Poetry Books

ANCIENT BANNER.In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,The bosom of his Father, and assumedA servant's form, though he had reigned a king,In realms of glory, ere the worlds were made,Or the creating words, "Let there be light"In heaven were uttered. But though veiled in flesh,His Deity and his Omnipotence,Were manifest in miracles. DiseaseFled at his bidding, and the buried deadRose from the... more...

HE following little illustrated effusion is offered to the public, in the hope that it may not prove altogether uninteresting, or entirely inappropriate to the times. The famous pre-historic story of Ulysses and Polyphemus has received its counterpart in the case of two well-known personages of our own age and country. Ulysses of old contrived, with a burning stake, to put out the glaring eye of... more...

THEAFFECTIONATE SHEPHEARD. THE TEARES OF AN AFFECTIONATE SHEPHEARD SICKE FOR LOVE,OR THE COMPLAINT OF DAPHNIS FOR THELOVE OF GANIMEDE.Scarce had the morning starre hid from the lightHeavens crimson canopie with stars bespangled,But I began to rue th' unhappy sightOf that faire boy that had my hart intangled;Cursing the time, the place, the sense, the sin;I came, I saw, I viewd, I slipped in.If it... more...

BOOK FIRST THE COMING OF AENEAS TO CARTHAGE I sing of arms and the man who of old from the coasts of Troy came, an exile of fate, to Italy and the shore of Lavinium; hard driven on land and on the deep by the violence of heaven, for cruel Juno's unforgetful anger, and hard bestead in war also, ere he might found a city and carry his gods into Latium; from whom is the Latin race, the lords of Alba,... more...

BOOK I Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc'd by fate,And haughty Juno's unrelenting hate,Expell'd and exil'd, left the Trojan shore.Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore,And in the doubtful war, before he wonThe Latian realm, and built the destin'd town;His banish'd gods restor'd to rites divine,And settled sure succession in his line,From whence the race of... more...

There was a little woman,As I have heard tell,She went to market,Her Eggs for to sell.She went to Market,All on a Market day,And she fell asleep,On the King’s highway.By came a Pedlar,His name it was Stout,And he cut her petticoats,All round about.He cut her PetticoatsUp to her knees,Which made the little womanBegan for to freeze.When this little woman,Began to awake,She began to shiver,And she began... 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...

THERE was once a little Brownie, who lived—where do you think he lived? in a coal-cellar.Now a coal-cellar may seem a most curious place to choose to live in; but then a Brownie is a curious creature—a fairy, and yet not one of that sort of fairies who fly about on gossamer wings, and dance in the moonlight, and so on. He never dances; and as to wings, what use would they be to him in a coal-cellar?... more...

'Twas on a frosty Christmas Eve When Peggy Deutchland woke From her wooden sleep On the counter steep And to her neighbour spoke, "Get up! get up, dear Sarah Jane! Now strikes the midnight hour, When dolls and toys Taste human joys, And revel in their power.     I long to try my limbs a bit, And you must walk with me; Our joints are good Though made of wood, And I pine for liberty. For... more...

CHAPTER I. Before I commence mi short history o’ Haworth Railway, it might be as weel to say a word or two abaat Haworth itseln.  It’s a city at’s little nawn, if onny, in th’ history o’ Ingland, tho thare’s no daat but it’s as oud as Methuslam, if net ouder, yet wi’ being built so far aat o’ th’ latitude o’ civilised nashuns, nobody’s scarcely nawn owt abaat it wal lately. ... more...