Poetry Books

1 STRAY birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh. O TROUPE of little vagrants of the world, leave your footprints in my words. 3 THE world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover. It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal. IT is the tears of the earth that keep her smiles in bloom. 5... more...

UP AND DOWN   Down the Hill of Ludgate,     Up the Hill of Fleet,  To and fro and East and West     With people flows the street;  Even the King of England     On Temple Bar must beat  For leave to ride to Ludgate     Down the Hill of Fleet. MRS. EARTH   Mrs. Earth makes silver black,     Mrs. Earth makes iron red  But Mrs. Earth can not stain gold,     Nor... more...

AT THE SEASIDEWhen I was down beside the seaA wooden spade they gave to meTo dig the sandy shore.My holes were empty like a cup,In every hole the sea came up,Till it could come no more. IVAll night long and every night,When my mamma puts out the light,I see the people marching by,As plain as day, before my eye.Armies and emperors and kings,All carrying different kinds of things,And marching in so grand... more...

ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY.This is the month, and this the happy morn,Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King,Of wedded maid and virgin mother born,Our great redemption from above did bring;For so the holy sages once did sing,That he our deadly forfeit should release,And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.That glorious form, that light insufferable,And that far-beaming blaze... more...

TO THE LITTLE COUSINS ANNIE, KITTY, AND CORDELIA I dedicate this book to you, my dearest dears, with more love than I have ink to write out, and more good wishes and fond hopes than any printer would care to print. You will see by these stories that the children of different countries are pretty much alike. I doubt not, if you were in France now, you would get along nicely with the little Monsieurs and... more...

I Because I believe that many do not understand the verse ofLichtenstein, do not correctly understand, do not clearly understand— II The first eighty poems are lyric. In the usual sense. They are not much different from poetry that praises gardens. The content is the distress of love, death, universal longing. The impulse to formulate them in the "cynical" vein (like cabaret songs) may, for... more...

P. DUJARDINHere foloweth the Interpretacoin of the namesof goddes and goddesses as is rehercedin this tretyse folowynge as Poetes wryte¶ Phebus is as moche to saye as the Sonne.¶ Apollo is the same or elles God of syght.¶ MorpleusShewer of dremis¶ PlutoGod of hell.¶ MynosIuge of hell.¶ CerberusPorter of hell.¶ Colus the wynde or God of the Eyre.¶ Dyana Goddesse of wode and chase.¶ Phebe the... more...

PART I PUPPYHOOD "What other nature yours than of a child Whose dumbness finds a voice mighty to call, In wordless pity, to the souls of all, Whose lives I turn to profit, and whose mute And constant friendship links the man and brute?" Still half in dream, upon the stair I hearA patter coming nearer and more near,And then upon my chamber doorA gentle tapping,For dogs, though proud, are... more...

INTRODUCTION The impersonal character of the Homeric poems has left us entirely in the dark as to the birthplace, the history, and the date, of their author. So complete is the darkness which surrounds the name of Homer that his very existence has been disputed, and his works have been declared to be an ingenious compilation, drawn from the productions of a multitude of singers. It is not my intention... more...

PREFACE This little book was written by four friends, three of them under-graduates at Oxford, and all of them penetrated with the spirit of the higher culture of our time. The poems, it is clear, have been carefully selected; and, it is probable, have been diligently polished. There is not one which is not remarkable for delicacy of style and conscious aiming after excellence in art. Whether these... more...