Poetry Books

I. THE GLUG QUEST Follow the river and cross the ford,Follow again to the wobbly bridge,Turn to the left at the notice board,Climbing the cow-track over the ridge;Tip-toe soft by the little red house,Hold your breath if they touch the latch,Creep to the slip-rails, still as a mouse,Then . . . run like mad for the bracken patch. Worm your way where the fern fronds tallFashion a lace-work over your... more...

NO SECT IN HEAVEN.Talkingof sects till late one eve,Of the various doctrines the saints believe,That night I stood in a troubled dream,By the side of a darkly flowing stream.And a "Churchman" down to the river came:When I heard a strange voice call his name,"Good father, stop; when you cross this tideYou must leave your robes on the other side."But the aged father did not mind,And his... more...

Prologue As of old Phoenician men, to the Tin Isles sailingStraight against the sunset and the edges of the earth,Chaunted loud above the storm and the strange sea's wailing,Legends of their people and the land that gave them birth—Sang aloud to Baal-Peor, sang unto the horned maiden,Sang how they should come again with the Brethon treasure laden,Sang of all the pride and glory of their hardy... more...

MEMOIR. Frederick William Thomas was the oldest child of E. S. Thomas and Anna his wife. He was born at Providence Rhode Island, but spent his earlier years at Charleston South Carolina, where Mr. E. S. Thomas resided and edited and published the Charleston City Gazette. While Frederick William was still young, Mr. Thomas removed to Baltimore Maryland, and there his son was educated and brought up to... more...

Recent inquiries into the life of Henry Vaughan have added but little to the information already contained in the memoirs of Mr. Lyte and Dr. Grosart. I have, however, been enabled to put together a few notes on this somewhat obscure subject, which may be taken as supplementary to Mr. Beeching's Introduction in Vol. I. It will be well to preface them by reprinting the account of Anthony à Wood,... more...

THE VOICE THAT SINGS The voice that sings across the night   Of long forgotten days and things,Is there an ear to hear aright   The voice that sings? It is as when a curfew rings   Melodious in the dying light,A sound that flies on pulsing wings. And faded eyes that once were bright   Brim over, as to life it bringsThe echo of a dead delight,   The voice that sings. In vain you fervently... more...

The Farmer's Boy.WhenI was a farmer, a Farmer's Boy,       I used to keep my master's HORSES,WithaGee-wohere, and aGee-wothere,      And here aGee, and there aGee,      And everywhere aGee;Says I,My pretty lass, will you come to the banks of the Aire oh?WhenI was a farmer, a Farmer's Boy,      I used to keep my master's LAMBS,WithaBaa-baahere, and... more...

ADVERTISEMENT.ThisPoem is the result of a sense of duty, which has taken the Author from quieter studies during a great public crisis. He obeyed the impulse with joy, because it took the shape of verse; but with more pain, on some accounts, than he chooses to express. However, he has done what he conceived himself bound to do; and if every zealous lover of his species were to express his feelings in... more...

TO NEW YORKFor maid and lad New York is fairy land,Delightful charms in gorgeous brilliant lure!Our youth do struggle on ambition's tour.They meet life's challenge with true heart and hand.Forgotten trails are marked with scar and wand;A blasted rock and broken twigs assureThe traveler that others fought the moor,And sailed the stormy breakers, crossed the sandTo build the city on a granite... more...

The Animals' Rebellion. The "Trip to Sea" had long been made,The "Picnic" bills had all been paid;But if you'll listen, I will tellWhat made the animals rebel. The Tiger was dissatisfied—"Why should the Lion reign?" he cried;"He's no more King of Beasts than I;So let us all his rule defy!" A secret meeting then he called:And while the others stood... more...