Poetry Books

THE YARN OF THE "NANCY BELL."'Twas on the shores that round our coastFrom Deal to Ramsgate span,That I found alone, on a piece of stone,An elderly naval man.His hair was weedy, his beard was long,And weedy and long was he,And I heard this wight on the shore recite,In a singular minor key:"Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold,And the mate of theNancybrig,And a bo'sun tight, and a... more...

POCAHONTAS.Where yonder moss-grown ruinlonely stands,Which from the James, the Pilgrim may survey,Stretch alway forth its old, forsaken handsAs if to beg some friend its fall to stay,And now the wild vine flaunts in greenness gay;Erst rose a Castle, known to deathless fame,Though now the mournful rampart falls away,Hither Virginia's hero-father came,To found a glorious state, and give these... more...

Before the Altar Before the Altar, bowed, he standsWith empty hands;Upon it perfumed offerings burnWreathing with smoke the sacrificial urn.Not one of all these has he given,No flame of his has leapt to HeavenFiresouled, vermilion-hearted,Forked, and darted,Consuming what a few spare penceHave cheaply bought, to fling from henceIn idly-asked petition. His sole conditionLove and poverty.And while the... more...

TO read the old Nursery Rhymes brings back queer lost memories of a man's own childhood. One seems to see the loose floppy picture-books of long ago, with their boldly coloured pictures. The books were tattered and worn, and my first library consisted of a wooden box full of these volumes. And I can remember being imprisoned for some crime in the closet where the box was, and how my gaolers found... more...

HE following little illustrated effusion is offered to the public, in the hope that it may not prove altogether uninteresting, or entirely inappropriate to the times. The famous pre-historic story of Ulysses and Polyphemus has received its counterpart in the case of two well-known personages of our own age and country. Ulysses of old contrived, with a burning stake, to put out the glaring eye of... more...

LONDON:HENRY J. DRANE & CO.Paternoster Row E.C.                  New York: E.P. Dutton & Co.         I.                  What dreams the flower cups enfold                    Within their fragrant leaves,                 Of meadow-ways grown fair with spring,                    Soft mists that April... more...

POETRY FOR POETRY'S SAKE One who, after twenty years, is restored to the University where he was taught and first tried to teach, and who has received at the hands of his Alma Mater an honour of which he never dreamed, is tempted to speak both of himself and of her. But I remember that you have come to listen to my thoughts about a great subject, and not to my feelings about myself; and, of... more...

O the angels know the blessed day, And strike their harps anew? Then may the echo of their lay Float sweetly down to you, And fill your soul with Christmas song That your heart shall echo your whole life long. Havergal. A bright and happy Christmas to you! Lift up yourselves to the great meaning of the day, and dare to think of your humanity as something so sublimely precious that it is worthy of being... more...

ALUN. John Blackwell (Alun), was born of very poor parents at Mold in 1797.  Beginning life as a shoe-maker, his successes at the Eisteddfods of Ruthin and Mold in 1823 attracted the attention of the gentry of the neighbourhood, and a fund was formed to send him to the University.  He took his degree from Jesus College, Oxford, in 1828, and died rector of Manordeifi 1840.  His works were published... more...

WHEN YOU KNOW A FELLOW   When you get to know a fellow, know his joys    and know his cares,  When you've come to understand him and the    burdens that he bears,  When you've learned the fight he's making and    the troubles in his way,  Then you find that he is different than you    thought him yesterday.  You find his faults are trivial and there's not... more...