Poetry Books

MY "PROMENADE SOLITAIRE" Up and down in my garden fair,Under the trellis where grapes will bloom,With the breath of violets in the air,As pallid Winter for Spring makes room,I walk and ponder, free from care,In my beautiful Promenade Solitaire. Back and forth in the checkered shadeTraced by the lattice that holds the vine,With the glory of snow-capped crests displayedOn the sapphire sky in a... more...

THE SINGING MAN I He sang above the vineyards of the world.  And after him the vines with woven handsClambered and clung, and everywhere unfurled  Triumphing green above the barren lands;Till high as gardens grow, he climbed, he stood,  Sun-crowned with life and strength, and singing toil,And looked upon his work; and it was good:        The corn, the wine, the oil. He sang above the... more...

FLYING KITESA blustering windy day's just rightFor boys who want to fly a kite;And it affords the greatest joyTo make and use the pretty toy.But Aged Duffers, do not tryA large-sized paper kite to fly;You could not manage tail or string,And ten to one you'd spoil the thing.A morning full of happiness any boy may findBy sailing boats upon the lake, if he is so inclined;The wind it drives them... more...

SMALL MEANS AND GREAT ENDS; OR, THE WIDOW'S POT OF OIL. BY JULIA A. FLETCHER. "Oh! how I do wish I was rich!" said Eliza Melvyn, dropping her work in her lap, and looking up discontentedly to her mother; "why should not I be rich as well as Clara Payson? There she passes in her father's carriage, with her fine clothes, and haughty ways; while I sit here—sew—sewing—all day... more...

CANTO I His glory, by whose might all things are mov'd,Pierces the universe, and in one partSheds more resplendence, elsewhere less.  In heav'n,That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,Witness of things, which to relate againSurpasseth power of him who comes from thence;For that, so near approaching its desireOur intellect is to such depth absorb'd,That memory cannot follow.... more...

CLAIR DE LUNE. Your soul is as a moonlit landscape fair,Peopled with maskers delicate and dim,That play on lutes and dance and have an airOf being sad in their fantastic trim. The while they celebrate in minor strainTriumphant love, effective enterprise,They have an air of knowing all is vain,—And through the quiet moonlight their songs rise, The melancholy moonlight, sweet and lone,That makes to... more...

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock S'io credesse che mia risposta fosseA persona che mai tornasse al mondo,Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondoNon torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero,Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo. Let us go then, you and I,When the evening is spread out against the skyLike a patient etherized upon a table;Let us go, through... more...

VENUS AND ADONIS EVEN as the sun with purple-colour'd faceHad ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,Rose-cheek'd Adonis tried him to the chase;Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn; 4Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,And like a bold-fac'd suitor 'gins to woo him. 'Thrice fairer than myself,' thus she began,'The field's chief... more...

I    [Bass drum beaten loudly.]  Booth led boldly with his big bass drum—  (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)  The Saints smiled gravely and they said: "He's come."  (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)  Walking lepers followed, rank on rank,  Lurching bravoes from the ditches dank,  Drabs from the alleyways and drug fiends pale—  Minds still... more...

THE NURSERY ALPHABET.A for the Alphabet, A, B, C;B for the Book that was given to me.C for the Corn that stands in the stack;D for the Donkey with cross on his back.E for the Engine that's lighted with coke;F for the Funnel that puffs out the smoke. The Nursery Alphabet. E F G H.G for the Goose that swims on the pond;H for the Hen, of her chickens so fond.I for the Icicle, frosty and cold;J for... more...