Poetry Books
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THE BURIAL OF THE LINNET.Found in the garden—dead in his beauty.Ah! that a linnet should die in the spring!Bury him, comrades, in pitiful duty,Muffle the dinner-bell, solemnly ring.Bury him kindly—up in the corner;Bird, beast, and gold-fish are sepulchred there;Bid the black kitten march as chief mourner,Waving her tail like a plume in the air.Bury him nobly—next to the donkey;Fetch the old...
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DERNE. The storming of the city of Derne, in 1805, by General Eaton, at the head of nine Americans, forty Greeks, and a motley array of Turks and Arabs, was one of those feats of hardihood and daring which have in all ages attracted the admiration of the multitude. The higher and holier heroism of Christian self-denial and sacrifice, in the humble walks of private duty, is seldom so well appreciated....
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THE NIBELUNGENLIED (1) ADVENTURE I (2) Full many a wonder is told us in stories old, of heroes worthy of praise, of hardships dire, of joy and feasting, of the fighting of bold warriors, of weeping and of wailing; now ye may hear wonders told. In Burgundy there grew so noble a maid that in all the lands none fairer might there be. Kriemhild (3) was she called; a comely woman she became, for whose sake...
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In these days when the old civilisation is crumbling beneath our feet, the thought of poetry crosses the mind like the dear memory of things that have long since passed away. In our passionate desire for the new era, it is difficult to refrain oneself from the commonplace practice of speculating on the effects of warfare and of prophesying all manner of novel rebirths. But it may be well for us to...
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VENUS AND ADONIS EVEN as the sun with purple-colour'd faceHad ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,Rose-cheek'd Adonis tried him to the chase;Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn; 4Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,And like a bold-fac'd suitor 'gins to woo him. 'Thrice fairer than myself,' thus she began,'The field's chief...
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by:
Kate Greenaway
SUSAN BLUE. Oh, Susan Blue, How do you do? Please may I go for a walk with you? Where shall we go? Oh, I know— Down in the meadow where the cowslips grow![5] Little Blue Shoes Mustn't go Very far alone, you know Else she'll fall down, Or, lose her way; Fancy—what Would mamma say? Better put her little hand Under sister's wise command. When she's a little older grown Blue Shoes...
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BACK FROM TOWN Old friends allus is the best,Halest-like and heartiest:Knowed us first, and don't allowWe're so blame much better now!They was standin' at the barsWhen we grabbed "the kivvered kyars"And lit out fer town, to makeMoney—and that old mistake! We thought then the world we wentInto beat "The Settlement,"And the friends 'at we'd make thereWould beat...
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Brave and True, by E Dawson. “But I say, Martin, tell us about it! My pater wrote to me that you’d done no end of heroic things, and saved Bullace senior from being killed. His pater told him, so I know it’s all right. But wasn’t it a joke you two should be on the same ship?” Martin looked up at his old schoolfellow. He had suddenly become a person of importance in the well-known old haunts...
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by:
Frank Sidgwick
PREFACE This volume concludes the series, begun in 1903, which was intended to comprise all the best traditional ballads of England and Scotland. The scheme of classification by subject-matter, arbitrary and haphazard as it may seem to be at one point or another, has, I think, proved more satisfactory than could have been anticipated; and in the end I have omitted no ballad without due justification....
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by:
Anonymous
THE BURIAL OF COCK ROBIN. Here lies Cock Robin,Dead and cold;This book his endWill soon unfold. Who kill'd Cock Robin?I, said the Sparrow,With my bow and arrow,And I kill'd Cock Robin. This is the Sparrow,With his bow and arrow. Who saw him die?I, said the fly,With my little eye,And I saw him die. This is the Fly,With his little eye. Who caught his blood?I, said the Fish,With my little...
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