Poetry Books

CANTO III "THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe:Through me you pass into eternal pain:Through me among the people lost for aye.Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd:To rear me was the task of power divine,Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.Before me things create were none, save thingsEternal, and eternal I endure. "All hope abandon ye who enter here." Such characters in colour... more...

No species of poetry is more ancient than the lyrical, and yet none shows so little sign of having outlived the requirements of human passion. The world may grow tired of epics and of tragedies, but each generation, as it sees the hawthorns blossom and the freshness of girlhood expand, is seized with a pang which nothing but the spasm of verse will relieve. Each youth imagines that spring-tide and love... more...

ARE WOMEN PEOPLE? A Consistent Anti to Her Son("Look at the hazards, the risks, the physical dangers that ladies would be exposed to at the polls."—Anti-suffrage speech.)You're twenty-one to-day, Willie, And a danger lurks at the door, I've known about it always, But I never spoke before; When you were only a baby It seemed so very remote, But you're twenty-one to-day, Willie,... more...

HOPE AND FEARBeneath the shadow of dawn's aerial cope,With eyes enkindled as the sun's own sphere,Hope from the front of youth in godlike cheerLooks Godward, past the shades where blind men gropeRound the dark door that prayers nor dreams can ope,And makes for joy the very darkness dearThat gives her wide wings play; nor dreams that fearAt noon may rise and pierce the heart of hope.Then, when... more...

BED IN SUMMERIN winter I get up at nightAnd dress by yellow candle-light.In summer, quite the other way,I have to go to bed by day. I have to go to bed and seeThe birds still hopping on the tree,Or hear the grown-up people's feetStill going past me in the street. And does it not seem hard to you,When all the sky is clear and blue,And I should like so much to play,To have to go to bed by day? IIIT... more...

NIELS EBBESEN. All his men the Count collects,   And from Slesvig marched away;Never such as host was seen   Or before or since that day. Into Denmark marched the Count,   Followed by so fair a band;Banners twenty-four they bore,   Power like theirs might none withstand. Gert the Count to Randers rode,   To bad counsel lending ear;For from old it stood foretold,   He should end there his... more...

CANTO XXVI While singly thus along the rim we walk'd,Oft the good master warn'd me: "Look thou well.Avail it that I caution thee."  The sunNow all the western clime irradiate chang'dFrom azure tinct to white; and, as I pass'd,My passing shadow made the umber'd flameBurn ruddier.  At so strange a sight I mark'dThat many a spirit marvel'd on his way. This bred... 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...

ON THE LIFE AND POETIC GENIUS OF EDWARD YOUNG. Between the period of George Herbert, and that of Edward Young, some singular changes had taken place in British poetry as well as in British manners, politics, and religion. There had passed over the land the thunderstorm of the Puritanic Revolt, which had first clouded and then cleared, for a season, the intellectual and moral horizon. The effect of this... more...

THE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW "Different people have different opinions" The North Wind doth blow,And we shall have snow,And what will the robin do then? Poor thing!He will sit in a barn,And to keep himself warmHe will hide his head under his wing. Poor thing! Oh, how cold it was! The North Wind howled round the barn, whirling the snowflakes into a little heap inside the half-open door. Even beyond... more...