Poetry Books

A LITTLE MOUSE THAT BUILTITSELF A HOUSE IN ACHRISTMAS CAKE. A PRETTY story I will tell, Of Nib, a little Mouse, Who took delight, when none where near, To skip about the house. Her little nose could sniff and smell Where all good things were kept, And in the pantry well she knew That mistress Pussy slept. But, notwithstanding, in she crept, And on the shelf she found A Christmas cake, the top of which... more...

Sail on, O Ship of State!Sail on, O Union, strong and great!Humanity with all its fears,With all the hopes of future years,Is hanging breathless on thy fate!We know what Master laid thy keel,What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,What anvils rang, what hammers beat,In what a forge and what a heatWere shaped the anchors of thy hope!Fear not each sudden sound and... more...

ALL THAT MATTERSWhen all that matters shall be written downAnd the long record of our years is told,Where sham, like flesh, must perish and grow cold;When the tomb closes on our fair renownAnd priest and layman, sage and motleyed clownMust quit the places which they dearly hold,What to our credit shall we find enscrolled?And what shall be the jewels of our crown?I fancy we shall hear to our... more...

Georgie and Maudie came home from school,And each had got a prize;They had worked very hard, and tried to be good,For they wanted to grow up wise.And now behold them jumping for joy,And clapping their hands with glee,Because Mamma has promised them--They shall stay for a month by the sea.   So Nurse was told to pack their things,And put their toys together;Whilst Mamma went out and bought new... more...

Wedlock, oh! Curs'd uncomfortable State,Cause of my Woes, and Object of my hate.How bless'd was I? Ah, once how happy me?When I from those uneasie Bonds were free;How calm my Joys? How peaceful was my Breast,Till with thy fatal Cares too soon opprest,The World seem'd Paradice, so bless'd the SoilWherein I liv'd, that Business was no Toil;Life was a Comfort, which produc'd... more...

A ROMAN LAWYER IN JERUSALEM Marcus, abiding in Jerusalem,Greeting to Caius, his best friend in Rome! Salve! these presents will he borne to youBy Lucius, who is wearied with this place,Sated with travel, looks upon the EastAs simply hateful—blazing, barren, bleak,And longs again to find himself in Rome,After the tumult of its streets, its trainsOf slaves and clients, and its villas coolWith marble... more...

TAM I' THE KIRK O Jean, my Jean, when the bell ca's the congregationOwre valley an' hill wi' the ding frae its iron mou',When a'body's thochts is set on his ain salvation,  Mine's set on you. There's a reid rose lies on the Buik o' the Word 'afore yeThat was growin' braw on its bush at the keek o' day,But the lad that pu'd yon... more...

OUR LITTLE BROWN HOUSE.  There's a little brown house just under the hill;It's not by the river, nor yet by a rill;It's not on the green-sward where the gay and proud meet,But it stands on the corner of Bandbarrack's street.This time-honored veteran, in armor complete,Has stood many winters the storm and the sleet—The early spring rains and the long summer heat,The wear and the... more...

HERE BEGIN POEMS BY THE WAY.WRITTEN BY WILLIAM MORRIS.AND FIRST IS THE POEM CALLEDFROM THE UPLAND TO THE SEA. Shall we wake one morn of spring,Glad at heart of everything,Yet pensive with the thought of eve?Then the white house shall we leave,Pass the wind-flowers and the bays,Through the garth, and go our ways,Wandering down among the meadsTill our very joyance needsRest at last; till we shall comeTo... more...

THE LORD OF MISRULE “On May days the wild heads of the parish would choose a Lord of Misrule, whom they would follow even into the church, though the minister were at prayer or preaching, dancing and swinging their may-boughs about like devils incarnate.”—Old Puritan Writer. A LL on a fresh May morning, I took my love to church, To see if Parson Primrose were safely on his perch. He scarce had... more...