Poetry Books

JIM was a boy who was fond of clowns,And thought they were excellent fun;He talked so much of them and their ways,That one night he dreamed he was one. He dreamed he was feeding five fat geeseOn boiled slate-pencils and rice:He said it was wholesome food for geese,But they said, “More wholesome than nice.” HE dreamed that he set two geese to dance,While he took a fiddle and played.He said, “You... more...

A VISION.vision came! It was not in the hourOf sleep; but when the unresisted powerOf magic Fancy, threw, with full control,Her half prophetic mantle o’er the soul.The place was thron’d like Britain’s royal halls,And her proud navy deck’d the tap’stried walls.Statesmen and heroes grac’d the pictur’d scene;Fathers who were what since their sons have been;And some whose laurell’d brows... more...

THE SLEEP Of all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist’s music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this— ‘He giveth His beloved, sleep’! What would we give to our beloved? The hero’s heart to be unmoved, The poet’s star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot’s voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch’s crown, to light the... more...

Memories II   Places  Old Tunes  "Only in Sleep"  Redbirds  Sunset: St. Louis  The Coin  The Voice III   Day and Night  Compensation  I Remembered  "Oh You Are Coming"  The Return  Gray Eyes  The Net  The Mystery In a Hospital IV   Open Windows  The New Moon  Eight O'Clock  Lost Things  Pain  The Broken Field  The Unseen  A Prayer V... more...

CANTO I His glory, by whose might all things are mov'd,Pierces the universe, and in one partSheds more resplendence, elsewhere less.  In heav'n,That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,Witness of things, which to relate againSurpasseth power of him who comes from thence;For that, so near approaching its desireOur intellect is to such depth absorb'd,That memory cannot follow.... more...

Nuts Crazy as a cashew.Unbelievably lucky, I keep my job,live alone,lead a lucky life. Always the same old job,17 years of it. Go nowhere.Be nobody.Do nothing. Sheer luxury. They got to me. They drove meoff the deep end. But I’m luckywith my label,and my safe job. Shame I’m nuts.Blissful,lucky,shame. Mind Stew Boil, boil, andon it stews,the broth that cooks,on the stovethat is my mind. Ideas bob... more...

INTRODUCTION. Early in the present century John Harris—one of the successors to the business of "Honest John Newbery," now carried on by Messrs Griffith & Farran at the old corner of St. Paul's Churchyard—began the publication of a series of little books, which for many years were probably among the most famous of the productions of the House. Now, however, according to the fate... more...

CANTO XVIII THERE is a place within the depths of hellCall'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'dWith hue ferruginous, e'en as the steepThat round it circling winds.  Right in the midstOf that abominable region, yawnsA spacious gulf profound, whereof the frameDue time shall tell.  The circle, that remains,Throughout its round, between the gulf and baseOf the high craggy banks,... more...

TEASE I WILL give you all my keys,  You shall be my châtelaine,You shall enter as you please,  As you please shall go again. When I hear you jingling through  All the chambers of my soul,How I sit and laugh at you  In your vain housekeeping rôle. Jealous of the smallest cover,  Angry at the simplest door;Well, you anxious, inquisitive lover,  Are you pleased with what's in store? You... more...

OUR generation already is overpast,And thy lov'd legacy, Gerard, hath lainCoy in my home; as once thy heart was fainOf shelter, when God's terror held thee fastIn life's wild wood at Beauty and Sorrow aghast;Thy sainted sense tramme'd in ghostly pain,Thy rare ill-broker'd talent in disdain:Yet love of Christ will win man's love at last.  Hell wars without; but, dear, the... more...