Poetry Books

There was an Old Man with a nose,Who said, "If you choose to supposeThat my nose is too long, you are certainly wrong!"That remarkable Man with a nose. There was a Young Person of Smyrna,Whose Grandmother threatened to burn her;But she seized on the Cat, and said, "Granny, burn that!You incongruous Old Woman of Smyrna!" There was an Old Man on a hill,Who seldom, if ever, stood still;He... more...

  Oft tho' thy genius, D——! amply fraughtWith native wealth, explore new worlds of mind;Whence the bright ores of drossless wisdom brought,Stampt by the Muse's hand, enrich mankind;   Tho' willing Nature to thy curious eye,Involved in night, her mazy depths betray;Till at their source thy piercing search descryThe streams, that bathe with Life our mortal clay;   Tho',... more...

BOOK I THE CROSSING OF THE RUBICON Wars worse than civil on Emathian (1) plains,And crime let loose we sing; how Rome's high racePlunged in her vitals her victorious sword;Armies akin embattled, with the forceOf all the shaken earth bent on the fray;And burst asunder, to the common guilt,A kingdom's compact; eagle with eagle met,Standard to standard, spear opposed to spear. Whence, citizens,... more...

CANTO XIX It was the hour, when of diurnal heatNo reliques chafe the cold beams of the moon,O'erpower'd by earth, or planetary swayOf Saturn; and the geomancer seesHis Greater Fortune up the east ascend,Where gray dawn checkers first the shadowy cone;When 'fore me in my dream a woman's shapeThere came, with lips that stammer'd, eyes aslant,Distorted feet, hands maim'd, and... more...

SLEIGHING SONG.Hurrah! Hurrah! for the jolly snow!Over it we lightly go:Dear sister is so glad, you see,To have a nice drive in the sleigh with me,To have a nice drive in the sleigh with me—Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!Hurrah! Hurrah for the ice and cold!Both very young and gay and bold,We fear no snow, we fear no ice,There's naught in the world that is half so nice,There's naught in the world... more...

INTRODUCTION In an address to the American Society for Eighteenth Century Studies at the 1983 annual meeting, Roger Lonsdale suggested that our knowledge of eighteenth-century poetry has depended heavily on what our anthologies have decided to print. For the most part modern anthologies have, in turn, drawn on collections put together at the end of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the next,... more...

PROEM.    ‘Many speak wisely, some inerrably:Witness the beast who talk’d that should have bray’d,And Caiaphas that saidExpedient ’twas for all that One should die;But what availsWhen Love’s right accent from their wisdom fails,And the Truth-criers know not what they cry!Say, wherefore thou,As under bondage of some bitter vow,Warblest no word,When all the rest are shouting to be heard?Why... more...

VENUS AND ADONIS EVEN as the sun with purple-colour'd faceHad ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,Rose-cheek'd Adonis tried him to the chase;Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn; 4Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,And like a bold-fac'd suitor 'gins to woo him. 'Thrice fairer than myself,' thus she began,'The field's chief... more...

In these days when the old civilisation is crumbling beneath our feet, the thought of poetry crosses the mind like the dear memory of things that have long since passed away. In our passionate desire for the new era, it is difficult to refrain oneself from the commonplace practice of speculating on the effects of warfare and of prophesying all manner of novel rebirths. But it may be well for us to... more...

HIS DREAM I swayed upon the gaudy stern The butt end of a steering oar, And everywhere that I could turn Men ran upon the shore. And though I would have hushed the crowd There was no mother’s son but said, “What is the figure in a shroud Upon a gaudy bed?” And fishes bubbling to the brim Cried out upon that thing beneath, It had such dignity of limb, By the sweet name of Death. Though I’d my... more...