Poetry Books

The Twelve-Forty-Five (For Edward J. Wheeler) Within the Jersey City shedThe engine coughs and shakes its head,The smoke, a plume of red and white,Waves madly in the face of night.And now the grave incurious starsGleam on the groaning hurrying cars.Against the kind and awful reignOf darkness, this our angry train,A noisy little rebel, poutsIts brief defiance, flames and shouts —And passes on, and... more...

MYSTERY OF CARMEL The Mission floor was with weeds o'ergrown,And crumbling and shaky its walls of stone;Its roof of tiles, in tiers and tiers,Had stood the storms of a hundred years.An olden, weird, medieval styleClung to the mouldering, gloomy pile,And the rhythmic voice of the breaking wavesSang a lonesome dirge in its land of graves.As I walked in the Mission old and gray—The Mission Carmel... more...

Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep,And cannot tell where to find ’em;Leave them alone, and they’ll come home,And bring their tails behind ’em. Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep,And dreamt she heard them bleating;When she awoke, she found it a joke,For still they all were fleeting. Then up she took her little crook,Determined for to find them;She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,For... more...

ADVERTISEMENT. My Booksellers inform’d me, lately, that several inquiries had been made for ,—but that every copy had been sold;—they had been out of print these two years.—“Then publish them again,” said I, boldly,—(I print at my own risk)—and with an air of triumph. Messrs. Cadell and Davies advise’d me to make additions.—“The is, really, too short,” said Messrs. Cadell and... more...

Just Folks We're queer folks here.We'll talk about the weather,The good times we have had together,The good times near,The roses buddin', an' the beesOnce more upon their nectar sprees;The scarlet fever scare, an' whoCame mighty near not pullin' through,An' who had light attacks, an' allThe things that int'rest, big or small;But here you'll never hear... more...

I I thought once how Theocritus had sungOf the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,Who each one in a gracious hand appearsTo bear a gift for mortals, old or young:And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,Those of my own life, who by turns had flungA shadow across me.  Straightway I was ’ware,So weeping, how a... more...

“Arms and the man” was Virgil’s strain; But we propose in lighter vein To browse a crop from pastures (Green’s) Of England’s Evolution scenes. Who would from facts prognosticate The future progress of this State, Must own the chiefest fact to be Her escalator is the Sea.   HISTORIANS erudite and sage, When writing of the past stone age, Tell us man once was clothed in skins And tattooed... more...

BOOK I. Achilles sing, O Goddess! Peleus' son;His wrath pernicious, who ten thousand woesCaused to Achaia's host, sent many a soulIllustrious into Ades premature,And Heroes gave (so stood the will of Jove)5To dogs and to all ravening fowls a prey,When fierce dispute had separated onceThe noble Chief Achilles from the sonOf Atreus, Agamemnon, King of men. Who them to strife impell'd? What... more...

THE DEFEAT OF YOUTH I. UNDER THE TREES. here had been phantoms, pale-remembered shapesOf this and this occasion, sisterlyIn their resemblances, each effigyCrowned with the same bright hair above the nape'sWhite rounded firmness, and each body alertWith such swift loveliness, that very restSeemed a poised movement: ... phantoms that impressedBut a faint influence and could bless or hurtNo more than... more...

PROEM And the Angel said:"What hast thou for all thy travail—what dost thou bring with thee outof the dust of the world?" And the man answered:"Behold, I bring one perfect yesterday!" And the Angel questioned:"Hast thou then no to-morrow?Hast thou no hope?" And the man replied:"Who am I that I should hope!Out of all my life I have been granted onesheaf of memory." And... more...