Poetry Books

ABRAHAM LINCOLN: Born, Feb. 12th, 1809. Assassinated, Good-Friday, April 14th, 1865. "Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!Most sacrilegious murder hath broke opeThe Lord's anointed temple, and stole thenceThe life o' the building. * * * * * * * * * * "Approach the chamber, and destroy your sightWith a new Gorgon:—Do not bid me speak;See, and then speak yourselves.—Awake!... more...

DEDICATORY POEM.   Dear Carrie, were we truly wise,  And could discern with finer eyes,    And half-inspired sense,    The ways of Providence:   Could we but know the hidden things  That brood beneath the Future's wings,    Hermetically sealed,    But soon to be revealed:   Would we, more blest than we are now,  In due submission learn to bow,—    Receiving on our... more...

THE AFTER-ECHO How long the echoes love to play  Around the shore of silence, as a wave  Retreating circles down the sand!  One after one, with sweet delay,The mellow sounds that cliff and island gave,  Have lingered in the crescent bay,  Until, by lightest breezes fanned,They float far off beyond the dying day      And leave it still as death.        But... more...

AFTER ALL, WHAT IS POETRY? BY JOHN RAYMOND HOWARD. Considering the immense volume of poetical writing produced, and lost or accumulated, by all nations through the ages, it is of curious interest that no generally accepted definition of the word "Poetry" has ever been made. Of course, all versifiers aim at "poetry"; yet, what is poetry? Many definitions have been attempted. Some of... more...

OLD MOTHER HUBBARD AND HER DOG.Old Mother HubbardWent to the cupboard,To give her poor Dog a bone,When she came thereThe cupboard was bare,And so the poor Dog had none. JOHN McLOUGHLIN, Publisher, N. Y.     She went to the Tavern,For white wine and red,When she came backThe Dog stood on his head.She brought him a cakeWhich she bought at the Fair,When she came backThe Dog sat in a chair.     She... more...

INTRODUCTION. Augustine defines a hymn as “praise to God with song,” and another writer calls hymn-singing “a devotional approach to God in our emotions,”—which of course applies to both the words and the music. This religious emotion, reverently acknowledging the Divine Being in song, is a constant element, and wherever felt it makes the song a worship, irrespective of sect or creed. An... more...

Amos and Ann had a poem to learn,A poem to learn one day;But alas! they sighed, and alack! they cried,’Twere better to go and play.Ann was sure ’twas a waste of timeTo bother a child with jingling rhyme.Amos said, “What’s the sense in rhythm—Feet and lines?” He had finished with ’em! They peered at the poem with scowly faces,And yawned and stumbled and lost their places.Then—a breeze... more...

AN OLD HEART How young I am!  Ah! heaven, this curse of youth   Doth mock me from my mirror with great eyes,And pulsing veins repeat the unwelcome truth,   That I must live, though hope within me dies. So young, and yet I have had all of life.   Why, men have lived to see a hundred years,Who have not known the rapture, joy, and strife   Of my brief youth, its passion and its tears. Oh! what... more...

HUSH-a-bye, baby, on the tree top,When the wind blows, the cradle will rock;When the bough bends, the cradle will fall.Down will come baby, cradle, and all. CURRAHOO, curr dhoo,Love me, and I'll love you![] WHEN the days begin to lengthenThe cold begins to strengthen. CANTALOUPES! Cantaloupes! What is the price?Eight for a dollar, and all very nice. PAT-A-CAKE, pat-a-cake, baker's man!Make me... more...

Medusa How did Medusa do her hair?The question fills me with despair.It must have caused her sore distressThat head of curling snakes to dress.Whenever after endless toilShe coaxed it finally to coil,The music of a Passing BandWould cause each separate hair to standOn end and sway and writhe and spit,—She couldn't "do a thing with it."And, being woman and awareOf such disaster to her... more...