Poetry Books

TO NEW YORKFor maid and lad New York is fairy land,Delightful charms in gorgeous brilliant lure!Our youth do struggle on ambition's tour.They meet life's challenge with true heart and hand.Forgotten trails are marked with scar and wand;A blasted rock and broken twigs assureThe traveler that others fought the moor,And sailed the stormy breakers, crossed the sandTo build the city on a granite... more...

PREFACE In March, 1914, a volume appeared entitled "Des Imagistes." It was a collection of the work of various young poets, presented together as a school. This school has been widely discussed by those interested in new movements in the arts, and has already become a household word. Differences of taste and judgment, however, have arisen among the contributors to that book; growing tendencies... more...

Some one like you makes the heart seem the lighter, Some one like you makes the day's work worth while, Some one like you makes the sun shine the brighter, Some one like you makes a sigh half a smile. Life's an odd pattern of briers and roses, Clouds sometimes darken, nor sun shining through, Then the cloud lifts and the sun light discloses Near to me, dear to me—Some one like you. Some one... more...

Buying and Selling   Throughout the day I sit behind the counter of my shop  And the odours of my country are all about me—  Areca nut, and betel leaf, and manioc,  Lychee and suey sen,  Li-un and dried seaweed,  Tchah and sam-shu;  And these carry my mind to half-forgotten days  When tales were plentiful and care was hard to hold.   All day I sell for trifling sums the wares of my... more...

TO EMELINE.   would enshrine in silvern songThe charm that bore our souls along,As in the sun-flushed days of summerWe felt the pulsings of nature's throng; When flecks of foam of flying spraySmote white the red sun's torrid ray,Or wimpling fogs toyed with the mountain,Aërial spirits of dew at play; When hovering stars, poised in the blue,Came down and ever closer drew;Or, in the autumn air... more...

INTRODUCTION "It is about impossible for a man to get rid of his Puritan grandfathers, and nobody who has ever had one has ever escaped his Puritan grandmother;" so said Eugene Field to me one sweet April day, when we talked together of the things of the spirit. It is one of his own confessions that he was fond of clergymen. Most preachers are supposed to be helplessly tied up with such a set... more...

BAYBERRY CANDLESDear sweet, when dusk comes up the hill,    The fire leaps high with golden prongs;I place along the chimneysill    The tiny candles of my songs. And though unsteadily they burn,    As evening shades from grey to blueLike candles they will surely learn    To shine more clear, for love of you. SECRET LAUGHTER"I had a secret... more...

SONGS OF DESIRE I'd like to be a gypsyWith gold rings in my ears,Along the road to sit and sing,And not do another thingFor years and years; A road to dream upon by day,A fire for dreams at night,Free to wander far away,Free to shout and free to play,Quite impolite. I'd pitch my tent beside a wall,All apple trees within,And if the apples didn't fall,I wouldn't hesitate at... more...

THE RECALL I am the land of their fathers.In me the virtue stays.I will bring back my children,After certain days. Under their feet in the grassesMy clinging magic runs.They shall return as strangers,They shall remain as sons. Over their heads in the branchesOf their new-bought, ancient trees,I weave an incantationAnd draw them to my knees. Scent of smoke in the evening.Smell of rain in the night,The... more...

GEORGE D. PRENTICE.'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence nowIs brooding, like a gentle spirit o'erThe still and pulseless world. Hark! on the windsThe bell's deep tones are swelling; 'tis the knellOf the departed year. No funeral trainIs sweeping past; yet, on the stream and wood,With melancholy light, the moonbeams restLike a pale, spotless shroud; the air is stirred,As by a... more...