Poetry Books

THICK-SPRINKLED BUNTINGThick-sprinkled bunting! flag of stars!Long yet your road, fateful flag—long yet your road, and lined with bloody death,For the prize I see at issue at last is the world,All its ships and shores I see interwoven with your threads greedy banner;Dream'd again the flags of kings, highest borne, to flaunt unrival'd?O hasten flag of man—O with sure and steady step,... more...

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...

To One Who Sleeps (Obiit, June 8th, 1894.) Tho' storm and summer shine for long have shedOr blight or bloom above thy quiet bed,Tho' loneliness and longing cry thee dead—Thou art not dead, belovèd. Still with meAre whilom hopings that encompass theeAnd dreams of dear delights that may not be.Asleep—adream perchance, dost thou forgetThe sometime sorrow and the fevered fret,Sting of salt... more...

COME LASSES AND LADS Come Lasses and Lads, get leave of your Dads, And away to the May-pole hey: For every heHas got him a she,with a minstrel standing by. For Willy has gotten his Jill,And Johnny has got his Jone,To jigg it, jigg it, jigg it, jigg it,Jigg it up and down. "Strike up," says Watt; "Agreed," says Kate,"And I prithee, Fiddler, play;""Content," says Hodge,... more...

The editor of the new edition of Mother Goose's Melodies knows much more about the curious history of the Boston edition than I do. And the reader will not need, even in these lines of mine, any light on the curious question about Madam Vergoose, or her son-in-law Mr. Fleet, or the Contes de Ma Mere l'Oye, which are so carefully discussed in the preface. All this is admirably discussed also... more...

Mr. Editor:—Your correspondent, N.B.S., has so decisively given a quietus to the question as to the birthplace of Cotton Mather, that there is no danger of its ever being revived again. But there is another question of equal importance to many, to the literary world in particular, which should in like manner be put to rest. Who was Mother Goose? and when were her melodies first given to the world?... more...

The Deacon’s Masterpiece Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay,That was built in such a logical wayIt ran a hundred years to a day,And then, of a sudden, it—ah, but stay,I’ll tell you what happened without delay,Scaring the parson into fits,Frightening people out of their wits,—Have you ever heard of that, I say? Seventeen hundred and fifty-five, Georgius Secundus was then... 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...

TWO ABORIGINAL SONGS I Korindabria, korindabria, bogarona, bogarona. Iwariniangiwaringdo, iwariniang, iwaringdo, iwariniang, iwaringdo,iwariniang, iwaringdo, iwaringime. Iwaringiang, iwaringdoo,ilanenienow, coombagongniengowe, ilanenienow, coombagongniengowe,ilanenienowe combagoniengowe, ilanenienimme. Buddha-buddharo nianga, boomelana, bulleranga, crobinea,narnmala, yibbilwaadjo nianga, boomelana, a,... more...

THE OLD ARM-CHAIR. I love it, I love it; and who shall dare To chide me for loving that old arm-chair? I've cherished it long as a sainted prize; I've bedewed it with tears and embalmed it with sighs 'Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart; Not a tie will break, not a link will start. Would ye learn the spell?—a mother sat there: And a sacred thing is that old arm-chair. In... more...