Poetry Books

BEST NONSENSE VERSES FATHER WILLIAM OU are old, father William," the young man said,"And your hair has become very white:And yet you incessantly stand on your head—Do you think, at your age, it is right?" "In my youth," father William replied to his son,"I feared it might injure the brain:But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,Why, I do it again and again."... more...

PROUD SIGNILD. Proud Signild’s bold brothers have taken her hand,They’ve wedded her into a far distant land. They’ve wedded her far from her own native land,To her father’s foul murderer gave they her hand. And so for eight winters the matter it stood,Their face for eight winters she never once view’d. Proud Signild she brews, and the ruddy wine blends;To her brothers so courteous a bidding... more...

Darkly you sweep on, Eternal Fugitive, round whose bodiless rush stagnant space frets into eddying bubbles of light. Is your heart lost to the Lover calling you across his immeasurable loneliness? Is the aching urgency of your haste the sole reason why your tangled tresses break into stormy riot and pearls of fire roll along your path as from a broken necklace? Your fleeting steps kiss the dust of this... more...

MIST IN THE VALLEYIMist in the valley, weeping mistBeset my homeward way.No gleam of rose or amethystHallowed the parting day;A shroud, a shroud of awful greyWrapped every woodland brow,And drooped in crumbling disarrayAround each wintry bough.IIAnd closer round me now it clungUntil I scarce could seeThe stealthy pathway overhungBy silent tree and treeWhich floated in that mysteryAs—poised in... more...

How Lisa loved the King. Six hundred years ago, in Dante’s time,Before his cheek was furrowed by deep rhyme;When Europe, fed afresh from Eastern story,Was like a garden tangled with the gloryOf flowers hand-planted and of flowers air-sown,Climbing and trailing, budding and full-blown,Where purple bells are tossed amid pink stars,And springing blades, green troops in innocent wars,Crowd every shady... more...

LITTLE ENGEL. It was the little Engel, he   So handsome was and gay;To Upland rode he on a tide   And bore a maid away. In ill hour he to Upland rode   And made a maid his prize;The first night they together lay   Was down by Vesteryse. It was the little Engel he   Awoke at black midnight,And straight begins his dream to state   In terror and affright. “Methought the wolf-whelp and his... more...

ADAM MICKIEWICZ (1798-1855) The last of the eighteenth century was an important period for Russia and Poland, not only politically, but in letters and art. It marked the birth of statesmen, patriots, poets and writers. It was into a Poland of great names and greater activities that Adam Mickiewicz was born in 1798, as son of an impoverished family of the old nobility. Three years before, the third and... more...

THE TRUMPET RISE up, rise up,And, as the trumpet blowingChases the dreams of men,As the dawn glowingThe stars that left unlitThe land and water,Rise up and scatterThe dew that coversThe print of last night's lovers—Scatter it, scatter it! While you are listeningTo the clear horn,Forget, men, everythingOn this earth newborn,Except that it is lovelierThan any mysteries.Open your eyes to the... more...

The prologe.   WHan I aduert in my remembraunce The famous draughtes of poetes eloquent Whiche theyr myndes dyd well enhaunce Bokes to contryue that were expedyent To be remembred without Impedyment For the profyte of humanyte This was the custume of antyquyte. I now symple and moost rude And naked in depured eloquence For dulnes rethoryke doth exclude Wherfore in makynge I lake intellygence Also... more...

INTRODUCTION. AN INQUIRY INTO THE ORIGIN OF BASE-BALL, WITH A BRIEF SKETCH OF ITS HISTORY. It may or it may not be a serious reflection upon the accuracy of history that the circumstances of the invention of the first ball are enveloped in some doubt. Herodotus attributes it to the Lydians, but several other writers unite in conceding to a certain beautiful lady of Corcyra, Anagalla by name, the credit... more...