Poetry Books

John Gilpin was a citizenOf credit and renown,A train-band captain eke was heOf famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,Though wedded we have beenThese twice ten tedious years, yet weNo holiday have seen. To-morrow is our wedding-day,And we will then repairUnto the Bell at Edmonton,All in a chaise and pair. My sister and my sister's child,Myself and children three,Will fill... more...

WHO'S THERE?Nowell, nowell, nowell, nowell,Who ys there that syngith so, nowell, nowell, nowell?I am here, syre Christmasse!Well come, my lord syre Christmasse,Welcome to us all, bothe more and lesse,Come nere, nowell!Dieu vous garde, beau syre, tydinges you bryng:A mayd hath born a chylde full yong,The weche causeth yew for to syng,Nowell!Criste is now born of a pure mayde,In an oxe stalle he ys... more...

INTRODUCTION When a poem is read aloud it is easy to realize that poetry is closely related to music. Like music it awakens vague, mysterious feelings which cannot be expressed in ordinary speech; and the person who fails to catch the subtle melody of a poem gets but little from it even though he understands perfectly the meaning of the words. To illustrate this, put into commonplace prose a passage of... more...

TO THE READER. Though cooks are often men of pregnant wit,Through niceness of their subject few have writ.’Tis a sage question, if the art of cooksIs lodg’d by nature or attain’d by books?That man will never frame a noble treat,Whose whole dependence lies in some receipt.Then by pure nature everything is spoil’d,—She knows no more than stew’d, bak’d, roast, and boil’d.When art and... more...

PART THE FIRST. It is an ancient Mariner,And he stoppeth one of three."By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? "The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,And I am next of kin;The guests are met, the feast is set:May'st hear the merry din." He holds him with his skinny hand,"There was a ship," quoth he."Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard... more...

Song the First Sir Alf he is an Atheling,Both at Stevn and at Ting.    Know ye little Alf? Alf he builds a vessel stout,For he will rove and sail about. Alf he builds a vessel high,The trade of pirate he will try. He draws on the sand a circle mark,And with a bound he gained the bark. Upon the prow Alf foremost stood,And Copenhagen’s koggers view’d. O’er the wide sea he flung a look,He knew the... more...

Walter Scott was born in Edinburgh, August 15, 1771, of an ancient Scotch clan numbering in its time many a hard rider and good fighter, and more than one of these petty chieftains, half-shepherd and half-robber, who made good the winter inroads into their stock of beeves by spring forays and cattle drives across the English Border. Scott's great-grandfather was the famous "Beardie" of... more...

PRINCESS BELLE-ETOILE. Once upon a time there were three Princesses, named Roussette, Brunette, and Blondine, who lived in retirement with their mother, a Princess who had lost all her former grandeur. One day an old woman called and asked for a dinner, as this Princess was an excellent cook. After the meal was over, the old woman, who was a fairy, promised that their kindness should be rewarded, and... more...

Where Bobby lives there is a hill—A hill so steep and high,'Twould fill the bill for Jack and JillTheir famous act to try Once Bobby's Go-cart broke awayAnd down this hill it kited.The careless Nurse screamed in dismayBut Bobby was delighted He clapped his hands, in manner rude,And laughed in high elation—While, close behind, the Nurse pursuedIn hopeless consternation An Officer slid off... more...

A Dream.I stood far off above the haunts of menSomewhere, I know not, when the sky was dimFrom some worn glory, and the morning hymnOf the gay oriole echoed from the glen.Wandering, I felt earth's peace, nor knew I soughtA visioned face, a voice the wind had caught.I passed the waking things that stirred and gazed,Thought-bound, and heeded not; the waking flowersDrank in the morning mist,... more...