Poetry Books

The Lord is my rockand my fortress. 2 Sam. XXII 2. Rock of ages cleft for me,Let me hide myself in Thee; Let the water and blood,From thy riven side which flow'd, Be of sin the double cure,Cleanse me from its guilt and power. Not the labors of my handsCan fulfil Thy laws demands; Could my zeal no respite know,Could my tears for ever flow, All for sin could not atone,Thou must save, and Thou alone,... more...

STANDING IN LINEWhen I applied for Plattsburg I stood for hours in lineTo get a piece of paper which they said I had to sign;When I had signed I stood in line (and my, that line was slow!)And asked them what to do with it; they said they didn't know. And when I came to Plattsburg I had to stand in line,To get a Requisition, from five o'clock till nine;I stood in line till night for the... more...

“Let us buy,”Said Sally Fry,“Something nice,”Said Betsy Price,“What shall it be,”Said Kitty Lee,“A nice plum cake,”Said Lucy Wake. Which will you have, the doll, or Noah’s Ark? said mother to Mary one day. The doll, if you please, I think I will take, for then I can prettily play. One day John said, as he made his bow,“Mamma, are you at leisure now?Tell me, for much I wish to... more...

Old Ragnor's Cliffs. Like some horrific Gorgon's mammoth skull,Thrown up by Titan spade,From out those cavesWhere saurians with mastodons had played,Before the sea had made their homes their graves,And scared their ghosts with screech of sea-born mew and gull, Is Ragnor's beetling brow, the seaman's dread,That scowls by night and dayOn that same seaAnd with earth-shaking sound is... more...

TO E. FITZGERALD. Old Fitz, who from your suburb grangeWhere once I tarried for a while,Glance at the wheeling Orb of changeAnd greet it with a kindly smile;Whom yet I see, as there you sitBeneath your sheltering garden tree,And watch your doves about you flitAnd plant on shoulder, hand and knee,Or on your head their rosy feet,As if they knew your diet sparesWhatever moved in that full sheetLet down to... more...

Difficulties—Consent. 'Night will come on; when seated snug,'And you've perhaps begun some tale,'Can you then leave your dear stone mug;'Leave all the folks, and all the Ale?' 'Ay, Kate, I wool;—because I know,'Though time has been we both could run,'Such days are gone and over now;—'I only mean to see the fun.' She straight slipp'd off... more...

THE SONG OF THE KAZAK Kazak speeds ever toward the North,    Kazak has never heart for rest,Not on the field, nor in the wood,  Nor when in face of danger pressedHis steed the raging stream must breast! Kazak speeds ever toward the North,With him a mighty power brings,To win the honour of his land  Kazak his life unheeding flings—Till fame of him eternal sings! Kazak brought all SiberiaAt... more...

THE BATTLE OF THE PONS TRIUM TROJANORUM: A lay sung in the Temple of Minerva Girtanensis. [NOTE.—On Thursday, February 24th, 1881, three Graces were submitted to the Senate of the University of Cambridge, confirming the Report of The Syndicate appointed June 3rd, 1880, to consider four memorials relating to the Higher Education of Women. The first two Graces were passed by majorities of 398 and 258... more...

Song of the Pen Not for the love of women toil we, we of the craft,Not for the people's praise;Only because our goddess made us her own and laughed,Claiming us all our days, Claiming our best endeavour—body and heart and brainGiven with no reserve—Niggard is she towards us, granting us little gain;Still, we are proud to serve. Not unto us is given choice of the tasks we try,Gathering grain or... more...

SYMBOLISMTongueless the bell!Lute without a song!It is not nightIt is God's dawn,Silence its unending song.Over heart's valley,In the soul's night,Through pain's windowBehold! His light!On Life's Height.No prayer, now,Though death-waves roll,Faith's candle lit,Beside it sits the soulReading Eternity's scroll. SOURCE OF SINGINGA bruised heart,A wounded soul,A broken... more...