Poetry Books

I. THE VENDER OF VIOLETS."Violets!Violets! Violets!"This was the cry I heardAs I passed through the street of a city;And quickly my heart was stirredTo an incomprehensible pity,At the undertone of the cry;For it seemed like the voice of oneWho was stricken, and all undone,Who was only longing to die."Violets! Violets! Violets!"The voice came nearer still."Surely," I said,... more...

INTRODUCTION The impersonal character of the Homeric poems has left us entirely in the dark as to the birthplace, the history, and the date, of their author. So complete is the darkness which surrounds the name of Homer that his very existence has been disputed, and his works have been declared to be an ingenious compilation, drawn from the productions of a multitude of singers. It is not my intention... more...

SPRING BLOSSOMS. Here, for the infant minds, fair spring,Blossoms of bright truth we bring,Seeds of virtue there to sow,Ere a single weed can grow. Here may you learn how sweet the bliss,To worship nature’s loveliness,Escaping through her flow’ry charm,Each thought or wish to do a harm. For when the tender buds of truth,Expand within the minds of youth,They cast a bloom around the heartThat will... more...

[p 3] MUCKROSStnight there came unto MacCarthy MoreA hooded vision with a voice that said,“Go thou straightway and raise a house to GodUpon the spot where stands the Rock of Song!”So with the golden lifting of the dawnUpsprang the chieftain and loud called his kerns,And bade them seek the Rock. For many a dayThey roved the sweeping meads and fens and fellsIn fruitless search, and ever forth... more...

The Hill   Where are Elmer, Herman, Bert, Tom and Charley,  The weak of will, the strong of arm, the clown, the boozer, the fighter?  All, all are sleeping on the hill.   One passed in a fever,  One was burned in a mine,  One was killed in a brawl,  One died in a jail,  One fell from a bridge toiling for children and wife—  All, all are sleeping, sleeping, sleeping on the hill.... more...

Prologue As of old Phoenician men, to the Tin Isles sailingStraight against the sunset and the edges of the earth,Chaunted loud above the storm and the strange sea's wailing,Legends of their people and the land that gave them birth—Sang aloud to Baal-Peor, sang unto the horned maiden,Sang how they should come again with the Brethon treasure laden,Sang of all the pride and glory of their hardy... more...

INTRODUCTION I. THE AGE WHICH PRODUCED THE FAERIE QUEENE The study of the Faerie Queene should be preceded by a review of the great age in which it was written. An intimate relation exists between the history of the English nation and the works of English authors. This close connection between purely external events and literary masterpieces is especially marked in a study of the Elizabethan Age. To... more...

PREFACE THIS volume is the first compilation of the recent experiments in Spectra. It is the aim of the Spectric group to push the possibilities of poetic expression into a new region,—to attain a fresh brilliance of impression by a method not so wholly different from the methods of Futurist Painting. An explanation of the term "Spectric" will indicate something of the nature of the technique... more...

HOPE AND FEARBeneath the shadow of dawn's aerial cope,With eyes enkindled as the sun's own sphere,Hope from the front of youth in godlike cheerLooks Godward, past the shades where blind men gropeRound the dark door that prayers nor dreams can ope,And makes for joy the very darkness dearThat gives her wide wings play; nor dreams that fearAt noon may rise and pierce the heart of hope.Then, when... more...

The Spirit of William Shakespeare,sore vexed of them who say that in hisSonnets he writ not from the truth ofhis heart but from the toyings of hisbrain, and that he devised but a feignedobject to fit a feigned affection, hereinmaketh answer, renewing as best ashadow may that rhyme wherein hewas more excellent in theliving body I THE wise world saith I not unlock’d my heartWhen I of thee and thy dear... more...