Poetry Books

"ONLY A BABY SMALL" Only a baby small,Dropped from the skies,Only a laughing face,Two sunny eyes;Only two cherry lips,One chubby nose;Only two little hands,Ten little toes. Only a golden head,Curly and soft;Only a tongue that wagsLoudly and oft;Only a little brain,Empty of thought;Only a little heart,Troubled with naught. Only a tender flowerSent us to rear;Only a life to loveWhile we are... more...

In Spring,While softly cooedThe Dove, SamTold Selina ofHis Love. The Summer Moon smiled on them both,Selina plighted him her Troth. But Autumn brought a gayer Swain—Selina broke it off again. 'Tis Winter now—Selina's slack—She'd give her thumbs to have him back. Yet—When they metShe tossed her head; HeStared at her andCut her dead! But Fate at last to them was kind:It... more...

Milkmaid. An Old Song exhibited & explainedin many designs by R. Caldecott. A Lady said to her Son—a poor young Squire: “You must seek a Wife with a Fortune!”           “Where are you going, my Pretty Maid?” “I'm going a-milking, Sir,” she said.         “Shall I go with you, my Pretty Maid?” “Oh yes, if you please, kind Sir,” she said.       “What is your... more...

Christmas Roses A BUNCH of Christmas Roses, dear,To greet my fairest child,I plucked them in my garden whereThe drifting snow lay piled. I cannot bring thee violets dear,Or cowslips growing wild,Or daisy chain for thee to wear,For thee to wear, my child.For all the grassy meadows nearAre clad with snow, my child;Through all the days of winter drearNo ray of sun has smiled.I plucked this bunch of... more...

As in a Rose-Jar As in a rose-jar filled with petals sweet Blown long ago in some old garden place, Mayhap, where you and I, a little space, Drank deep of love and knew that love was fleet— Or leaves once gathered from a lost retreat By one who never will again retrace Her silent footsteps—one, whose gentle face Was fairer than the roses at her feet; So, deep within the vase of memory, I keep my... more...

THE SPRING. When wintry weather's all a-done, An' brooks do sparkle in the zun, An' nâisy-buildèn rooks do vlee Wi' sticks toward their elem tree; When birds do zing, an' we can zee Upon the boughs the buds o' spring,— Then I'm as happy as a king, A-vield wi' health an' zunsheen. Vor then the cowslip's hangèn flow'r A-wetted in the zunny... more...

heOwl and the Pussy-Cat went to seaIn a beautiful pea-green boat,They took some honey, and plenty of moneyWrapped up in a five-pound note.The Owl looked up to the stars above,And sang to a small guitar,"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,What a beautiful Pussy you are,You are,You are!What a beautiful Pussy you are!"Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl!How charmingly sweet you sing!O let us... more...

GENERAL INTRODUCTION B OOKS are as much a part of the furnishing of a house as tables and chairs, and in the making of a home they belong, not with the luxuries but with the necessities. A bookless house is not a home; for a home affords food and shelter for the mind as well as for the body. It is as great an offence against a child to starve his mind as to starve his body, and there is as much danger... more...

HYMEN As from a temple service, tall and dignified, with slow pace, each a queen, the sixteen matrons from the temple of Hera pass before the curtain—a dark purple hung between Ionic columns—of the porch or open hall of a palace. Their hair is bound as the marble hair of the temple Hera. Each wears a crown or diadem of gold. They sing—the music is temple music, deep, simple, chanting notes:From... more...

INTRODUCTION The last decade of the sixteenth century was marked by an outburst of sonneteering. To devotees of the sonnet, who find in that poetic form the moat perfect vehicle that has ever been devised for the expression of a single importunate emotion, it will not seem strange that at the threshold of a literary period whose characteristic note is the most intense personality, the instinct of poets... more...