Poetry Books

FOR YOU, MOTHER I have a dream for you, Mother,Like a soft thick fringe to hide your eyes.I have a surprise for you, Mother,Shaped like a strange butterfly.I have found a way of thinkingTo make you happy;I have made a song and a poemAll twisted into one.If I sing, you listen;If I think, you know.I have a secret from everybody in the world full of peopleBut I cannot always remember how it goes;It is a... more...

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. HE success of the first edition of this little work, compels its author to say a few words on the issue of a second. "Expressive silence" would now be in him the excessive impudence of not acknowledging, as he respectfully does acknowledge, that success to be greatly ascribable to the eminent artists who have drawn and engraved the illustrations. "A man's... more...

Peter Pry’s Puppet ShowPart the SecondHere’s johnny Bull From England come,Who boasts of being a sailor,But yankey tars will let him know,He’ll meet with many a Failure.The Elephant upright and tallDress’d up in Eastern style SirHis efforts here to show himselfI think will make you smile SirHere’s Bruin next from Russia come,Dont let him you affright,Tho in his manner rather roughYou’ll... more...

PARADISE Canto 1 - 33 CANTO I His glory, by whose might all things are mov'd,Pierces the universe, and in one partSheds more resplendence, elsewhere less. In heav'n,That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,Witness of things, which to relate againSurpasseth power of him who comes from thence;For that, so near approaching its desireOur intellect is to such depth absorb'd,That memory... more...

THE SINGING MAN I He sang above the vineyards of the world.  And after him the vines with woven handsClambered and clung, and everywhere unfurled  Triumphing green above the barren lands;Till high as gardens grow, he climbed, he stood,  Sun-crowned with life and strength, and singing toil,And looked upon his work; and it was good:        The corn, the wine, the oil. He sang above the... more...

               And indeed He seems to me  Scarce other than my king's ideal knight,  'Who reverenced his conscience as his king;  Whose glory was, redressing human wrong;  Who spake no slander, no, nor listened to it;  Who loved one only and who clave to her—'  Her—over all whose realms to their last isle,  Commingled with the gloom of imminent... more...

FLYING KITESA blustering windy day's just rightFor boys who want to fly a kite;And it affords the greatest joyTo make and use the pretty toy.But Aged Duffers, do not tryA large-sized paper kite to fly;You could not manage tail or string,And ten to one you'd spoil the thing.A morning full of happiness any boy may findBy sailing boats upon the lake, if he is so inclined;The wind it drives them... more...

THE DEFEAT OF YOUTH I. UNDER THE TREES. here had been phantoms, pale-remembered shapesOf this and this occasion, sisterlyIn their resemblances, each effigyCrowned with the same bright hair above the nape'sWhite rounded firmness, and each body alertWith such swift loveliness, that very restSeemed a poised movement: ... phantoms that impressedBut a faint influence and could bless or hurtNo more than... more...

Old Ragnor's Cliffs. Like some horrific Gorgon's mammoth skull,Thrown up by Titan spade,From out those cavesWhere saurians with mastodons had played,Before the sea had made their homes their graves,And scared their ghosts with screech of sea-born mew and gull, Is Ragnor's beetling brow, the seaman's dread,That scowls by night and dayOn that same seaAnd with earth-shaking sound is... more...

“Arms and the man” was Virgil’s strain; But we propose in lighter vein To browse a crop from pastures (Green’s) Of England’s Evolution scenes. Who would from facts prognosticate The future progress of this State, Must own the chiefest fact to be Her escalator is the Sea.   HISTORIANS erudite and sage, When writing of the past stone age, Tell us man once was clothed in skins And tattooed... more...