Poetry Books

I. THE VENDER OF VIOLETS."Violets!Violets! Violets!"This was the cry I heardAs I passed through the street of a city;And quickly my heart was stirredTo an incomprehensible pity,At the undertone of the cry;For it seemed like the voice of oneWho was stricken, and all undone,Who was only longing to die."Violets! Violets! Violets!"The voice came nearer still."Surely," I said,... more...

THE DREAMERS The gypsies passed her little gate—She stopped her wheel to see,—A brown-faced pair who walked the road,Free as the wind is free;And suddenly her tidy roomA prison seemed to be. Her shining plates against the walls,Her sunlit, sanded floor,The brass-bound wedding chest that heldHer linen's snowy store,The very wheel whose humming died,—Seemed only chains she bore. She watched... more...

Winter and SummerIn Winter when the air is chill,And winds are blowing loud and shrill,All snug and warm I sit and purr,Wrapped in my overcoat of fur.In Summer quite the other way,I find it very hot all day,But Human People do not care,For they have nice thin clothes to wear.And does it not seem hard to you,When all the world is like a stew,And I am much too warm to purr,I have to wear my Winter Fur?... more...

ON LEAVING N—ST—D. Through the cracks in these battlements loud the winds whistle, For the hall of my fathers is gone to decay; And in yon once gay garden the hemlock and thistle Have choak'd up the rose, which late bloom'd in the way. Of the barons of old, who once proudly to battle Led their vassals from Europe to Palestine's plain; The escutcheon and shield, which with ev'ry... more...

THE AFTER-ECHO How long the echoes love to play  Around the shore of silence, as a wave  Retreating circles down the sand!  One after one, with sweet delay,The mellow sounds that cliff and island gave,  Have lingered in the crescent bay,  Until, by lightest breezes fanned,They float far off beyond the dying day      And leave it still as death.        But... more...

CELEBRATED DUTCHESS. MADAM, I am rather apprehensive that you will rank me among the Impertinents of the Age, in giving a performance which treats professedly of the Triumphs of Folly, the Sanction of Your Grace. But tho', in the too great quickness of apprehension, this may be the case; I have not the least doubt but, in some succeeding moments of coolness and candour, you will accompany me... more...

I.   A fluttering bevy left the gate  With hurried steps, and sped away;  And then a coach with drooping freight,  Wrapped in its film of dusty gray,  Stopped; and the pastor and his mate   Stepped forth, and passed the waiting door,  And closed it on the gazing street.  "Oh Philip!" She could say no more.  "Oh Mildred! You're at home, my sweet,—  The old life... more...

Laugh and Play.       Laughand play all the day:Don't you think with meWhen I say that's the wayIf you'd happy be?Maid and lad, if we hadNever time for song,Always sad, never glad,Days would seem so long!Tear and sigh make the skyDark and sad and grey;Never cry—only tryJust to laugh and play.Faces bright make sunlightAll the merry day;Frowns they fright out of sight—So we'll... more...

MOTHER'S PRAYERFor this new day, our Father, we give thee thanks.Thou hast blessed us with rest for our bodies,The glories of a new day are upon us, a gift from above.Let the light from heaven penetrate our souls,and may this be the best of our lives, we pray.Remember those less fortunate, dear Father,May some messenger of thine bring joy to their hearts today.Forbid we should shirk any duty... more...

INVOCATION. Thou with the dark blue eye upturned to heaven,And cheek now pale, now warm with radiant glow,          Daughter of God,—most dear,—          Come with thy quivering tear,And tresses wild, and robes of loosened flow,—To thy lone votaress let one look be given! Come Poesy! nor like some just-formed maid,With heart as yet unswoln by bliss or... more...