Poetry Books

THE MOUSE AND HER SONS.Once on a time there lived a Mouse,Sole mistress of a spacious house,And rich as mouse need be:'Tis true her dwelling, underground,Was neither long, nor square, nor round,But suiting her degree.No lofty ceilings there were seen,No windows clear, or gardens green,Or rooms with neat division.But, in a corner, she could findOf viands, sorted to her mind,A notable provision.Her... more...

Since the publication of Edward Fitzgerald's classic translation of the Rubaiyat in 1851 - or rather since its general popularity several years later - poets minor and major have been rendering the sincerest form of flattery to the genius of the Irishman who brought Persia into the best regulated families. Unfortunately there was only one Omar and there were scores of imitators who, in order to... more...

INTRODUCTION Thirteen years after the publication, in 1855, of the Poems, in two volumes, entitled "Men and Women," Browning reviewed his work and made an interesting reclassification of it. He separated the simpler pieces of a lyric or epic cast—such rhymed presentations of an emotional moment, for example, as "Mesmerism" and "A Woman's Last Word," or the picturesque... more...

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... more...

  Oft tho' thy genius, D——! amply fraughtWith native wealth, explore new worlds of mind;Whence the bright ores of drossless wisdom brought,Stampt by the Muse's hand, enrich mankind;   Tho' willing Nature to thy curious eye,Involved in night, her mazy depths betray;Till at their source thy piercing search descryThe streams, that bathe with Life our mortal clay;   Tho',... more...

POET LAUREATE. This book in its progress has recalled often to my memory a man with whose friendship we were once honoured, to whom no region of English literature was unfamiliar, and who, whilst rich in all the noble gifts of nature, was most eminently distinguished by the noblest and the rarest,—just judgment and high-hearted patriotism. It would have been hence a peculiar pleasure and pride to... more...

BOOK I THE CROSSING OF THE RUBICON Wars worse than civil on Emathian (1) plains,And crime let loose we sing; how Rome's high racePlunged in her vitals her victorious sword;Armies akin embattled, with the forceOf all the shaken earth bent on the fray;And burst asunder, to the common guilt,A kingdom's compact; eagle with eagle met,Standard to standard, spear opposed to spear. Whence, citizens,... more...

The Chinese Nightingale Second Section America Watching the War, August, 1914, to April, 1917   Where Is the Real Non-resistant?  Here's to the Mice!  When Bryan Speaks  To Jane Addams at the Hague     I. Speak Now for Peace    II. Tolstoi Is Plowing Yet  The Tale of the Tiger Tree  The Merciful Hand Third Section America at War with Germany, Beginning April, 1917   Our... more...

CANTO XIX It was the hour, when of diurnal heatNo reliques chafe the cold beams of the moon,O'erpower'd by earth, or planetary swayOf Saturn; and the geomancer seesHis Greater Fortune up the east ascend,Where gray dawn checkers first the shadowy cone;When 'fore me in my dream a woman's shapeThere came, with lips that stammer'd, eyes aslant,Distorted feet, hands maim'd, and... more...

SLEIGHING SONG.Hurrah! Hurrah! for the jolly snow!Over it we lightly go:Dear sister is so glad, you see,To have a nice drive in the sleigh with me,To have a nice drive in the sleigh with me—Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!Hurrah! Hurrah for the ice and cold!Both very young and gay and bold,We fear no snow, we fear no ice,There's naught in the world that is half so nice,There's naught in the world... more...