Poetry Books

SAMUEL DANIEL Daniel's sonnet series has been by many regarded as the prototype of Shakespeare's. It is true that several of Daniel's themes are repeated in the cycle composed by the greater poet. The ideas of immortality in verse, the transitoriness of beauty, the assurances of truth, the humility and the woes of the lover, the pain of separation and the comfort of night thoughts, shape... more...

MAX AND MAURICE. PREFACE.Ah, how oft we read or hear ofBoys we almost stand in fear of!For example, take these storiesOf two youths, named Max and Maurice,Who, instead of early turningTheir young minds to useful learning,Often leered with horrid featuresAt their lessons and their teachers.Look now at the empty head: heIs for mischief always ready.Teasing creatures, climbing fences,Stealing apples,... more...

TO read the old Nursery Rhymes brings back queer lost memories of a man's own childhood. One seems to see the loose floppy picture-books of long ago, with their boldly coloured pictures. The books were tattered and worn, and my first library consisted of a wooden box full of these volumes. And I can remember being imprisoned for some crime in the closet where the box was, and how my gaolers found... more...

MY MOTHER'S KISS.   My mother's kiss, my mother's kiss,     I feel its impress now;  As in the bright and happy days     She pressed it on my brow.   You say it is a fancied thing     Within my memory fraught;  To me it has a sacred place—     The treasure house of thought.   Again, I feel her fingers glide     Amid my clustering hair;  I see the... more...

THE MAN IN THE MOON.THE Man in the MoonCame tumbling down,And asked his way to Norwich;They told him south,And he burnt his mouthWith eating cold pease-porridge.TO market, to market, to buy a fat Pig;Home again, home again, dancing a jig. To market, to market, to buy a fat Hog;Home again, home again, jiggety-jog. THERE WAS A MAN.There was a man, and he had nought,And robbers came to rob him; He crept... more...

The Spirit of William Shakespeare,sore vexed of them who say that in hisSonnets he writ not from the truth ofhis heart but from the toyings of hisbrain, and that he devised but a feignedobject to fit a feigned affection, hereinmaketh answer, renewing as best ashadow may that rhyme wherein hewas more excellent in theliving body I THE wise world saith I not unlock’d my heartWhen I of thee and thy dear... more...

ANNIE'S GARDEN.   In little Annie's garden    Grew all sorts of posies;  There were pinks, and mignonette,    And tulips, and roses.   Sweet peas, and morning glories,    A bed of violets blue,  And marigolds, and asters,    In Annie's garden grew.   There the bees went for honey,    And the humming-birds too;  And there the pretty butterflies    And... more...

"Pray, what would you like?" said a Toyman, one day,Addressing a group of young folks,"I have toys in abundance, and very cheap, too,Though not quite so cheap as my jokes."Here's a famous managerie, full of wild beasts;See! this lion with wide open jaws,Enough to affright one, and yet I've no doubt,You might venture to play with his claws."Here's a tiger as tame as a... more...

RELIGION AND POETRY BY WASHINGTON GLADDEN. The time is not long past when the copulative in that title might have suggested to some minds an antithesis,—as acid and alkali, or heat and cold. That religion could have affiliation with anything so worldly as poetry would have seemed to some pious people a questionable proposition. There were the Psalms, in the Old Testament, to be sure; and the minister... more...

THERE was once a little Brownie, who lived—where do you think he lived? in a coal-cellar.Now a coal-cellar may seem a most curious place to choose to live in; but then a Brownie is a curious creature—a fairy, and yet not one of that sort of fairies who fly about on gossamer wings, and dance in the moonlight, and so on. He never dances; and as to wings, what use would they be to him in a coal-cellar?... more...