Poetry Books

THE SHEPHERDESS She walks—the lady of my delight—   A shepherdess of sheep.Her flocks are thoughts.  She keeps them white;   She guards them from the steep.She feeds them on the fragrant height,   And folds them in for sleep. She roams maternal hills and bright,   Dark valleys safe and deep.Into that tender breast at night   The chastest stars may peep.She walks—the lady of my... more...

QUEEN BERNGERD Long ere the Sun the heaven arrayed,For her morning gift her Lord she prayed:“Give me Samsoe to have and to hold,And from every maiden a crown of gold.”   Woe befall her, Berngerd. The King he answered Berngerd thus:“Madam, crave something less of us,For many a maid lives ’neath our swayTo ’scape from death could the like not pay.”   Woe befall her, Berngerd. “My gentle... more...

I. BEFORE THE WAR Before the WarEFORE the war," she sighs. "Before the war."Then blinks 'er eyes, an' tries to work a smile."Ole scenes," she sez, "don't look the same no more.Ole ways," she sez, "seems to 'ave changed their style,The pleasures that we 'ad don't seem worth while--Them simple joys that passed an hour away--An' troubles,... more...

SeeMeBe(kyndeAgayneMy payneReteyne(in myndeMy swete bloodeOn the roodeDyde the good(my broderMy face ryght redMyn armes spredMy woundes bled(thynke none oderBeholde thou my sydeWounded so ryght wydeBledynge sore that tyde(all for thyn owne sakeThus for the I smertedWhy arte þharde hertedBe by me conuerted(& thy swerynge aslakeTere me nowe no moreMy woundes are soreLeue swerynge therfore(and come to... more...

1. THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers;I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,Of bride-grooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes.I write of Youth, of Love;—and have accessBy these, to sing of cleanly wantonness;I sing of dews, of rains, and, piece by piece,Of balm, of oil, of spice, and ambergris.I sing of times... more...

In Macao. A Story from the "Grasshopper's Library." I was seated one pleasant day in the garden, which was given to the city of Macao by the Marcos family, near the grotto sacred to the poet Camoens, when a Portuguese priest came from among the wilderness of flowers and sat beside me. He spoke English with a pleasant accent and we read Bowring's effusion together, as it is engraved on... more...

"ALL'S WELL"IThe illimitable leaping of the sea,The mouthing of his madness to the moon,The seething of his endless sorcery,His prophecy no power can attune,Swept over me as, on the sounding prowOf a great ship that steered into the stars,I stood and felt the awe upon my browOf death and destiny and all that mars.IIThe wind that blew from Cassiopeia castWanly upon my ear a rune that... more...

THE FOX JUMPS OVER THE PARSON’S GATE   The Huntsman blows his horn in the morn, When folks goes hunting, oh! When folks goes hunting, oh! When folks goes hunting, oh! The Huntsman blows his horn in the morn, When folks goes hunting, oh!         The Fox jumps over the Parson’s gate, And the Hounds all after him go, And the Hounds all after him go, And the Hounds all after him go.   But all my... more...

INTRODUCTION LIFE OF BROWNING Robert Browning was born in Camberwell, London, May 7, 1812. He was contemporary with Tennyson, Dickens, Thackeray, Lowell, Emerson, Hawthorne, Darwin, Spencer, Huxley, Dumas, Hugo, Mendelssohn, Wagner, and a score of other men famous in art and science. Browning's good fortune began with his birth. His father, a clerk in the Bank of England, possessed ample means for... more...

“Let us buy,”Said Sally Fry,“Something nice,”Said Betsy Price,“What shall it be,”Said Kitty Lee,“A nice plum cake,”Said Lucy Wake. Which will you have, the doll, or Noah’s Ark? said mother to Mary one day. The doll, if you please, I think I will take, for then I can prettily play. One day John said, as he made his bow,“Mamma, are you at leisure now?Tell me, for much I wish to... more...