Poetry Books

GREEN FIELDS AND RUNNING BROOKS   Ho! green fields and running brooks!  Knotted strings and fishing-hooks  Of the truant, stealing down  Weedy backways of the town.   Where the sunshine overlooks,  By green fields and running brooks,  All intruding guests of chance  With a golden tolerance,   Cooing doves, or pensive pair  Of picnickers, straying there—  By green fields and... more...

XXXIV O, take to your fancy a sculptor whose fresh marble offspringappearsBefore him, shiningly perfect, the laurel-crown'd issue of years:Is heaven offended? for lightning behold from its bosom escape,And those are mocking fragments that made the harmonious shape!He cannot love the ruins, till, feeling that ruins aloneAre left, he loves them threefold. So passed the old grandfather'smoan.... 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...

A LITTLE MOUSE THAT BUILTITSELF A HOUSE IN ACHRISTMAS CAKE. A PRETTY story I will tell, Of Nib, a little Mouse, Who took delight, when none where near, To skip about the house. Her little nose could sniff and smell Where all good things were kept, And in the pantry well she knew That mistress Pussy slept. But, notwithstanding, in she crept, And on the shelf she found A Christmas cake, the top of which... more...

SLEIGHING SONG.Hurrah! Hurrah! for the jolly snow!Over it we lightly go:Dear sister is so glad, you see,To have a nice drive in the sleigh with me,To have a nice drive in the sleigh with me—Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!Hurrah! Hurrah for the ice and cold!Both very young and gay and bold,We fear no snow, we fear no ice,There's naught in the world that is half so nice,There's naught in the world... more...

POEMS OF THE THIRD PERIOD. THE MEETING. I see her still—by her fair train surrounded,The fairest of them all, she took her place;Afar I stood, by her bright charms confounded,For, oh! they dazzled with their heavenly grace.With awe my soul was filled—with bliss unbounded,While gazing on her softly radiant face;But soon, as if up-borne on wings of fire,My fingers 'gan to sweep the sounding... more...

THE GOD AND THE OPALTO THÉOPHILE GAUTIER Gray caught he from the cloud, and green from earth,And from a human breast the fire he drew,And life and death were blended in one dew.A sunbeam golden with the morning's mirth,A wan, salt phantom from the sea, a girthOf silver from the moon, shot colour throughThe soul invisible, until it grewTo fulness, and the Opal Song had birth. And then the god... more...

INTRODUCTION The pieces reproduced in this little volume are now beginning to bid for notice from their third century of readers. At the time they were written, although Johnson had already done enough miscellaneous literary work to fill several substantial volumes, his name, far from identifying an "Age", was virtually unknown to the general public. The Vanity of Human Wishes was the first of... 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...

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...