Poetry Books

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INTRODUCTION The father of Frederick Locker Lampson (or Frederick Locker, according to the name by which he is generally known) was Edward Hawke Locker, at one time Commissioner of Greenwich Hospital.  He is described in the “Dictionary of National Biography” as “a man of varied talents and accomplishments, Fellow of the Royal Society, an excellent artist in water-colour, a charming... more...

I. Thou tak'st no heed of me,I am as naught to thee;         Cruel Beloved, arise!Lovely and languid thou,Sleep still upon thy brow,         Dreams in thine eyes.From out thy garment flowsFragrance of many a rose—         Airs of delightCaught in the moonlit hoursLying among the flowers         Through the long night.Look on my face how pale!Will naught my love... more...

LITTLE BO-PEEP. Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep,And can’t tell where to find them;Leave them alone, and they’ll come home,And bring their tails behind them. Little Bo-Peep fell fast asleep,And dreamt she heard them bleating;But when she awoke, she found it a joke,For they were still a-fleeting. Then up she took her little crook,Determined for to find them;She found them indeed, but it made her... more...

INTRODUCTION.   The golden age—when men were brothers all,  The golden rule their law and God their king;  When no fierce beasts did through the forests roam,  Nor poisonous reptiles crawl upon the ground;  When trees bore only wholesome, luscious fruits,  And thornless roses breathed their sweet perfumes;  When sickness, sin and sorrow were unknown,  And tears but spoke of joy too... more...

BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS AND OTHER VERSES 1889-1891TO WOLCOTT BALESTIER Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled —Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled —Live such as fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made our world. They are purged of pride because they died, they know the worth of their bays,They sit at wine with the Maidens Nine and the Gods of... more...

Drake's Drum Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand miles away,  (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?)Slung atween the round shot in Nombre Dios Bay,  An' dreamin' arl the time O' Plymouth Hoe.Yarnder lumes the Island, yarnder lie the ships,  Wi' sailor lads a-dancing' heel-an'-toe,An' the shore-lights flashin', an' the... more...

Rhagymadrodd. Ganwyd John Blackwell (Alun) mewn bwthyn ger y Wyddgrug yn 1797.  Un o Langwm oedd ei fam—gwraig ddarbodus a meddylgar; a dilynai ei mab hi i’r seiat a’r Ysgol Sul, gan hynodi ei hun fel dysgwr adnodau ac adroddwr emynau.  Mwnwr call, dwys, distaw, oedd ei dad, a pheth gwaed Seisnig ynddo; cydymdeimlai yntau â’i fachgen. Yn unarddeg oed, heb addysg ysgol ond yn awyddus am... more...

'T is like stirring living embers when, at eighty, one remembersAll the achings and the quakings of "the times that tried men's souls;"When I talk of Whig and Tory, when I tell the Rebel story,To you the words are ashes, but to me they're burning coals. I had heard the muskets' rattle of the April running battle;Lord Percy's hunted soldiers, I can see their red coats... more...

DEDICATION TO MY MOTHER Love that holds life and death in fee,Deep as the clear unsounded seaAnd sweet as life or death can be,Lays here my hope, my heart, and meBefore you, silent, in a song.Since the old wild tale, made new, found grace,When half sung through, before your face,It needs must live a springtide space,While April suns grow strong. March 24, 1896. In hawthorn-time the heart grows... more...