Poetry Books

BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS AND OTHER VERSES 1889-1891TO WOLCOTT BALESTIER Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled —Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled —Live such as fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made our world. They are purged of pride because they died, they know the worth of their bays,They sit at wine with the Maidens Nine and the Gods of... more...

I. LIFE. POEMS. I. REAL RICHES. 'T is little I could care for pearls  Who own the ample sea;Or brooches, when the Emperor  With rubies pelteth me; Or gold, who am the Prince of Mines;  Or diamonds, when I seeA diadem to fit a dome  Continual crowning me. II. SUPERIORITY TO FATE. Superiority to fate  Is difficult to learn.'T is not conferred by any,  But possible to earn A pittance... more...

MY DOG TRAY.Twice every week a poor, thin man,Holding his little daughter’s hand,Walked feebly to a hospital,Close by the busy London Strand.He hoped the clever doctors thereIn time would make him strong and well,That he might go to work again,And live to care for little Nell.Beside wee Nell, her faithful friend,Good old dog Tray was always seen,Never a day apart the pairSince Nelly’s babyhood had... more...

INTRODUCTION.   The golden age—when men were brothers all,  The golden rule their law and God their king;  When no fierce beasts did through the forests roam,  Nor poisonous reptiles crawl upon the ground;  When trees bore only wholesome, luscious fruits,  And thornless roses breathed their sweet perfumes;  When sickness, sin and sorrow were unknown,  And tears but spoke of joy too... more...

LITTLE BO-PEEP. Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep,And can’t tell where to find them;Leave them alone, and they’ll come home,And bring their tails behind them. Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,And dreamt she heard them bleating;But when she awoke, she found it a joke,For they were still a-fleeting. Then up she took her little crook,Determined for to find them;She found them indeed, but it made her... more...

I. Thou tak'st no heed of me,I am as naught to thee;         Cruel Beloved, arise!Lovely and languid thou,Sleep still upon thy brow,         Dreams in thine eyes.From out thy garment flowsFragrance of many a rose—         Airs of delightCaught in the moonlit hoursLying among the flowers         Through the long night.Look on my face how pale!Will naught my love... more...

INTRODUCTION The father of Frederick Locker Lampson (or Frederick Locker, according to the name by which he is generally known) was Edward Hawke Locker, at one time Commissioner of Greenwich Hospital.  He is described in the “Dictionary of National Biography” as “a man of varied talents and accomplishments, Fellow of the Royal Society, an excellent artist in water-colour, a charming... more...

LES DEMOISELLES DE SAUVE TO S. A. S. ALICE, PRINCESSE DE MONACO Beautiful ladies through the orchard pass;Bend under crutched-up branches, forked and low;Trailing their samet palls o'er dew-drenched grass. Pale blossoms, looking on proud Jacqueline,Blush to the colour of her finger tips,And rosy knuckles, laced with yellow lace. High-crested Berthe discerns, with slant, clinched eyes,Amid the... more...

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The Path to HomeThere's the mother at the doorway, and the children at the gate,And the little parlor windows with the curtains white and straight.There are shaggy asters blooming in the bed that lines the fence,And the simplest of the blossoms seems of mighty consequence.Oh, there isn't any mansion underneath God's starry domeThat can rest a weary pilgrim like the little place called... more...