Poetry Books

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...

THALASSIUSUpon the flowery forefront of the year,One wandering by the grey-green April seaFound on a reach of shingle and shallower sandInlaid with starrier glimmering jewelleryLeft for the sun's love and the light wind's cheerAlong the foam-flowered strandBreeze-brightened, something nearer sea than landThough the last shoreward blossom-fringe was near,A babe asleep with flower-soft face... 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...

Dear Mr. Smithers, By every right I ought to choose you to edit and bring out Sir Richard Burton's translation of Catullus, because you collaborated with him on this work by a correspondence of many months before he died. If I have hesitated so long as to its production, it was because his notes, which are mostly like pencilled cobwebs, strewn all over his Latin edition, were headed, "NEVER... more...

A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS.Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the houseNot a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;The children were nestled all snug in their beds,While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,Had just settled our brains for a... more...

PREFACE. It is unfortunately true that the terms education and culture are not synonymous. Too often we find that the children in our public schools, while possessed of the one, are signally lacking in the other. This is a state of things that cannot be remedied by teaching mere facts. The Greeks, many years ago, found the true method of imparting the latter grace and we shall probably not be able to... more...

CANTO I IN the midway of this our mortal life,I found me in a gloomy wood, astrayGone from the path direct: and e'en to tellIt were no easy task, how savage wildThat forest, how robust and rough its growth,Which to remember only, my dismayRenews, in bitterness not far from death.Yet to discourse of what there good befell,All else will I relate discover'd there.How first I enter'd it I... more...

The Children of the Night For those that never know the light,The darkness is a sullen thing;And they, the Children of the Night,Seem lost in Fortune's winnowing. But some are strong and some are weak, —And there's the story. House and homeAre shut from countless hearts that seekWorld-refuge that will never come. And if there be no other life,And if there be no other chanceTo weigh their... more...

One hesitates to lift the veil and throw the light upon a life so hidden and a personality so withdrawn as that of Emma Lazarus; but while her memory is fresh, and the echo of her songs still lingers in these pages, we feel it a duty to call up her presence once more, and to note the traits that made it remarkable and worthy to shine out clearly before the world. Of dramatic episode or climax in her... more...

1.  HAWTHORN AND LAVENDER ENVOY My songs were once of the sunrise:   They shouted it over the bar; First-footing the dawns, they flourished,   And flamed with the morning star. My songs are now of the sunset:   Their brows are touched with light, But their feet are lost in the shadows    And wet with the dews of night. Yet for the joy in their making    Take them, O fond and true, And for... more...