Poetry Books

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No one can have reflected on the history of genius without being impressed with a melancholy feeling at the obscurity in which the lives of the poets of our country are, with few exceptions, involved. That they lived, and wrote, and died, comprises nearly all that is known of many, and, of others, the few facts which are preserved are often records of privations, or sufferings, or errors. The cause of... more...

THE LIFE OF PETRARCH. The family of Petrarch was originally of Florence, where his ancestors held employments of trust and honour. Garzo, his great-grandfather, was a notary universally respected for his integrity and judgment. Though he had never devoted himself exclusively to letters, his literary opinion was consulted by men of learning. He lived to be a hundred and four years old, and died, like... more...

TO WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON CHAMPION of those who groan beneathOppression's iron handIn view of penury, hate, and death,I see thee fearless stand.Still bearing up thy lofty brow,In the steadfast strength of truth,In manhood sealing well the vowAnd promise of thy youth. Go on, for thou hast chosen well;On in the strength of God!Long as one human heart shall swellBeneath the tyrant's rod.Speak in... more...

PREFACE This little volume was written for no reason on earth and with no earthly reason. It just simply happened, on the principle, I suppose that "murder will out." Murder is a bad thing and so are nonsense rhymes. There is often a valid excuse for murder; there is none for nonsense rhymes. They seem to be a necessary evil to be classed with smallpox, chicken-pox, yellow fever and other... more...

PREFACE In March, 1914, a volume appeared entitled "Des Imagistes." It was a collection of the work of various young poets, presented together as a school. This school has been widely discussed by those interested in new movements in the arts, and has already become a household word. Differences of taste and judgment, however, have arisen among the contributors to that book; growing tendencies... more...

In the Factory Oh, here in the shop the machines roar so wildly,That oft, unaware that I am, or have been,I sink and am lost in the terrible tumult;And void is my soul… I am but a machine.I work and I work and I work, never ceasing;Create and create things from morning till e'en;For what?—and for whom—Oh, I know not! Oh, ask not!Who ever has heard of a conscious machine? No, here is no... more...

A DEDICATION TO E.C.B. He was, through boyhood's storm and shower, My best, my nearest friend; We wore one hat, smoked one cigar, One standing at each end. We were two hearts with single hope, Two faces in one hood; I knew the secrets of his youth; I watched his every mood. The little things that none but I Saw were beyond his wont, The streaming hair, the tie behind, The coat tails worn in front.... more...

by: Anonymous
INTRODUCTION. In presenting to the public the following translations of the Old English (Anglo-Saxon) poems, Elene, Judith, Athelstan, Byrhtnoth, and The Dream of the Rood, it is desirable to prefix a brief account of them for the information of the general reader. I. The Elene, or Helena, is a poem on the expedition of the Empress Helena, mother of Constantine the Great, the first Christian emperor,... more...

INTRODUCTIONThe parents of the learned child(His father and his mother)Were utterly aghast to noteThe facts he would at random quoteOn creatures curious, rare and wild;And wondering, asked each other:"An idle little child like this,How is it that he knowsWhat years of close analysisAre powerless to disclose? Our brains are trained, our books are big,And yet we always failTo answer why the... more...

THE SYLVAN CABIN A CENTENARY ODE ON THE BIRTH OF LINCOLNIO, fairest Dame of sylvan glades,We come to pay thee homage due,Embrace thee softly and to kissThy lovely, long-forsaken cheeks;To smooth thy flowing silver locksAnd bind about thy snowy neckA necklace golden studded fullWith rarest gems and shining pearls.Our eyes, though sometimes dimmed with tears,In purer lustre sparkle forthWhene'er... more...