Poetry Books

ENGLAND AND SERBIA. Delivered for the first time in the Chapter House of Canterbury Cathedral. Chairman: the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury. THE SIGN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. YOUR GRACE, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, To come to Canterbury, to visit this Sion of the Church of England, that has been my dream since my fourteenth year, when I for the first time was told of what a spiritual work and of what an... more...

THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN Listen I.Hamelin Town's in Brunswick,By famous Hanover city;The river Weser, deep and wide,Washes its wall on the southern side;A pleasanter spot you never spied;But, when begins my ditty,Almost five hundred years ago,To see the townsfolk suffer soFrom vermin, was a pity. ListenRats!They fought the dogs and killed the cats,And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the... more...

TO VALERIA.Broideriesand ancient stuffs that some queenWore; nor gems that warriors’ hilts encrusted;Nor fresh from heroes’ brows the laurels green;Nor bright sheaves by bards of eld entrustedTo earth’s great granaries—I bring not these.Only thin, scattered blades from harvests gleanedErewhile I plucked, may happen thee to please.So poor indeed, those others had demeanedThemselves to cull; or... more...

WHO'S THERE?Nowell, nowell, nowell, nowell,Who ys there that syngith so, nowell, nowell, nowell?I am here, syre Christmasse!Well come, my lord syre Christmasse,Welcome to us all, bothe more and lesse,Come nere, nowell!Dieu vous garde, beau syre, tydinges you bryng:A mayd hath born a chylde full yong,The weche causeth yew for to syng,Nowell!Criste is now born of a pure mayde,In an oxe stalle he ys... more...

ACROSS THE SEA. I.—CHILDHOOD. Ah! who can speak that country whence I fled?None but a lover may its beauty know,None but a poet can its rapture sing;And e'en his muse, upborne on Fancy's wing,Will grieve o'er beauties still unnoticed,O'er raptures language is too poor to show. Fore'er remains the land where children dwell,Earth's fairest mem'ry and its... more...

TORU DUTT. INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR. If Toru Dutt were alive, she would still be younger than any recognized European writer, and yet her fame, which is already considerable, has been entirely posthumous. Within the brief space of four years which now divides us from the date of her decease, her genius has been revealed to the world under many phases, and has been recognized throughout France and England.... more...

IN MEMORIAM: PAULINE JOHNSON I cannot say how deeply it touched me to learn that Pauline Johnson expressed a wish on her death-bed that I, living here in the mother country all these miles away, should write something about her. I was not altogether surprised, however, for her letters to me had long ago shed a golden light upon her peculiar character. She had made herself believe, quite erroneously,... more...

INTRODUCTION Upon being asked by a Reader whether the verses contained in this book were true.   And is it True? It is not True.And if it were it wouldn’t do,For people such as me and youWho pretty nearly all day longAre doing something rather wrong.Because if things were really so,You would have perished long ago,And I would not have lived to writeThe noble lines that meet your sight,Nor B. T. B.... more...

PART THE FIRST. It is an ancient Mariner,And he stoppeth one of three."By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? "The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,And I am next of kin;The guests are met, the feast is set:May'st hear the merry din." He holds him with his skinny hand,"There was a ship," quoth he."Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard... more...

Song the First Sir Alf he is an Atheling,Both at Stevn and at Ting.    Know ye little Alf? Alf he builds a vessel stout,For he will rove and sail about. Alf he builds a vessel high,The trade of pirate he will try. He draws on the sand a circle mark,And with a bound he gained the bark. Upon the prow Alf foremost stood,And Copenhagen’s koggers view’d. O’er the wide sea he flung a look,He knew the... more...