Poetry Books

SPRING NIGHT   THE park is filled with night and fog,     The veils are drawn about the world,  The drowsy lights along the paths     Are dim and pearled.   Gold and gleaming the empty streets,     Gold and gleaming the misty lake,  The mirrored lights like sunken swords,     Glimmer and shake.   Oh, is it not enough to be  Here with this beauty over me?  My throat... more...

THE SONG OF THE FLAG. I.Up with the country's flag!And let the winds caress it, fold on fold,—A stainless flag, and glorious to behold!It is our honour's pledge;It is the token of a truth sublime,A thing to die for, and to wonder at,When, on the shuddering edgeOf some great storm, it waves its woven joy,Which no man shall destroy,In shine or shower, in peace or battle-time.Up with the... more...

THE NUTS OF KNOWLEDGEA cabin on the mountain side hid in a grassy nookWhere door and windows open wide that friendly stars may look.The rabbit shy can patter in, the winds may enter free,Who throng around the mountain throne in living ecstasy.And when the sun sets dimmed in eve and purple fills the air,I think the sacred Hazel Tree is dropping berries thereFrom starry fruitage waved aloft where... more...

PREFACE. Knowing within myself the manner in which this Poem has been produced, it is not without a feeling of regret that I make it public. What manner I mean, will be quite clear to the reader, who must soon perceive great inexperience, immaturity, and every error denoting a feverish attempt, rather than a deed accomplished. The two first books, and indeed the two last, I feel sensible are not of... more...

There is a room upstairs in the old house at Fruitlands in Harvard, Massachusetts, where the visitors pause and look about them with a softening glance and often with visible emotion, as though they felt a sudden nearness to something infinitely intimate and personal. They have come to see the place where Bronson Alcott and the group of transcendentalists cut themselves off from the world in the spring... more...

ATHENS AN ODEEre from under earth again like fire the violet kindle,[Str. 1. Ere the holy buds and hoar on olive-branches bloom,Ere the crescent of the last pale month of winter dwindle,Shrink, and fall as falls a dead leaf on the dead month's tomb,Round the hills whose heights the first-born olive-blossom brightened,Round the city brow-bound once with violets like a bride,Up from under earth... more...

FOR YOU, MOTHER I have a dream for you, Mother,Like a soft thick fringe to hide your eyes.I have a surprise for you, Mother,Shaped like a strange butterfly.I have found a way of thinkingTo make you happy;I have made a song and a poemAll twisted into one.If I sing, you listen;If I think, you know.I have a secret from everybody in the world full of peopleBut I cannot always remember how it goes;It is a... more...

THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN. A TALE OF THE TAURIDE. Mute sat Giray, with downcast eye,  As though some spell in sorrow bound him,His slavish courtiers thronging nigh,  In sad expectance stood around him.The lips of all had silence sealed,  Whilst, bent on him, each look observant,  Saw grief's deep trace and passion ferventUpon his gloomy brow revealed.  But the proud Khan his dark eye... more...

PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. HE success of the first edition of this little work, compels its author to say a few words on the issue of a second. "Expressive silence" would now be in him the excessive impudence of not acknowledging, as he respectfully does acknowledge, that success to be greatly ascribable to the eminent artists who have drawn and engraved the illustrations. "A man's... more...

Peter Pry’s Puppet ShowPart the SecondHere’s johnny Bull From England come,Who boasts of being a sailor,But yankey tars will let him know,He’ll meet with many a Failure.The Elephant upright and tallDress’d up in Eastern style SirHis efforts here to show himselfI think will make you smile SirHere’s Bruin next from Russia come,Dont let him you affright,Tho in his manner rather roughYou’ll... more...