Poetry Books

APPREHENSION AND all hours long, the town  Roars like a beast in a caveThat is wounded thereAnd like to drown;  While days rush, wave after waveOn its lair. An invisible woe unseals  The flood, so it passes beyondAll bounds: the great old cityRecumbent roars as it feels  The foamy paw of the pondReach from immensity. But all that it can do  Now, as the tide rises,Is to listen and hear the... more...

My Baby's Feet Within my palm, like roseleaves, dainty, sweet,I fold with tenderest love two little feet—Two little feet, twin flow'rets come to bringTo mother's heart the first sweet breath of spring.Wearied with play, at last they lie at rest,One satin sole against its fair mate pressed.Dear little feet, fain would this hand 'ere shieldThy tender flesh from thorns which lie... more...

INTRODUCTION Of the making of books by individual authors there is no end; but a cultivated literary taste among the exceptional few has rendered almost impossible the production of genuine folk-songs. The spectacle, therefore, of a homogeneous throng of partly civilized people dancing to the music of crude instruments and evolving out of dance-rhythm a lyrical or narrative utterance in poetic form is... more...

NAUGHTY PUPPIESTiny and his Parents.There were two little puppy dogs,“Tiny” named, and “Toodles,”Who got into all kinds of scrapes,Like little foolish noodles.Tiny was a brownish dog,And Toodles was a white one;And Tiny had a cunning eye,And Toodles had a bright one.Tiny played all kinds of tricks.For which his parents chid him:And Toodles did—poor, foolish pup—Whatever Tiny bid him.... more...

PREFACE. Those friends who have taken an interest in my literary productions may feel some surprise at my appearance in the character of a translator of Sanscrit poetry. To those, and indeed to all who may take up the present volume, I owe some explanation of my pretensions as a faithful interpreter of my original text. Those pretensions are very humble; and I can unfeignedly say, that if the field had... more...

Romance IWhen I go forth to greet the glad-faced Spring,Just at the time of opening apple-buds,When brooks are laughing, winds are whispering,On babbling hillsides or in warbling woods,There is an unseen presence that eludes:—Perhaps a Dryad, in whose tresses clingThe loamy odors of old solitudes,Who, from her beechen doorway, calls; and leadsMy soul to follow; now with dimpling wordsOf leaves; and... more...

RUFUS MERRILL.I love the flowers, the fragrant flowers!They’re fairy things to me;They seem like angels sent to bless,And teach of purity. MY FLOWER-POT.There is beauty in flowersWhen kissed by the showersThat fall in the bowersOf gardens so fair,When music is tellingIn notes that are swelling,And love is excelling,Aloft in the air.Birds now are singing,Deep valleys are ringing,And harmony... more...

MY FIRST ALPHABETA aB bArkBabyC cD dCatDogE eF fEarFanG gH hGateHouseI iK kInnKeyL lM mLoafManN nO oNutOwlP pQ qPanQueenR rS sRatSeaT tU uTartUrnV vW wVineWallY yZ zYewZebraOnce on a time there was a Little Old Woman who lived in a Shoe. This shoe stood near a great forest, and was so large that it served as a house for the Old Lady and all her children, of which she had so many that she did not know... more...

MY DOG TRAY.Twice every week a poor, thin man,Holding his little daughter’s hand,Walked feebly to a hospital,Close by the busy London Strand.He hoped the clever doctors thereIn time would make him strong and well,That he might go to work again,And live to care for little Nell.Beside wee Nell, her faithful friend,Good old dog Tray was always seen,Never a day apart the pairSince Nelly’s babyhood had... more...

INTRODUCTION. “A ray has pierced me from the highest heaven—I have believed in worth; and do believe.” So runs Mr. Woolner’s song, as it proceeds to show the issue of a noble earthly love, one with the heavenly.  Its issue is the life of high endeavour, wherein    “They who would be something moreThan they who feast, and laugh and die, will hearThe voice of Duty, as the note of... more...