional Pieces," which were included in the several editions of the Collected Works issued by Murray, 1819-1831, numbered fifty-seven in all. They may be described as the aggregate of the shorter poems written between the years 1809-1818, which the author thought worthy of a permanent... more...

HARRY'S HORN-BOOK. BOY CAT. DOG. JUG. COW. PIG. BED. FOX. COCK. DUCK. MILL. GOAT. STAG. ROSE. HARE. BEAR. LAMP. HOUSE. CLOCK. PEARS. GOOSE. HORSE. SHEEP. CHAIR. KNIFE. FORK. SPOON. RAKE, HOE, AND SPADE. GRAPES. BRIDGE. CHURCH. LION. SOFA. APPLE. BASIN. TABLE. PANSY. ROBIN. CAMEL. DONKEY. PIGEON. MONKEY. TURKEY. RABBIT. WAGGON. TEAPOT. SPARROW. FUSCHIA. PHEASANT. FILBERTS. WOODCOCK. COFFEE POT.... more...

TO THE MOTHER "A Court as of angels, A public not to be bribed, Not to be entreated, Not to be overawed." Such is the audience—in long clothes or short frocks, in pinafores or kilts, or in the brief trousers that bespeak the budding man—such is the crowing, laughing court, the toddling public that awaits these verses. Every home, large or small, poor or rich, that has a child in it, is a... more...

THE OLD HANGING FORK.I.O don't you remember those days so divine,Around which the heart-strings all tenderly twine,When with sapling pole and a painted corkWe fished up and down the old Hanging Fork—From the railroad bridge, with its single span,Clear down to the mill at Dawson's old dam—From early morn till the shades of night,And it made no difference if fishdidn'tbite?II.What... more...

A JOLLY BOOK How can they put in black and whiteWhat little children think at night,When lights are out and prayers are said,And you are all tucked up in bed? Such funny dreams go dancing throughYour head, of things nobody knew,Or saw, or ever half believes!—They're all inside these singing leaves. And little children laugh and goA-ring-a-round-a-rosy-O;And birds sing gay—you'd almost... more...

SPRING To what purpose, April, do you return again?Beauty is not enough.You can no longer quiet me with the rednessOf little leaves opening stickily.I know what I know.The sun is hot on my neck as I observeThe spikes of the crocus.The smell of the earth is good.It is apparent that there is no death.But what does that signify?Not only under ground are the brains of menEaten by maggots,Life in itselfIs... more...