Poetry Books

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PILATE'S WIFE'S DREAM. I've quench'd my lamp, I struck it in that startWhich every limb convulsed, I heard it fall—The crash blent with my sleep, I saw departIts light, even as I woke, on yonder wall;Over against my bed, there shone a gleamStrange, faint, and mingling also with my dream. It sank, and I am wrapt in utter gloom;How far is night advanced, and when will... more...

  That model Miss, Jemima Jane  Was very good, and very plain;  Her parents noticed with delight  How neat she was, and how polite.  Sometimes her young companions came  And begged she'd join them in a game.  But it was never any use;  She'd make some civil, quiet excuse,  And, "Dear Mama," she'd whisp'ring say,  "I love plain sewing more than... more...

THE TAILOR AND THE CROWA carrion crow sat on an oak,Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do, Watching a tailor shape his cloak; Sing heigh ho, the carrion crow, Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do. Wife, bring me my old bent bow,Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do. That I may shoot yon carrion crow; Sing heigh ho, the carrion crow, Fol de riddle, lol de riddle, hi ding do. The tailor he... more...

CANTO XXIII IN silence and in solitude we went,One first, the other following his steps,As minor friars journeying on their road. The present fray had turn'd my thoughts to museUpon old Aesop's fable, where he toldWhat fate unto the mouse and frog befell.For language hath not sounds more like in sense,Than are these chances, if the originAnd end of each be heedfully compar'd.And as one... more...

Where Bobby lives there is a hill—A hill so steep and high,'Twould fill the bill for Jack and JillTheir famous act to try Once Bobby's Go-cart broke awayAnd down this hill it kited.The careless Nurse screamed in dismayBut Bobby was delighted He clapped his hands, in manner rude,And laughed in high elation—While, close behind, the Nurse pursuedIn hopeless consternation An Officer slid off... more...

Walter Scott was born in Edinburgh, August 15, 1771, of an ancient Scotch clan numbering in its time many a hard rider and good fighter, and more than one of these petty chieftains, half-shepherd and half-robber, who made good the winter inroads into their stock of beeves by spring forays and cattle drives across the English Border. Scott's great-grandfather was the famous "Beardie" of... more...

INTRODUCTION When a poem is read aloud it is easy to realize that poetry is closely related to music. Like music it awakens vague, mysterious feelings which cannot be expressed in ordinary speech; and the person who fails to catch the subtle melody of a poem gets but little from it even though he understands perfectly the meaning of the words. To illustrate this, put into commonplace prose a passage of... 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...

John Gilpin was a citizenOf credit and renown,A train-band captain eke was heOf famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,Though wedded we have beenThese twice ten tedious years, yet weNo holiday have seen. To-morrow is our wedding-day,And we will then repairUnto the Bell at Edmonton,All in a chaise and pair. My sister and my sister's child,Myself and children three,Will fill... more...

by: Various
The Cat-tail Arrow BY CLARA DOTY BATES ittle Sammie made a bow, Well indeed he loved to whittle, Shaped it like the half of O— How he could I scarcely know, For his fingers were so little. As he whittled came a sigh: "If I only had an arrow; Something light enough to fly To the tree-tops or the sky! Then I'd have such fun tomorrow." Then he thought of all the slim Things that grow—the... more...