Poetry Books

Too long have Britain’s sons with proud disdainSurvey’d the gay Patrician’s titled train,Their various merit scann’d with eye severe,Nor learn’d to know the peasant from the peer:At length the Gothic ignorance is o’er,And vulgar brows shall scowl on LORDS no more;Commons shall shrink at each ennobled nod,And ev’ry lordling shine a demigod:By CRAVEN taught, the humbler herd shall know,How... more...

The ancestry of William Cullen Bryant might have been inferred from the character of his writings, which reflect whatever is best and noblest in the life and thought of New England. It was a tradition that the first Bryant of whom there is any account in the annals of the New World came over in the Mayflower, but the tradition is not authenticated. What is known of this gentleman, Mr. Stephen Bryant,... more...

THEILLUSTRATEDALPHABET OF BIRDS       BOSTONWM. CROSBY & H.P. NICHOLS.1851.      A     a   THE AUK A is an Auk,   Of the Artic sea,He lives on the ice,   Where the winds blow free.          B     b THE BLUE BIRD. B is a Blue Bird.  In early spring,How sweet his songs  Through the forest ring.      C    c   THE CONDOR. C is a Condor,  On the Andes'... more...

Strange Meeting It seemed that out of the battle I escapedDown some profound dull tunnel, long since scoopedThrough granites which Titanic wars had groined.Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and staredWith piteous recognition in fixed eyes,Lifting distressful hands as if to bless.And by his smile, I knew that... more...

THEAFFECTIONATE SHEPHEARD. THE TEARES OF AN AFFECTIONATE SHEPHEARD SICKE FOR LOVE,OR THE COMPLAINT OF DAPHNIS FOR THELOVE OF GANIMEDE.Scarce had the morning starre hid from the lightHeavens crimson canopie with stars bespangled,But I began to rue th' unhappy sightOf that faire boy that had my hart intangled;Cursing the time, the place, the sense, the sin;I came, I saw, I viewd, I slipped in.If it... more...

THE HIGHER PANTHEISMIN A NUTSHELL One, who is not, we see: but one, whom we see not, is:Surely this is not that: but that is assuredly this.What, and wherefore, and whence? for under is over and under:If thunder could be without lightning, lightning could be without thunder.Doubt is faith in the main: but faith, on the whole, is doubt:We cannot believe by proof: but could we believe without?Why, and... more...

THE MAN THAT WAS A GHOSTGold light across the golden coomb;The sun went west with horns of fire;Athwart the sweet, sea-breathing roomThe swallows swooped; the village spireGlowed red against a gleam of broom;While earth its scented secrets told,There, silent, sunset-aureoled,Sat Ioläus, mild and old.In distance large the moving shipsSailed on into the evening skies.He gazed, and saw not. In eclipseHe... more...

e have no means of knowing the history of Master "Ebenezer Cook, Gentleman," who, one hundred and forty-six years ago, produced the Sot-Weed Factor's Voyage to Maryland. He wrote, printed, published, and sold it in London for sixpence sterling, and then disappeared forever. We do not know certainly that Mr. Cook himself was the actual adventurer who suffered the ills described by him... more...

THE MAN OF UZ. A joyous festival.— The gathering back Of scattered flowrets to the household wreath. Brothers and sisters from their sever'd homes Meeting with ardent smile, to renovate The love that sprang from cradle memories And childhood's sports, and whose perennial stream Still threw fresh crystals o'er the sands of life. —Each bore some treasured picture of the past, Some... more...

When Day Is Done When day is done and the night slips down,And I've turned my back on the busy town,And come once more to the welcome gateWhere the roses nod and the children wait,I tell myself as I see them smileThat life is good and its tasks worth while. When day is done and I've come once moreTo my quiet street and the friendly door,Where the Mother reigns and the children playAnd the... more...