Poetry Books

DAISY. This little Daisy we all love,Because it seems to say,“I’m come to tell good girls and boys,That Winter’s gone away.” There is another flower, too,I dearly love to see;The little Snowdrop, peeping throughThe frozen ground at me. PRIMROSE. This is a pretty Primrose,In shady lanes it grows;And early in the pleasant spring,In gardens too it blows. Here is a formal Daffodil,Though common,... more...

INTRODUCTION The Kalevala, or the Land of Heroes, as the word may be freely rendered, is the national epic of Finland, and as that country and its literature are still comparatively little known to English readers, some preliminary explanations are here necessary. On reference to a map of Europe, it will be seen that the north-western portion of the Russian Empire forms almost a peninsula, surrounded,... more...

FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS FIFTY YEARSO brothers mine, to-day we standWhere half a century sweeps our ken,Since God, through Lincoln's ready hand,Struck off our bonds and made us men.Just fifty years—a winter's day—As runs the history of a race;Yet, as we look back o'er the way,How distant seems our starting place!Look farther back! Three centuries!To where a naked, shivering... more...

Preface Robert Burns was born near Ayr, Scotland, 25th of January, 1759. He was the son of William Burnes, or Burness, at the time of the poet's birth a nurseryman on the banks of the Doon in Ayrshire. His father, though always extremely poor, attempted to give his children a fair education, and Robert, who was the eldest, went to school for three years in a neighboring village, and later, for... more...

PROEM "SO LET THEM PASS, THESE SONGS OF MINE"   So let them pass, these songs of mine,  Into oblivion, nor repine;  Abandoned ruins of large schemes,  Dimmed lights adrift from nobler dreams,   Weak wings I sped on quests divine,  So let them pass, these songs of mine.  They soar, or sink ephemeral—  I care not greatly which befall!   For if no song I e'er had... 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...

JACK and JILL,Went up the hill,To fetch a pail of water,Jack fell down,And broke his crown,And Jill came tumbling after.Then up JACK got,And home did trot,As fast as he could caper;DAME GILL did the job,To plaster his nob,With Vinegar and brown paper.Then JILL came in,And she did grin,To see JACK’S paper plaster,Her mother put her,A fools cap on,For laughing at Jack’s disaster.This made JILL... more...

INTRODUCTION Scepticism is as much the result of knowledge, as knowledge is of scepticism. To be content with what we at present know, is, for the most part, to shut our ears against conviction; since, from the very gradual character of our education, we must continually forget, and emancipate ourselves from, knowledge previously acquired; we must set aside old notions and embrace fresh ones; and, as... more...

TO EMELINE.   would enshrine in silvern songThe charm that bore our souls along,As in the sun-flushed days of summerWe felt the pulsings of nature's throng; When flecks of foam of flying spraySmote white the red sun's torrid ray,Or wimpling fogs toyed with the mountain,Aërial spirits of dew at play; When hovering stars, poised in the blue,Came down and ever closer drew;Or, in the autumn air... more...

FROM THE PENTLANDS LOOKING NORTH AND SOUTH Around my feet the clouds are drawnIn the cold mystery of the dawn;No breezes cheer, no guests intrudeMy mossy, mist-clad solitude;When sudden down the steeps of skyFlames a long, lightening wind. On highThe steel-blue arch shines clear, and far,In the low lands where cattle are,Towns smoke. And swift, a haze, a gleam,—The Firth lies like a frozen... more...