Poetry Books

SeeMeBe(kyndeAgayneMy payneReteyne(in myndeMy swete bloodeOn the roodeDyde the good(my broderMy face ryght redMyn armes spredMy woundes bled(thynke none oderBeholde thou my sydeWounded so ryght wydeBledynge sore that tyde(all for thyn owne sakeThus for the I smertedWhy arte þharde hertedBe by me conuerted(& thy swerynge aslakeTere me nowe no moreMy woundes are soreLeue swerynge therfore(and come to... more...

It is exceedingly difficult to settle the exact place of, as well as to compute the varied influences wielded by, a great original genius. Every such mind borrows so much from his age and from the past, as well as communicates so much from his own native stores, that it is difficult to determine whether he be more the creature or the creator of his period. But, ere determining the influence exerted by... more...

INTRODUCTION In the preface to each of his volumes of pastorals (Pastorals. After the simple Manner of Theocritus, 1717; Pastorals. viz. The Bashful Swain: and Beauty and Simplicity, 1717) Thomas Purney rushed into critical discussions with the breathlessness of one impatient to reveal his opinions, and, after touching on a variety of significant topics, cut himself short with the promise of a future... more...

JIM was a boy who was fond of clowns,And thought they were excellent fun;He talked so much of them and their ways,That one night he dreamed he was one. He dreamed he was feeding five fat geeseOn boiled slate-pencils and rice:He said it was wholesome food for geese,But they said, “More wholesome than nice.” HE dreamed that he set two geese to dance,While he took a fiddle and played.He said, “You... more...

THE sun withdrew his last pale ray,And clos’d the short and chearless day;Loud blew the wind, and rain and sleetAgainst the cottage casement beat.The busy housewife trimm’d her fire,And drew the oaken settle nigher,[p6]And welcom’d home her own good manTo his clean hearth, his pipe, and can;For Homespun and his bustling wifeWere honest folks in humble life,Who liv’d contented with their lot,And... 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...

Laugh and Play.       Laughand play all the day:Don't you think with meWhen I say that's the wayIf you'd happy be?Maid and lad, if we hadNever time for song,Always sad, never glad,Days would seem so long!Tear and sigh make the skyDark and sad and grey;Never cry—only tryJust to laugh and play.Faces bright make sunlightAll the merry day;Frowns they fright out of sight—So we'll... more...

TO VALERIA.Broideriesand ancient stuffs that some queenWore; nor gems that warriors’ hilts encrusted;Nor fresh from heroes’ brows the laurels green;Nor bright sheaves by bards of eld entrustedTo earth’s great granaries—I bring not these.Only thin, scattered blades from harvests gleanedErewhile I plucked, may happen thee to please.So poor indeed, those others had demeanedThemselves to cull; or... more...

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...

THE QUALITY OF THE WORKS OF EDWARD DOYLE The quality of Edward Doyle's work was appraised by Ella Wheeler Wilcox in the following article by Mrs. Wilcox which appeared in the New York Evening Journal and the San Francisco Examiner, in 1905: Shut your eyes and bind them with a black cloth and try for one hour to see how cheerful you can be. Then imagine yourself deprived for life of the light of... more...