Poetry Books

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"A true poet is one of the most precious gifts that can be bestowed on a generation." He speaks for it and he speaks to it. Reflecting and interpreting his age and its thoughts, feelings, and purposes, he speaks for it; and with a love of truth, with a keener moral insight into the universal heart of man, and with the intuition of inspiration, he speaks to it, and through it to the world. It is... more...

Behind the Arras I like the old house tolerably well, Where I must dwell Like a familiar gnome; And yet I never shall feel quite at home: I love to roam. Day after day I loiter and explore From door to door; So many treasures lure The curious mind. What histories obscure They must immure! I hardly know which room I care for best; This fronting west, With the strange hills in view, Where the great sun... more...

by: Anonymous
Aladdin poor the wizard found,Who moved from cavern’s mouth a stone;Then bade him go beneath the ground,And pace through unknown realms alone,Till from a niche he bore awayA lamp—extinguishing its ray.  The youth obedient instant hied,When fruits luxuriant met his sight;The white were pearls in snowy pride,Diamonds the clear—of brilliant light;For red the rubies dazzling blazed,Whereof Aladdin... more...

LET ME SING OF WHAT I KNOWA wild west Coast, a little Town,Where little Folk go up and down,Tides flow and winds blow:Night and Tempest and the Sea,Human Will and Human Fate:What is little, what is great?Howsoe'er the answer be,Let me sing of what I know.Adieu to Belashanny!where I was bred and born;Go where I may, I'll think of you,as sure as night and morn.The kindly spot, the friendly... more...

SONGS OF TWO I   Last night I dreamed this dream: That I was dead;      And as I slept, forgot of man and God,      That other dreamless sleep of rest,      I heard a footstep on the sod,      As of one passing overhead,—  And lo, thou, Dear, didst touch me on the breast,      Saying: "What shall I write against thy name          That men should... more...

THE FAIRY CHANGELING Dermod O’Byrne of Omah townIn his garden strode up and down;He pulled his beard, and he beat his breast;And this is his trouble and woe confessed: “The good-folk came in the night, and theyHave stolen my bonny wean away;Have put in his place a changeling,A weashy, weakly, wizen thing! “From the speckled hen nine eggs I stole,And lighting a fire of a glowing coal,I fried the... more...

The following translation was undertaken from a desire to lay before the English-speaking people the full treasury of epical beauty, folklore, and mythology comprised in The Kalevala, the national epic of the Finns. A brief description of this peculiar people, and of their ethical, linguistic, social, and religious life, seems to be called for here in order that the following poem may be the better... more...

PREFACE This is not like other collections of religious verse; still less is it a hymnal. The present volume is directed to a very specific and wholly practical end, the production of high personal character; and only those poems which have an immediate bearing in this direction have been admitted. We know of no other book published which has followed this special line. There are fine hymnals,... more...

A CHANNEL PASSAGE 1855Forth from Calais, at dawn of night, when sunset summer on autumn shone,Fared the steamer alert and loud through seas whence only the sun was gone:Soft and sweet as the sky they smiled, and bade man welcome: a dim sweet hourGleamed and whispered in wind and sea, and heaven was fair as a field in flower.Stars fulfilled the desire of the darkling world as with music: the starbright... more...

PREFACE. In this, the third series of Breakfast-Table conversations, a slight dramatic background shows off a few talkers and writers, aided by certain silent supernumeraries. The machinery is much like that of the two preceding series. Some of the characters must seem like old acquaintances to those who have read the former papers. As I read these over for the first time for a number of years, I... more...