Poetry Books

LEGEND   Long ago Apollo called to Aristaeus, youngest      of the shepherds,    Saying, "I will make you keeper of my bees."  Golden were the hives, and golden was the honey;      golden, too, the music,    Where the honey-makers hummed among the trees.   Happy Aristaeus loitered in the garden, wandered      in the orchard,    Careless and contented,... more...

CHAPTER I Motives to the present work—Reception of the Author's first publication—Discipline of his taste at school—Effect of contemporary writers on youthful minds—Bowles's Sonnets—Comparison between the poets before and since Pope. It has been my lot to have had my name introduced both in conversation, and in print, more frequently than I find it easy to explain, whether I... more...

THE SEABOARD.Thesea is at ebb, and the sound of her utmost wordIs soft as the least wave’s lapse in a still small reach.From bay into bay, on quest of a goal deferred,From headland ever to headland and breach to breachWhere earth gives ear to the message that all days preachWith changes of gladness and sadness that cheer and chide,The lone way lures me along by a chance untriedThat haply, if hope... more...

Into My Own ONE of my wishes is that those dark trees,So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,But stretched away unto the edge of doom.I should not be withheld but that some dayInto their vastness I should steal away,Fearless of ever finding open land,Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.I do not see why I should e'er turn back,Or... more...

Rufus Gale speaks—1852 Yes,—in the Lincoln Militia,—in the war of eighteen-twelve; Many's the day I've had since then to dig and delve— But those are the years I remember as the brightest years of all, When we left the plow in the furrow to follow the bugle's call. Why, even our son Abner wanted to fight with the men! "Don't you go, d'ye hear, sir!"—I was... more...

I    [Bass drum beaten loudly.]  Booth led boldly with his big bass drum—  (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)  The Saints smiled gravely and they said: "He's come."  (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)  Walking lepers followed, rank on rank,  Lurching bravoes from the ditches dank,  Drabs from the alleyways and drug fiends pale—  Minds still... more...

INTRODUCTORY NOTE There are few modern poems of any country so perfect in their kind as the "Hermann and Dorothea" of Goethe. In clearness of characterization, in unity of tone, in the adjustment of background and foreground, in the conduct of the narrative, it conforms admirably to the strict canons of art; yet it preserves a freshness and spontaneity in its emotional appeal that are rare in... more...

SANGUINE "The clock indicates the hour but what does enternity indicate?"Whitman Imagine, being told cubism isn't painting. ThatBeardsley didn't die at 26, unheralded as a boy geniusor Corot didn't come to Paris after all. Imagine, The Louvre without a rooftop, theintelligentsia sitting down to a ragged tablesurrounded by sawdust intellects, Proust not beingable to write his... more...

JONGLEURS. What is the stir in the street?Hurry of feet!And after,A sound as of pipes and of tabers! Men of the conflicts and labors,Struggling and shifting and shoving,Pushing and pounding your neighbors,Fighting for leeway for laughter,Toiling for leisure for loving!Hark, through the window and up to the rafter,Madder and merrier,Deeper and verier,Sweeter, contrarier,Dafter and dafter,A song... more...

INTRODUCTION The eighteenth century was an age addicted to gossiping about its literary figures. This addiction was nowhere better demonstrated than by the countless reflections, sermons, poems, pamphlets, biographical sketches, and biographies about Samuel Johnson. The most productive phase of this activity commenced almost immediately after Johnson's death in December, 1784, and continued into... more...