Poetry Books

A GENTLEMAN OF THE HIGHWAYS By KATHRYN JARBOE Since early morning nothing but sunshine had entered the hospitable doorway of The Jolly Grig, a tavern not a dozen miles from the outer edge of London town. Across the white, sanded floor golden patches of light had moved with measured tread, and merry motes had danced in the golden beams, but nothing else had stirred. On the deep hearth were piled huge... 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? It is... more...

I NEVER SAW THAT LAND BEFORE I NEVER saw that land before,And now can never see it again;Yet, as if by acquaintance hoarEndeared, by gladness and by pain,Great was the affection that I bore To the valley and the river small,The cattle, the grass, the bare ash trees,The chickens from the farmsteads, allElm-hidden, and the tributariesDescending at equal interval; The blackthorns down along the brookWith... more...

THE THREE JOVIAL HUNTSMEN.          It's of three jovial huntsmen, an' a hunting they did go;An' they hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' they blew their horns alsoLook ye there!An' one said, "Mind yo'r e'en, an' keep yo'r noses reet i' th' windAn' then, by scent or seet, we'll leet o' summat to our mind."Look ye... more...

SPRING BLOSSOMS. Here, for the infant minds, fair spring,Blossoms of bright truth we bring,Seeds of virtue there to sow,Ere a single weed can grow. Here may you learn how sweet the bliss,To worship nature’s loveliness,Escaping through her flow’ry charm,Each thought or wish to do a harm. For when the tender buds of truth,Expand within the minds of youth,They cast a bloom around the heartThat will... more...

Hark! hark! the dogs bark,The beggars are coming to town;Some in rags and some in tags,And some in a silken gown.Some gave them white bread,And some gave them brown,And some gave them a good horse-whip,And sent them out of the town.   Little Jack Horner sat in the corner,Eating a Christmas pie;He put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum,And said, oh! what a good boy am I.   There was an old womanLived... more...

PREFACE. The idea of translating Catullus in the original metres adopted by the poet himself was suggested to me many years ago by the admirable, though, in England, insufficiently known, version of Theodor Heyse (Berlin, 1855). My first attempts were modelled upon him, and were so unsuccessful that I dropt the idea for some time altogether. In 1868, the year following the publication of my larger... more...

A Hero and A Great Man They say knowledge is power.Power walks with ambition.Ambition will devourA man without vision. Through a turbid town,A great man walks.Through a troubled town,A great man talks. He tells tales of bravery.On attention he feeds.With speech most savoryHe boasts of great deeds. He is well respected.He enjoys much recognition.He hopes to be selectedFor a prestigious position. He... more...

Renascence and Other Poems Renascence All I could see from where I stoodWas three long mountains and a wood;I turned and looked another way,And saw three islands in a bay.So with my eyes I traced the lineOf the horizon, thin and fine,Straight around till I was comeBack to where I'd started from;And all I saw from where I stoodWas three long mountains and a wood.Over these things I could not... more...

upon a time I visited Fairy-land and spent a day in Goblin-town. The people there are much like ourselves, only they are very, very small and roguish. They play pranks on one another and have great fun. They are good natured and jolly, and rarely get angry. But if one does get angry, he quickly recovers his good nature and joins again in the sport. If a Goblin should continue angry he would take on some... more...