American Books

"Come Jane," said grandmamma one day, "'Tis time you learned to sew; At your age I could make a frock, And you should also know." But Jane cared little for such things; She liked to make a noise; She used to run about all day, And shout, and play with boys. So now she only tossed her head And ran with eager feet, And soon was racing up and down, And playing in the street. Once Jane... more...

ARTEMIS TO ACTAEON   THOU couldst not look on me and live: so runs  The mortal legend—thou that couldst not live  Nor look on me (so the divine decree)!  That saw'st me in the cloud, the wave, the bough,  The clod commoved with April, and the shapes  Lurking 'twixt lid and eye-ball in the dark.  Mocked I thee not in every guise of life,  Hid in girls' eyes, a naiad in... more...

BACK FROM TOWN Old friends allus is the best,Halest-like and heartiest:Knowed us first, and don't allowWe're so blame much better now!They was standin' at the barsWhen we grabbed "the kivvered kyars"And lit out fer town, to makeMoney—and that old mistake! We thought then the world we wentInto beat "The Settlement,"And the friends 'at we'd make thereWould beat... more...

EDWARD L. BERNAYSHe was a burly Dutch tenor,And I patiently trailed him in his waking and sleeping hoursThat I might not lose a story,—But his life was commonplace and unimaginative—Air raids and abdications kept his activities,(A game of bridge yesterday, a ride to Tarrytown),Out of the papers.I watchfully waited,Yearning a coup that would place him on theMusical map.A coup, such as kissing a... more...

GEORGE D. PRENTICE.'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence nowIs brooding, like a gentle spirit o'erThe still and pulseless world. Hark! on the windsThe bell's deep tones are swelling; 'tis the knellOf the departed year. No funeral trainIs sweeping past; yet, on the stream and wood,With melancholy light, the moonbeams restLike a pale, spotless shroud; the air is stirred,As by a... more...

When Day Is Done When day is done and the night slips down,And I've turned my back on the busy town,And come once more to the welcome gateWhere the roses nod and the children wait,I tell myself as I see them smileThat life is good and its tasks worth while. When day is done and I've come once moreTo my quiet street and the friendly door,Where the Mother reigns and the children playAnd the... more...

e have no means of knowing the history of Master "Ebenezer Cook, Gentleman," who, one hundred and forty-six years ago, produced the Sot-Weed Factor's Voyage to Maryland. He wrote, printed, published, and sold it in London for sixpence sterling, and then disappeared forever. We do not know certainly that Mr. Cook himself was the actual adventurer who suffered the ills described by him... more...

Bread Poems   Lullaby  Embarkation of Cythera  Christian Luxuries  Narrow Flowers  Eyes  After Youth  The Shadow that Walks Alone  Bible Truth  The Maternal Breast  Air for G String  Destiny The Red Cross   Hectic I-II  Isolation Ward  The Red Cross  Hospital Night Domestic Canticle   Spring Song  Home Again  To a Sick Child  Love Song  Quarrel  My Child  The... more...

A FOREWORD When the first Miscellany of American Poetry appeared in 1920, innumerable were the questions asked by both readers and reviewers of publishers and contributors alike. The modest note on the jacket appeared to satisfy no one. The volume purported to have no editor, yet a collection without an editor was pronounced preposterous. It was obviously not the organ of a school, yet it did not seem... more...

NO ABOLITION OF SLAVERY:OR,THE UNIVERSAL EMPIRE OF LOVE. ADDRESSED TO MISS ——.——Most pleasing of thy sex,Born to delight and never vex;Whose kindness gently can controulMy wayward turbulence of soul.Pry’thee, my dearest, dost thou read,The MorningPrints, and ever heedMinutes, which tell how time’s mispent,In either House of Parliament?See, with the front of Jove!But not like Jove with... more...