Poetry Books

A Frog he would a-wooing go,Whether his mother would let him or no.Off he set with his opera-hat.On the road he met with a Rat."Pray, Mr. Rat, will you go with me,Kind Mrs. Mousey for to see?"They soon arrived at Mousey's hall.They gave a loud tap, and they gave a loud call."Pray, Mrs. Mouse, are you within?""Yes, kind sirs, and sitting to spin.""Pray, Mrs. Mouse, now... more...

Darkly you sweep on, Eternal Fugitive, round whose bodiless rush stagnant space frets into eddying bubbles of light. Is your heart lost to the Lover calling you across his immeasurable loneliness? Is the aching urgency of your haste the sole reason why your tangled tresses break into stormy riot and pearls of fire roll along your path as from a broken necklace? Your fleeting steps kiss the dust of this... more...

SERVANT. Have mercy upon your servant, my queen! QUEEN. The assembly is over and my servants are all gone. Whydo you come at this late hour? SERVANT. When you have finished with others, that is my time.I come to ask what remains for your last servant to do. QUEEN. What can you expect when it is too late? SERVANT. Make me the gardener of your flower garden. QUEEN. What folly is this? SERVANT. I will... more...

GEORGIC I What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what starMaecenas, it is meet to turn the sodOr marry elm with vine; how tend the steer;What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proofOf patient trial serves for thrifty bees;-Such are my themes.O universal lightsMost glorious! ye that lead the gliding yearAlong the sky, Liber and Ceres mild,If by your bounty holpen earth once changedChaonian acorn for... more...

THE GHETTO I   Cool, inaccessible air  Is floating in velvety blackness shot with steel-blue lights,  But no breath stirs the heat  Leaning its ponderous bulk upon the Ghetto  And most on Hester street…   The heat…  Nosing in the body's overflow,  Like a beast pressing its great steaming belly close,  Covering all avenues of air…   The heat in Hester street,  Heaped... more...

A VISION.vision came! It was not in the hourOf sleep; but when the unresisted powerOf magic Fancy, threw, with full control,Her half prophetic mantle o’er the soul.The place was thron’d like Britain’s royal halls,And her proud navy deck’d the tap’stried walls.Statesmen and heroes grac’d the pictur’d scene;Fathers who were what since their sons have been;And some whose laurell’d brows... more...

I. THE GLUG QUEST Follow the river and cross the ford,Follow again to the wobbly bridge,Turn to the left at the notice board,Climbing the cow-track over the ridge;Tip-toe soft by the little red house,Hold your breath if they touch the latch,Creep to the slip-rails, still as a mouse,Then . . . run like mad for the bracken patch. Worm your way where the fern fronds tallFashion a lace-work over your... more...

upon a time I visited Fairy-land and spent a day in Goblin-town. The people there are much like ourselves, only they are very, very small and roguish. They play pranks on one another and have great fun. They are good natured and jolly, and rarely get angry. But if one does get angry, he quickly recovers his good nature and joins again in the sport. If a Goblin should continue angry he would take on some... more...

INTRODUCTION It is at my persuasion that these poems are now published. The earliest of them were read to me in London in 1896, when the writer was seventeen; the later ones were sent to me from India in 1904, when she was twenty-five; and they belong, I think, almost wholly to those two periods. As they seemed to me to have an individual beauty of their own, I thought they ought to be published. The... more...

POET LAUREATE. This book in its progress has recalled often to my memory a man with whose friendship we were once honoured, to whom no region of English literature was unfamiliar, and who, whilst rich in all the noble gifts of nature, was most eminently distinguished by the noblest and the rarest,—just judgment and high-hearted patriotism. It would have been hence a peculiar pleasure and pride to... more...