Poetry Books

The Land God Forgot The lonely sunsets flare forlornDown valleys dreadly desolate;The lordly mountains soar in scornAs still as death, as stern as fate. The lonely sunsets flame and die;The giant valleys gulp the night;The monster mountains scrape the sky,Where eager stars are diamond-bright. So gaunt against the gibbous moon,Piercing the silence velvet-piled,A lone wolf howls his ancient rune —The... more...

THE CHRONICLE OF THE DRUM. PART I. At Paris, hard by the Maine barriers,Whoever will choose to repair,Midst a dozen of wooden-legged warriorsMay haply fall in with old Pierre.On the sunshiny bench of a tavernHe sits and he prates of old wars,And moistens his pipe of tobaccoWith a drink that is named after Mars. The beer makes his tongue run the quicker,And as long as his tap never fails,Thus over his... more...

CANTO XIII ERE Nessus yet had reach'd the other bank,We enter'd on a forest, where no trackOf steps had worn a way.  Not verdant thereThe foliage, but of dusky hue; not lightThe boughs and tapering, but with knares deform'dAnd matted thick: fruits there were none, but thornsInstead, with venom fill'd. Less sharp than these,Less intricate the brakes, wherein abideThose animals, that... more...

THE BROOK.I come from haunts of coot and hern,I make sudden sallyAnd sparkle out among the fern,To bicker down a valley.By thirty hills I hurry down,Or slip between the ridges,By twenty thorps, a little town,And half a hundred bridges.I chatter over stony ways,In little sharps and trebles,I bubble into eddying bays,I babble on the pebbles.With many a curve my banks I fretBy many a field and fallow,And... more...

TO OUR LITTLE READERS.Listen, little children, all,Listen to our earnest call:You are very young, 'tis true,But there's much that you can do.Even you can plead with menThat they buy not slaves again,And that those they have may beQuickly set at liberty.They may hearken whatyousay,Though fromusthey turn away.Sometimes, when from school you walk,You can with your playmates talk,Tell them of the... more...

THE TEMPEST (By Mary Lamb) There was a certain island in the sea, the only inhabitants of which were an old man, whose name was Prospero, and his daughter Miranda, a very beautiful young lady. She came to this island so young, that she had no memory of having seen any other human face than her father's. They lived in a cave or cell, made out of a rock: it was divided into several apartments, one... more...

ROSAMUND. His blew His winds, and they were scattered. 'One soweth and another reapeth.'                                     Ay,Too true, too true. One soweth—unawareCometh a reaper stealthily while he dreams—Bindeth the golden sheaf, and in his bosomAs 't were between the dewfall and the dawnBears it away. Who other was to blame?Is it I? Is it... more...

AT THE FOOT OF HEMLOCK MOUNTAIN "In connection with this phase of the problem of transportation it must be remembered that the rush of population to the great cities was no temporary movement. It is caused by a final revolt against that malignant relic of the dark ages, the country village and by a healthy craving for the deep, full life of the metropolis, for contact with the vitalizing stream of... more...

PREFACE. In issuing this collection of Songs, the author makes the following acknowledgments:— "The American Ça ira" was suggested while reading the French song of that name, from which song the phrase ça ira alone was appropriated. In "The Song of William the Conqueror," his characteristic oath, "By the splendor of God!" is used. In the "Death Song of the Enfants... more...

One foot up and one foot downAnd that's the way to— [02] [03]C,B,W,WITL, ,WFI:C,—SP',,U, O'. [04] [05] [06] [07]CONTENTSPageTHE TOWER OF LONDON, , ,THE OMNIBUSTHE PENNY-ICE MANCOVENT GARDEN,THE PENNY-TOY MANTHE ORANGE GIRLTHE FIRST OF MAYST. JAMES' PARK,WESTMINSTER ABBEY, ,CHARITY GIRLSTHE BRITISH MUSEUM, ,THE UNDERGROUND RAILWAY,THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS, ,THE MILK WOMANTHE MUFFIN... more...