Poetry Books

ABRAHAM LINCOLN: Born, Feb. 12th, 1809. Assassinated, Good-Friday, April 14th, 1865. "Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!Most sacrilegious murder hath broke opeThe Lord's anointed temple, and stole thenceThe life o' the building. * * * * * * * * * * "Approach the chamber, and destroy your sightWith a new Gorgon:—Do not bid me speak;See, and then speak yourselves.—Awake!... more...

Gerontion Thou hast nor youth nor ageBut as it were an after dinner sleepDreaming of both. Here I am, an old man in a dry month,Being read to by a boy, waiting for rain.I was neither at the hot gatesNor fought in the warm rainNor knee deep in the salt marsh, heaving a cutlass,Bitten by flies, fought.My house is a decayed house,And the jew squats on the window sill, the owner,Spawned in some estaminet... more...

LAMENT I Come, Heraclitus and Simonides,Come with your weeping and sad elegies:Ye griefs and sorrows, come from all the landsWherein ye sigh and wail and wring your hands:Gather ye here within my house todayAnd help me mourn my sweet, whom in her MayUngodly Death hath ta'en to his estate,Leaving me on a sudden desolate.'Tis so a serpent glides on some shy nestAnd, of the tiny nightingales... more...

Though flattered by imitators galore Miss Potter's work stands supreme. Her many picture stories should be among the first books owned by children. Cecily Parsley lived in a pen,And brewed good ale for gentlemen; Gentlemen came every day,Till Cecily Parsley ran away. Goosey, goosey, gander,Whither will you wander?Upstairs and downstairs,And in my lady's chamber! This pig went to market;This... more...

PROEM Lo, thus, as prostrate, "In the dust I writeMy heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears."Yet why evoke the spectres of black nightTo blot the sunshine of exultant years?Why disinter dead faith from mouldering hidden? 5Why break the seals of mute despair unbidden,And wail life's discords into careless ears? Because a cold rage seizes one at whilesTo show the bitter old... more...

KALIDASA—HIS LIFE AND WRITINGS I Kalidasa probably lived in the fifth century of the Christian era. This date, approximate as it is, must yet be given with considerable hesitation, and is by no means certain. No truly biographical data are preserved about the author, who nevertheless enjoyed a great popularity during his life, and whom the Hindus have ever regarded as the greatest of Sanskrit poets.... more...

i.Othou refulgent essence of all grace!O thou that with the witchery of thy faceHast made of me thy servant unto death,I pray thee pause, ere, musical of breath,And rapt of utterance, thou condemn indeedMy venturous wooing, and the wanton speedWith which I greet thee, dear and tender soul!From out the fullness of my passion-creed. ii. Iam so truly thine that nevermoreShall man be found, this side the... more...

RHYMES OF THE NURSERY. Writing on the subject of nursery rhymes more than half a century ago, the late Dr. Robert Chambers expressed regret because, as he said, "Nothing had of late been revolutionised so much as the nursery." But harking back on the period of his own childhood, he was able to say, with a feeling of satisfaction, that the young mind was then "cradled amidst the simplicities... more...

SERVANT. Have mercy upon your servant, my queen! QUEEN. The assembly is over and my servants are all gone. Whydo you come at this late hour? SERVANT. When you have finished with others, that is my time.I come to ask what remains for your last servant to do. QUEEN. What can you expect when it is too late? SERVANT. Make me the gardener of your flower garden. QUEEN. What folly is this? SERVANT. I will... more...

PART I. Marsk Stig he out of the country rode   To win him fame with his good bright sword;At home meantide the King will bide   In hope to lure his heart’s ador’d. The King sends word to the Marshal Stig   That he to the fields of war should fare;Himself will deign at home to remain   And take the charge of his Lady fair. In came the Marshal’s serving man,   And a kirtle of green that... more...